I thought a lot about Giselle this past weekend. Not the supermodel, but the character in Disney’s “Enchanted” and the ballet of that name. In each performance that I saw, I was struck by how soloists can be both fascinating and extremely dull at the same time.

Sunday night at the 80th annual Academy Awards, Amy Adams, who played Princess Giselle in “Enchanted,” performed “Happy Working Song” at Kodak Theatre. She sang the nominated song by herself (as she does in the film). On screen, she sings it to pigeons and various rodents in a dirty kitchen; there are tons of visual distractions as one enjoys the lyrical cleverness. But at the Academy Awards, she sang without a set, props or animated help. Her hands still moved as if she were gesturing to invisible animal friends, and she still leaned forward to sing to them.

The other songs that were up for Best Original Song had some sort of backdrop, a chorus or dancing couples to enhance the number. The voting was already over at this point, so the live performances didn’t really matter much, except as a way to showcase the work. And for an animated Disney song especially, the bare performance of “Happy Working Song,” leaving the star up there all alone, seemed a little cold, especially when I’m sure all resources were available for such a high-profile event.

The weight rested entirely on the shoulders and facial expressions of Adams. While “So Close” had a ballroom scene of twirling couples and “Raise it Up” from August Rush had a Harlem chorus, all the meaning “Happy Working Song” was to convey relied on the “Enchanted” actress. While this was a great study of the power of one performer, how she could be so “happy peppy” with no one around her, it made me wish I could watch the movie again to see the song as it should be performed: with lots of other stuff happening around it.

This past weekend I also saw the State Ballet of Georgia perform “Giselle” in Royce Hall. I was struck by the similarities between the two performances. There is, of course, no dialogue in ballet – you have to read the program notes to understand the tragic story of a country girl who falls in love with a prince disguised as an average country boy. The performance had background scenery and a few props, but mostly it was just people – and often not very many of them – on stage. Music came from speakers: There was no orchestra or conductor.

In the second act, the queen of a band of dead girls performed quite a lengthy solo. In a beautiful but not particularly elaborate white dress, she twirled around, stretched and balanced on the tips of her toes. I watched her and thought about how difficult that all must be but how easy it looks. For a while, it was nice to be able to focus. But at the same time, it wasn’t as gripping when there wasn’t as much to watch.

When the group of dancing dead girls came out to join her, it was a littler easier to watch and I could appreciate the large-scale choreography, knowing that all the other intricate footwork was still going on.

In the later performances on Oscar night, Kristen Chenoweth sang “That’s How You Know” with a Central Park bridge and an enormous dancing troupe.

After seeing Amy Adams, I think I appreciated the show a little more, knowing that every one of those individuals was working as hard as the soloist. In big productions, the power of an individual performer often gets lost. But when you watch an the ensemble, every performer is individually talented.