RHYTHM AT THE REGENT: No matter how many crazed props and stunts Josh Hilberman and company dreamed up, their feet kept rattling away.

But the curious thing is, on his recordings Dylan doesn’t really sing about himself; he’s singing about everyone. Maybe all great folksingers do that. Imported into the show, Dylanology makes us ask more of the characters and leaves us less satisfied with the tinsel.

Tharp conceived, directed, and choreographed the show like a ballet. She has a dancer’s confidence in the unspoken. When you see a solo variation in The Sleeping Beauty, you don’t need to know what the fairy had for breakfast. But Times sets out to tell a story, offer us a lesson, and also revisit some iconic days of rebellion. Tharp hasn’t gained control of the clash between that dramaturgy and her instinct for abstraction.

A circus of another kind, more modest and more entertaining, was on view last weekend at the Regent Theatre in Arlington. Rhythm at the Regent, produced by Josh Hilberman and Thelma Goldberg’s Dance Inn, was an old-fashioned variety show featuring tap dancing and tap-inflected variety acts.

One of the things I love about tap shows is that you get to hear great old jazz and pop songs, like “Satin Doll” and “I Remember April.” Hilberman traded his terrific tap riffs with the stalwart and generous trio, pianist Paul Arslanian, bassist Joe Fonda, and drummer Ron Savage. Goldberg’s Legacy Dancers, teenagers from Dance Inn in Lexington, did ensemble numbers choreographed for them by Hilberman, Kelly Kaleta, and Brenda Bufalino. The zany Bob Thomas was on hand to conduct the audience in an obstreperous version of “Three Blind Mice.’ The duo Tap and Tray (one looks like an Austrian diplomat and the other like a jockey) performed a precision tap routine while spinning large metal trays on their index fingers.

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And then there was Nate Cooper, a roller skater who, by stumbles and slips and near-fatalities, made his way into the audience. With a willing partner he lurched back up onto the stage and attempted to serve tea while tapping to “Tea for Two.” (Charlie Chaplin’s 1916 silent film The Rink must have been Cooper’s prototype.)

At some point later on, when things got really warmed up, there was a stunning moment when Tap and Tray and Hilberman and Goldberg were dancing on four large drumheads — she was propelling several hula hoops around, and the three guys were spinning trays. Cooper entered on a pogo stick, dressed in a white negligee, and proceeded to spin a plate on his head while jouncing on the pogo stick and juggling two large carving knives.

No matter how many crazed props and stunts these performers dream up, their feet keep rattling away. I cherish the memory of Josh Hilberman simultaneously dancing and playing “Sweet Georgia Brown” on the ukulele while commenting on his own performance. And then, for an encore, dancing and playing “When the Saints Go Marching In,” accompanying himself on the kazoo.

There is a message in all this foolishness too — something about learning to do stuff that’s hard and frivolous, with no worthwhile purpose other than having fun.