All That Jazz

Bob Fosse's autobiographical look at the hectic life of a Broadway director/choreographer rehearsing a new show in New York City while concurrently editing his latest movie. Roy Scheider fabulously stands in for Fosse; as Joe Gideon, pill-popping, womanizing, self-destructive genius on the verge of collapse, it is Scheider's shining moment as an actor. Fosse paints himself as suspicious, paranoid, driven, indifferent, exhausted and horny. It's more than most of us want to know about the man, who seems intent on showing us what a creep he is...but a talented creep! The film doesn't particularly look good (it's a gray movie), though it has amazing musical flourishes and the self-styled bombast is actually rather amusing once you get the idea. Jessica Lange is beautiful in an early role as the Angel of Death (imagine Fosse explaining that role to her!), and Scheider's performance is really something to see (only occasionally does the camera catch him not knowing what to do). Fosse tries hard not to be pretentious, he keeps things playful and perky, and his ironic ending is bitterly funny. The film is alive and ticking--but that's not Fosse's heart, it's a time bomb. *** from ****

I just saw the movie for the first time since its initial release and was struck by how well it holds up. The casting alone is quite remarkable, the set design is often striking, and the entire roman-a-clef peek inside the life of Bob Fosse remains fascinating.

There are at least two more pieces of "insider" ironic casting that appears to have not been mentioned. One was the casting of Cliff Gorman as the stand-up comedian in the "Lenny"-type movie-within-the-movie (here called "Stand-up"). Gorman originated the part of Lenny Bruce in the original Broadway version of "Lenny," but lost the movie role to Dustin Hoffman.

The other is the casting of Ann Reinking as Gideon's lover. Ann Reinking was Fosse's lover in real life.

Artistic people probably do not understand how creatively-lacking people function in their day to day lives. Uncreative people judge artists are pretentious, ridiculous, and unrealistic because of their own lack in understanding of an artistic mind. Ignorance no longer need be a problem, not once you see All That Jazz. I've never seen an artist's thinking, inspiration, and life depicted better in a more flashy, colorful, and wild film.The protagonist, Joe Gideon is for the first two thirds of the film, practically never captured on screen without a cigarette on his lips. Watching All That Jazz is like stealing the cigarette from his mouth and inhaling his artistic expression.

The most obvious aspect of All That Jazz that is successful is the manner in which its technically made. Bob Fosse is the director here and each scene is directed with such precision, you can feel the real-life, artistic pain melt off the screen. In a film that centers itself around dancing, the choreography is feisty, swift, and collectible complex and inventive. The sets and costumes are dazzling and prove the film cares about it's look just as much it does entertaining us and even more so than both of those, it makes a priority of saying something about artists. The film editing is used as a poem of madness and completely works for All That Jazz.

The grounding strength of All That Jazz is Roy Scheider being front and center breathing life and artistic "smoke" into the film. Never a moment where he takes things too far, everything is held back like a man who has bit off more than he could chew would hold things back. Scheider is perfectly astute and the film wouldn't be the same without his understanding of the character and story. All That Jazz is centered around a flawed man with a drug addiction, uncontrollable sexual desires, stress levels that go through the roof, and personal relationships that have more bumps than they are smooth. Yet, we understand this man's life and work because of Scheider.

All That Jazz is bright, flashy, and seeking attention to this business and lifestyle. Artistic people are misunderstood by people as some sort of hippie that tries to sway away from "the norm" any chance they get. No, they understand themselves and feel they have something to share with the world. They see the world differently than "normal" people do. They have a firmer grasp on what things mean to them. It almost feels like a style of film Fellini would be directing. All That Jazz is in tune with the the work, the stress, and the real-life hardships that come as a package deal in the entertainment industry. The film is like shining bright lights on big distress.

Through this wild, raunchy film, Fosse makes a commentary on an artist's experience understandable to the common man in a very entertaining way. All That Jazz reinvents the word style, flashing new visuals, songs, and choreography at us every minute. Filled with art, dance, and personal expression, All That Jazz will suffocate you with its fantastically told metaphor of an artist's life.

One of the most gleefully indulgent, self-loathing films ever made- yet watchable as a train wreck, thanks to its bravery, wit and overall excellence.

Scheider is unexpectedly effective as the director's mirror image, a talented louse who deserves what he gets. I can only imagine the smirk that must have been on Fosse's face throughout this production. He doesn't ask for forgiveness, he doesn't try to justify Gideon's behavior, and he certainly didn't encourage Scheider to be sympathetic. "You're right, I'm a bastard," he seems to be saying.

While catchy and professional, the musical numbers (particularly the art direction and costumes) range from tasteless to bombastic- as they were intended, I think. The choreography is precise, the editing masterful, and the performances in sharp focus. These elements, plus the acerbically mournful script, make for a fascinating deconstruction of self to an extent rarely, if ever, seen in the movies.

Not every artist should think himself so interesting, but thankfully, both Fosse's professional and personal life merited such honest examination. I can't think of any of our more iconic filmmakers today who have been turned the camera back on themselves in such unflinching fashion.

Note: Among the direct parallels to Fosse's actual career are "The Stand-Up" to "Lenny", and Lithgow's snooty Lucas Sergeant to theatre's estimable Harold Prince.

To think that Fosse synthesized musical theater, artistic obsession, relationships, fatherhood, and satire all within the framework of a deconstructionist film musical and made it all about himself to boot (including predicting the manner of his own death) without being the least bit self-congratulatory is amazing. The film is edited beautifully; choreographed flawlessly; lit with stark colors that almost fade to black and white at times; and acted with heart and verve, especially by Roy Scheider. The film has one of the most effective uses of the zoom lens (despised by most filmmakers precisely for their inability to figure out when to use it) in film history. The shot pulls back from a lone choreographer on the stage while multitudes of bodies go flying by him, letting us feel his insurmountable task of choosing which of these people will make his show come alive. Some may say the final series of musical numbers runs long but I defy anyone these days to sustain a musical film with the same success. "Moulin Rouge" and "Chicago", excellent films that they are, play their cards fast and furious, hoping to razzle-dazzle us just long enough that we'll stay tuned. "All That Jazz" dares to show you a taste of musicals to come ("Take Off With Us") and yet insists you remember where the form came from (the Busby Berkely-esque "Who's Sorry Now?"). When will they come out with the DVD? We can only hope soon.