Chicago

Fictional characters, as a whole, get away with more than is permissible in reality. They do things we would never condone in our peers, yet still manage to elicit our sympathy. Maybe it's a form of catharsis--instead of inflicting violence on other people, we watch someone onscreen do so and cheer them on. Such is the case with "Chicago"--the film features a large rogue's gallery of criminals, con men, and crooks, yet most of these are surprisingly likeable. And yet, the urge to root for the bad guys is somewhat unsettling, for "Chicago" is a story about people beating the rap by manipulating the public, illiciting their sympathy and playing on their deep-seated need for the bizarre and bloody.

Told one way, the story of "Chicago" sounds like a showbusiness drama: a young girl dreams of stardom. She is initailly naive but learns quickly, rising into the blaze of limelight while an older, more experienced rival resents the new face that's stealing the show. The twist is that the art is murder, and the stage is comprised of the papers, the radio, the courthouse, and the all-devouring public eye. The veteran is Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a nightclub singer who did in her husband and sister after finding them in what is usually called "a compromising position." The newcomer is Roxie Hart (Renee Zelweiger), a cutie-pie who shot her lover after finding out he was using her, and who expects her husband Amos (John C. Reilly, excellent as the quintessentail doormat) to stand by her afterwards. Both women are represented by Billy Flynn (Richard Gere), who brags he can beat any rap for the right price and is probably what Shakespeare had in mind when he made that crack about killing all the lawyers. Flynn's formula is simple: turn the client into a media darling, spin a tragic tale of the good girl ruined by bad choices, and an aquittal is certain.

"Chicago" is a musical, and the film uses a gimmick of establishing two worlds: the real Chicago and a surreal fantasy world in the form of a Jazz-Age theater, where the song and dance takes place. In many musicals this wouldn't work, but here it makes sense. Director Rob Marshall fuses the two worlds together very well, creating images that compliment each other effectively. Some of the concepts look like things you'd see in an editorial cartoon: a press conference becomes a ventroliquist act and puppet show, a trial is depicted as a literal circus. Others offer a reflection of the character's inner self: Amos, in the guise of a baggy-pants comic, bemoans the fact that, like all second banannas, nobody really notices him--even the fantasy audience seems indifferent to his performance (which is, in truth, wonderful).

The ensemble all turns in excellent performances in the acting category, but the singing is more uneven. Zeta-Jones has by far the best voice of the leads, as exemplified by the casually sensual "All That Jazz." Zelweiger is passable, mostly because one gets the impression that her Roxie has more charm and determination than actual talent. Gere only barely manages with the music, and does so mainly on the grounds that Billy Flynn isn't one of the more vocally difficult roles in the music theater cannon. But what he lacks in pipes he makes up for in the character department: his Flynn is a perfectly charismatic scoundrel, one whose talent and danger is in his ability to be so charming. Taye Diggs, who presides over the dream world as the Bandleader, doesn't get to sing, which is a shame because he can--he was in the original cast of "Rent"--but works very well with what he's given.

The mix of glitter and grime in "Chicago" is reminicent of last year's "Moulin Rouge," but those who thought the latter too excessive will probably find this one more appealing. Any fan of music theater, however, will not want to miss this film--it may just be the rebirth of the movie musical we've been hearing about.

"Chicago" represents the latest salvo in a mini-revival of one of Hollywood's most venerated genres: the live-action musical. Since the end of the golden age of big-budget studio song and dance extravaganzas, musicals have appeared only at irregular intervals, and most have met with mixed critical response and equally indifferent gross figures (the most recent example: Alan Parker's box-office also-ran "Evita"). But the holiday-season success of the Coen brothers' music-filled Depression comedy "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" (2000) indicated a new song filling the Hollywood air, a notion confirmed last May with the release of "Moulin Rouge". Baz Luhrmann's phantasmagorical tale of 19th-century Parisian decadence, memorably scored with contemporary pop tunes, may not have set the summer box office on fire, but it was heaped with critical raves, won an enthusiastic cult following, and became the first musical in decades to receive a Best Picture Oscar nomination.

"Chicago", the feature-film debut of veteran stage director / choreographer Rob Marshall, is not as radical or experimental as Luhrmann's picture. Like "Evita", it is a cinematic adaptation of a hit Broadway show, namely Bob Fosse's tale of two 1920s murderesses who milk their crimes for headline-grabbing glory. And, like Parker's film, it doesn't attempt to re-invent the musical; it's content to be a solid, well-crafted genre product that knows what audiences expect from a musical and delivers in spades.

Indeed, the story (adapted from the original musical by "Gods and Monsters" scribe Bill Condon) is the most radical thing here, following as it does the exhilarating up-and-down fame rollercoaster of two cold-blooded killers. Roxie Hart (Renee Zellweger) is a wannabe, a small-time song-and-dance girl who looks at the bright lights of the Chicago clubs and longs for her night in the spotlight. She gets it in a rather unexpected way after she kills her lover (Dominic West), a sleazy furniture salesman who'd filled her heads with lies about showbiz connections. Sent to prison, Roxie finds that the public's thirst for scandalous headlines has turned her into a celebrity, and the scared, confused young murderess transforms into a media monster, playing the people like an orchestra and turning her crime into an act of self-sacrifice. Roxie's rise to fame incurs the wrath of her one-time showbiz idol, Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a Louise-Brooks-bobbed former chorine who's doing time for killing her sister and philandering hubby...and who was the number-one star of Murderess Row until Roxie sauntered in. Caught between these two vixens is Billy Flynn (Richard Gere), Chi-town's biggest celebrity lawyer, who's representing them both...and who has a few "razzle-dazzle" tricks of his own up his sleeve.

As anyone who ever saw Bob Fosse's films ("Cabaret", "STAR80") can attest, the man had a cynical streak a mile wide, so it's not hard to see why the tawdry material of "Chicago" (based on a real 1920s murder case) was attractive to him. Condon, fortunately, does not file down the story's rough edges, and his script scores some trenchant observations on the curious nature of modern celebrity. Velma and Roxie are just like Lorena Bobbitt, Kato Kaelin, and all those other small-timers who, through one stupid action or simply by being in the wrong place at the right time, become famous beyond any right they actually have to achieve such heights. And who lets such undeserved accolades come their way? Us, of course. The film's howling chorus of reporters and courtroom gawkers eagerly sucking up the latest sensational story are the on-screen stand-ins for the audience, whose appetite for scandal and thrills has become so insatiable that the unremarkable are remarked upon, the unworthy celebrated, the evil elevated.

It's a deep message for what is essentially a song-and-dance comedy, but Condon allows himself to engage its darker implications without cramming "message" down our throats. We are, after all, mainly here to see the numbers, and Marshall's expertise with choreography and music makes sure the songs (composed by "Cabaret's" John Kander and Fred Ebb) pack a satisfying punch. "Roxie" is our little killer's exhilarating ode to her impending fame, complete with her name in big red lights. "Cell Block Tango" finds Velma and a gaggle of murderesses singing about how their victims all "had it comin'", complete with some admirably sleazy choreography. Marshall's imaginative staging of "We Both Reached For The Gun", a musical press conference, has Roxie as Billy's wooden ventriloquist's dummy and the reporters as marionettes under his control. And, of course, there's a knockout closing duet for Velma and Roxie, the biting, excitingly filmed "Nowadays". I've never seen "Chicago" onstage, but if this movie captures the energy of the show, it must be one showstopper after another.

Marshall's direction is not always as assured as his staging of the musical numbers. Oddly, the film almost feels like it was shot in sequence, as Marshall's initially choppy editing and scene-pacing grows progressively more seamless as the picture goes along. This is crucial, as the numbers all take place in a sort of fantasy nightclub cut off from the main action. Still, Marshall generally gets high marks for his debut, and he is ably abetted by a top-notch technical crew. In addition to the aforementioned editing (by Martin Walsh), strong work is put forward by costume designer Colleen Atwood (who nicely recreates the sometimes anachronistically revealing dance outfits of the stage show), cinematographer Dion Beebe, and the set design crew, led by production designer John Myrhe, who are able to make their squalor a little more authentic than what one would see on a stage.

Of course, as with any musical, the lion's share of the picture's success rests on the shoulders of its performers, and while Astaire and Garland aren't losing any sleep, "Chicago"'s cast members acquit themselves surprisingly well as song-and-dance artists. Gere, slick with oily charm, displays a witty way with a lyric and a nice relaxed tap-dance style. Zeta-Jones, a dancer in London before she hit the silver screen, shows off the flashiest moves of anyone here, all the while oozing fearsome sexuality. Also turning in fine work are Queen Latifah as the corrupt warden of the women's prison and John C. Reilly as Roxie's hapless cuckold of a husband, whose "Mr. Cellophane" poignantly sums up his nowhere-man status.

As far as I'm concerned, though, this is Renee Zellweger's show all the way. For me, Zellweger's onscreen work has been wildly uneven, ranging from the agreeable "Jerry Maguire" to "Me Myself & Irene", where she seemed stunned to find herself in front of a movie camera. Here, however, her confidence is exhilarating, and as Roxie transforms from a timid criminal to a vampish media super-vixen, Zellweger projects sex, sarcasm, and sweetness (often insincerely) like nothing I've seen from her before. Her dancing is not as polished as Zeta-Jones's, but she more than holds her own, and her numbers are easily the most memorable of the film. Roxie may not be a star, but Zellweger certainly is here; I'm rooting for her to take home a Best Actress Oscar for this.

"Chicago" is not quite the masterpiece some of the early reviews have suggested. The lack of a more experienced director keeps it from being more than a top-notch screen transfer of a venerated stage work. Nevertheless, the film is funny and exciting, with plenty of memorable numbers, and it proves for sure that the success of "Moulin Rouge" wasn't a fluke.

Now...how about that Sweeney Todd movie finally?

Having just seen "Chicago", I must say I was very impress. Kudos to all involved. Rob Marshall has done a fine job in adapting this beloved musical to the big screen (not an easy task), and considering the fact that this is his first big-budget feature, his accomplishment is even more resounding.

The movie follows the lives of two women, living in the tough city of "Chicago" in the 1920's. Velma Kelly (played by Catherine Zeta Jones) is a sexy stage performer, who finds herself thrown into prison after a fit of rage results in the death of both her husband and her sister who have been carry on an illict affair with each other. The other lady in question is wannabe starlet Roxie Hart (played by Renee Zellweger), a married woman, who after being seduced and duped by her devious lover, get revenge on him by shooting him dead. This act of vengeance also see's her taking a trip to prison, and it's here that a battle of one-up-man-ship commences between the two ladies, as both use whatever means at their disposal to get (a) out of jail and (b) gain the most publicity doing it. The connecting factor between Velma & Roxie comes in the form of an unscrupulous high profile defense attorney Billy Flynn (played by Richard Gere), who also knowing when to take advantage of an opportunity, becomes counsel for both women and their respective cases.

"Chicago" is fortunate enough to have several things going for it. Aside from strong direction from Rob Marshall, the film is blessed with memorable performances from it's three leads. Catherine Zeta Jones oozes a vampish nature to her portrayal of Velma Kelly. Looking every inch the star, she commands a strong presence in the film, and appears right at home handling both the singing and dancing aspects of the role with ease and class, not to mention a high degree of sexiness. Richard Gere also plays his part in the movie with aplomb. Despite his questionable tactics and somewhat dubious nature, Gere lends a roguish charm to his character which has you walking away if not liking then at the very least admiring his character's quick skill and cunning guile. Gere is also a strong performer in the areas of singing and dancing (much to my surprise!!). However, it's Renee Zellweger who takes centre-stage in "Chicago" - and boy, does she relish every moment of it. She is without doubt, the "star performer" of this film. With sly nods to past "blonde bombshells" such as Jean Harlow & Marilyn Munroe, Zellweger runs the gauntlet of high and lows that require of her character. From demure & sweet, to sly & munipulative, you never know what she gonna do next. And as with Zeta-Jones & Gere, Zellweger also does justice when it comes to belting out a tune, or doing the hot step.

Our three principals are lucky to have an equally talented supporting cast to back them up. From John C Reilly as the down-trodden husband of Roxie Hart, to Queen Latifah as the "larger-than-life" matron of a women's prison, everyone in this film is right on the mark with their performances. Yet at the heart of any good musical, is of course the musical numbers, and in this respect "Chicago" does not disappoint.

From the opening heat of "All That Jazz", to the saltry "When You're Good To Mama", through to the electric "Cellblock Tango", onto the wistful "Roxie", then to the playful kitsch of "Razzle Dazzle" to the all-out "Finale" featuring Velma & Roxie, "Chicago" scores big-time. The choreography, costume & set designs are all terrific, giving the film the look and feel it's rightly deserves.

With the high-profile success of "Moulin Rogue" in 2001, "Chicago" is likely to follow in the same footsteps, and hopefully this will continue a trend in Hollywood to bring back "the musical" - with the same love & attention that has obviously gone into making "Chicago". I highly recommend this film. You're guaranteed a enjoyable & entertaining night at the movies..... with a smile on your dial, a tune in your head, and a spring in your step ....... go and treat yourself ..... you know you want to.......

Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, Broadway musicals which are heavy on concept translate poorly to film. Live theater relies upon some level of interaction with the audience (as well as some degree of spontaneity), creating an artificial atmosphere that gives a director freedom to use staging and theatrical devices that can make the most of such interaction. By contrast, film creates an illusion of reality that makes such theatrical devices look phony. Rob Marshall's "Chicago" provides the exception to this rule.

To tell the truth, I've never been much of a fan of the stage show. Bob Fosse (with help from John Kander and Fred Ebb) designed the show as a series of vaudeville skits tied together by the flimsiest of books. If you like revues with great choreography, the show worked fine; if you were looking for an actual "musical", you were better advised to look elsewhere. Prior to this film, I'd have thought that you'd also have to look elsewhere to find good material for a film.

Then came Rob Marshall. Conceiving the show as events as seen through Roxie Hart's (Renee Zellweger) imagination, the dance numbers become believable because she truly sees all the world as a stage. In effect, what Marshall has done is substitute Roxie for the theater's live audience and, in the process, made the theatrical touches plausible within the film's context. In doing so, Marshall has relied upon superb editing and choreography to keep up the pace and continuity (such as it is) of the film.

Perhaps the best example of this is "Cell Block Tango," which on stage is a stylized number that is removed from the central action of what book there is. In the film, the number arises from various conversations Roxie has had with other prisoners, focused through her show-biz crazy mind, and puts her own acts in context. Likewise, "They Both Reached for the Gun," played as a ventiloquist act in which her mouthpiece Billy Flynn (Richard Gere) pulls both Roxie's strings and those of the press, and uses Roxie's mind as the filter to point up the ease in which the public can be manipulated.

In choreographing these numbers, Marshall has also done an impressive job. Rather than merely revive Fosse's choreography from the 1975 production, he seems inspired by it to create new choreography that plays off the editing for maximum effect. The two aforementioned numbers are excellent examples of this choreographic technique, as well as "All That Jazz" (intercutting between a vaudeville dance act and two plot threads), "Mr. Cellophane" (beautifully performed by John C. Reilly, as Roxie's schlepp of a husband), "I Can't Do It Alone" and "Razzle Dazzle." Marshall also allows a dose of sanity to slip into the proceedings with a non-musical number, in which a seemingly wrongfully convicted woman is put to death -- the scene slams the brakes for a moment, lest we be completely seduced by the glitter or Roxie's perspective, and lose our own rational perspective on right, wrong and justice. It's a jarring moment, but a responsible (and some may say necessary) one.

The performances are, for the most part, up to the task. Catherine Zeta-Jones richly earned her Oscar as Velma Kelly -- vocally, choreographically, and in the acting department. Gere is also very good (his tap dance number is truly impressive), and John C. Reilly (as Roxie's schlepp husband) and Queen Latifah (as an opportunistic warden) are outstanding. In fact, the weakest performance in the film is Zellweger, and this seems more of a fault of the script than Zellweger. Even though most of the film focuses on her, she remains a cipher at the end of the picture, most likely because the central conceit of the film (Roxie's perception of events) gets in the way of her character development. She still does the best job she can with what she's given with an underwritten part (to be fair, the part is even less well written for the stage version).

Did "Chicago" deserve to beat "Gangs of New York" or "The Pianist" for Best Picture? I'm not sure. All I know is that the film is an incredible achievement given its source material and the natural disadvantages of converting musicals to film. Marshall set out to climb K-2, and he reached the top.

In 1924, Cook County (Chicago) had two trials of women who killed their lovers. Both Beaulah Annan and Belva Gaertner inexplicably were found innocent--and the media loved it. As a result, in 1927, a silent fictionalized movie called "Chicago" debuted. Then, in 1942, Ginger Rogers starred in a remake called "Roxie Hart". In the mid-1970s, a musical version of "Roxie Hart" debuted on Broadway. And, in 2002, the filmed version of the 70s musical was released. Now that is a long and interesting pedigree! As for the film, it's an interesting melange. The songs are great and the film is very impressive...yet it's so incredibly anachronistic that it made my brain hurt. Now some of this I could understand--it was more like a filmed version of the play than most musicals. But why they chose to have ridiculously modern outfits and backup dancers confused me. Why did Catherine Zeta-Jones, Renée Zellweger and Richard Gere dress and look like they were from the 1920s--yet the rest of the dancers look right off the stage of Broadway circa 2002?! The fishnet stockings, 2002 hairstyles and the like really confused the crap out of me--especially since I am a history teacher.

Still, I must point out the singing and songs were great and the story was a huge improvement over the Ginger Rogers film (which was wretched). It was well made and I was particularly impressed by Zeta-Jones (who won the Best Supporting Actress Oscar for it), Gere and John C. Reilly. They really worked their butts off and impressed me. So, because so much was right about this film I certainly recommend it. It's just too bad they didn't get the details right or even try when it came to all the minor characters and costumes. Oh well, you can't win 'em all.