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April 22, 2002
ALL
THAT JAZZ
The first
time I saw "Chicago" I knew nothing about the storyline,
only that it was choreographed by the great Bob Fosse and
contained the sexy, sizzling "All That Jazz," such
a signature piece that Fosse used it as the title of his autobiography.
Fosse's distinctive choreography was the Broadway dance style
of the 70s. You can recognize it at once: seductive, cool,
stagy, more pose than movement. He created a rapidly changing
series of tableaux, using open hands, hip and shoulder isolations,
long, curved body lines, and bowler hats. "One"
from "A Chorus Line" is perhaps his most memorable
and often-copied staging: classy, simple, elegant.
Why would
I see a play I've seen before? Why would you select the same
meal at a favorite restaurant? Partly it is to savor again
an enjoyable experience. But also to be surprised again. Even
when costumes, sets, and staging are identical, each cast
brings its own personality and nuance to the stage. For example,
I don't even remember the song "Mr. Cellophane"
from the first time I saw "Chicago," (ironic, since
the song laments the fact that people see right through him
without ever noticing him.). But in this production Clive
Rowe brings such energy and pathos to the song that it stands
out above all the rest. Rowe portrays the character of Amos,
Roxie Hart's cuckolded husband, not as a doormat, but as a
warm, lovable, sympathetic guy next door who deserves better.
Rowe received long and spontaneous applause at his final exit
and again at his curtain call.
Similarly,
the London production of "Carousel" a few years
ago presented the usually strait-laced, humorless and judgmental
Mr. Snow as funny, hard-working, loving, and wise, a wonderful
foil to the now moody and abusive Billy. Not a word was changed
in the script; the personalities were transformed simply in
the delivery. And if you get a chance to see London's current
"My Fair Lady," watch for the final gestures just
before the curtain closes--it changes the whole play. So I
love seeing a good play more than once.
But I
admit that I did not care for "Chicago" the first
time around. The choreography was typical Fosse and the dancing
was superb, but I just couldn't get past the storyline. Six
women are on trial for "crimes of passion," having
killed either their husbands or their boyfriends. A gruesome
premise, made more gruesome by the glitzy venue. Maybe I was
just in a literalist mindset that day, or maybe I was influenced
by my theater companion, but I just didn't get it. What were
these women doing in a nightclub, I thought, when they ought
to be in jail? Moreover, Bebe Nieuwerth was starring in the
production I went to see, and I looked forward to the cold
hard edge I knew she would bring to the hot jazzy music. Alas,
Bebe was off that night so an understudy stepped into her
role, a big disappointment. And I was totally put off by the
story line.
I was
in the mood for some great dancing my last night in London,
and I had seen all the other musicals on the board at the
Half-Price ticket booth at Leicester Square, so I decided
to give "Chicago" another try. I'm really glad I
did. This time I was able to see past the surface to the point
of the story. The nightclub, of course, is a mere metaphor,
a statement about the way Americans find entertainment in
crime. The play actually takes place inside a jail, where
the women are awaiting their trials. The jail's matron wears
a business suit and makes deals with the girls the way a hard-nosed
agent would. Attorney Billy Flynn parades around the visiting
area like the headliner in a vaudeville show, his clients
surrounding him like a group of chorus girls, making him look
good. The orchestra is set on stage rather than hidden in
the pit, and the actual orchestra leader plays the role of
the judge, even has a few lines to speak. The orchestra themselves
make up the jury. And the story line makes a point: Defendants
who perform well on the witness stand--who cry on cue, wear
the right clothes, change their stories to elicit sympathy
from the jury, and above all play to the press--get acquitted,
while those who untheatrically assert the truth get hanged.
Publicity and high profile are everything.
Recent
high-profile trials make this 20-year-old revival timely,
and ultimately more successful than its first run in 1975,
where it opened to mixed reviews and a short run. Perhaps
those early audiences were, like me, unprepared for the metaphor.
Remember that 1975 was a time when a president resigned in
disgrace; by the 1990s, the President's disgraceful behavior
was high entertainment. O.J. Simpson's murder trial is an
even better example. Who can soon forget being riveted to
the television for the grandstanding of attorney Johnnie Cochran,
the attention paid to prosecutor Marcia Clark's hairstyles
and wardrobe, the choreographed theatrics of O.J.s show-stopping
attempt to try on the glove and Johnnie Cochran's melodic
reprise, "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit!" Admit
it: you checked in every night to see the highlights of the
O.J. trial, managed to find a television in the middle of
the day when the verdict was broadcast live, and watched the
full-cast finale of newscasters singing their analysis and
conclusions in a cacophony of encores. Yes, it was a great
production. Not unlike "Chicago."
More
recently, former television star Robert Blake has been arrested
for the murder of his wife eleven months ago, a tawdry parking
lot shooting that would have been an open-and-shut case settled
months ago if it weren't for his former celebrity. All the
news shows are talking about it, and we'll probably see nightly
reports and non-stop cameras in the courtroom. It will be
like a circus--or a nightclub, if you prefer.
My verdict:
"Chicago" is one great show.
-- Jo
Ann Skousen
email: jaskousen@mskousen.com
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