Take a
long-running Broadway musical, throw in a director best known
for Disney TV movies, stir in non-singing and dancing movie
stars like Catherine Zeta-Jones, Renee Zellweger and (gasp!)
Richard Gere, gestate for two years and what you’re left with
has the potential to be truly horrifying. What in the name of
heaven has the success of
Moulin Rouge wrought?
Something
wondrous, that’s what. Could it be that the rebirth of the
musical has begun? If it has, I just hope that those coming soon
are half as glorious as director Rob Marshall’s Chicago,
for this just might be the season’s glitziest fun house and
easily rates as one of 2002’s best.
Set in
1920’s Chicago, the windy city is the stage for a cynical story
of murder, mayhem, stardom and distrust. Roxie Hart (Zellweger)
is a girl with ambition stamped on her forehead. She wants to be
a stage star so bad, she’d kill to get there. When her
duplicitous lover Fred Casely (Dominic West, Rock Star) tries to walk out
on her, that’s exactly what she does. Her lunkhead husband Amos
(John C. Reilly, Magnolia) at first attempts to take the
blame, but on discovering the actual carnal nature of Roxie’s
relationship with the deceased he quickly changes his tune and
it is off to the big house for the aspiring starlet.
Inside,
she meets the famed Velma Kelly (Zeta-Jones), herself a resident
of Chicago’s famous murderess row. You see, she didn’t take too
kindly to her sister – and singing and dancing partner – taking
up with her boyfriend. It was only natural for her to kill them
and, besides, a little jail time could end up being good for the
career.
Soon,
Roxie is learning the ropes of what it will take to beat the
wrap, and she just might become a star in the process. Leading
her there is famed attorney Billy Flynn (Gere). His motto? "It’s
all a circus, kid, a three-ring circus. These trials -- the
whole world -- all show business."
Chicago
is a film ripe with heartlessness. These are, almost as a whole,
not very nice people. Roxie is a ruthless and self-absorbed
mess, Velma is as cold-blooded as they come and Billy looks at
the whole mess as a giant game. These are not people you invite
over for dinner or to meet Mom.
So what?
Rarely have I had so much pure, unadulterated pleasure going to
the movies. Marshall and writer Bill Condon (writer/director of
the absolutely remarkable Gods & Monsters) have created a
real gem of a musical. Granted, the edges are a bit sharp, but
who doesn’t want their diamonds to cut through the glass of the
same old-same old?
The
greatest conceit of Chicago is the musical numbers
littering the film. Taking what works well on the Broadway Stage
and trying to craft it to work cinematically is a daunting task,
but Marshall and Condon work through those problems brilliantly.
Roxie is mentally unhinged, this is clear from the very first
moment we meet her, so when the song and dance numbers start
springing forth from her ding-dong brainpan it makes perfect
sense.
The cast
is more than willing to jump head first into this game if id and
seek. Gere is surprisingly nimble, his fancy footwork around a
zinger or a tap dance delightful to behold. Zellweger registers
nearly as strongly, although Roxie really is a tough nut to root
for. She’s a despicable character, but damned if the pixie-eyed
actress doesn’t win you over in the end.
But the
best of the bunch is Zeta-Jones. She claws her way through
Chicago with the ferocity of a feral lion. Whether belting
out the show’s signature tune "All That Jazz" or feigning
coquettish innocence on the witness stand, you just can’t take
your eyes off the raven-haired beauty. If ever a performance sat
up and screamed, "Oscar!" this has to be it.
Whether it
is Queen Latifah (superb as prison warden Matron Mama) belting
out the burlesque "When You’re Good to Mama" or Reilly’s pathos
laden lament "Mr. Cellophane" (not for nothing is he the film’s
sole sympathetic voice) to the gaudy and mesmerizing "Cell Block
Tango," Chicago’s musical staging is pitch perfect.
Marshall whips things up into beauteous frenzy, never losing
sight of his characters and their stories. And while there is
spectacle to spare it never overwhelms the proceedings, allowing
the human voices to come through crystal clear.
What with
the success of Hedwig & the Angry
Inch, Moulin Rouge
and now Chicago, it is safe to say we might be seeing the
best movie musical creations since their heyday during
Hollywood’s Golden Age. If so, I just hope that they keep
getting made with such style and unique precision. In the end,
box office receipts will decide the fate of this musical
renaissance. If that take was based solely on the merits of the
film, than this kid looks like a million bucks multiplied by a
hundred. Have to adjust for inflation, don’t you know.
