The original Broadway production of Chicago opened to mixed reviews in 1975 yet managed to run a respectable 936 performances. It was based on a 1927 non-musical play. Author Maurine Dallas Watkins had been motivated by actual events that occurred when she was a journalist covering the 1924 murder trials of Beulah Annan and Belva Gaertner, who served as the inspiration for her fictional characters Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly.
The idea of adapting this work as a musical is credited to Broadway star Gwen Verdon. She approached director and choreographer Bob Fosse, her husband at the time. Faced with repeated refusals from Watkins, the two had to wait until she passed away in 1968 to obtain the rights from her estate. Timing is everything, as they say, and Chicago: A Musical Vaudeville unfortunately missed the mark and never quite realized its full potential in this highly original staging. Some claim it was too dark. Others say it was ahead of its time. Even more maintain it was eclipsed by A Chorus Line. Flash forward 21 years to 1996, and a revival starring Ann Reinking, Bebe Neuwirth, and James Naughton was the smash hit of the season. In fact, it’s still running, to this day, save for the pandemic, and its widespread appeal prompted renewed interest in a film adaptation.
With Disney’s successful television remake of Annie, its director-choreographer Rob Marshall was invited by producers to discuss his involvement in a screen version of the Pulitzer Prize- and Tony-winning musical Rent. Instead, at the meeting, Marshall pitched his concept for Chicago as a movie where most of the vaudeville numbers on stage take place in Roxie Hart’s mind—and the rest is history. Oscar-winner Bill Condon was brought on board to write the screenplay, and casting began. Producers Martin Richards, Craig Zadan, and Neil Meron wanted Catherine Zeta-Jones, a popular film star with musical-theatre roots, and she was offered her choice of roles. Perhaps unfamiliar with the characters’ story arcs and misled by the co-billing of Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera in the original production, she didn’t seem to realize or care that Velma Kelly (Rivera’s role) was a subordinate one. Zeta-Jones was hell-bent on singing the best-known song from the show, “All That Jazz.” In the end, her instincts led to a spectacular performance and an Oscar win for Best Supporting Actress.
The movie opens with this number, and I remember my jaw hitting the floor when she started to sing and dance. I had no idea—and I’ve been equally impressed with her in subsequent viewings. The iconic music and lyrics by John Kander and Fred Ebb add to the wow-factor, but so does Marshall’s expert direction and the brilliant editing of Martin Walsh. Aside from the thrilling, clockwork timing, it’s the visual narrative woven by Condon where we get so much information in this one number. We see Velma arrive late for her sister act at the Onyx Club. She washes blood from her hands and hides a revolver in her dressing-room drawer before she makes the anticipated entrance alone. As the song begins, Roxie Hart (Oscar-nominee Renée Zellweger) enters the club with her handsy lover Fred Casely (Dominic West). She stays just long enough to picture herself on stage instead of Velma before the same flirtatious couple slips away for a hush-hush tryst at Roxie’s apartment. The intercutting of Roxie and Fred’s passionate romp in bed juxtaposed with Velma belting out the final notes of the song as the cops arrive to arrest her is pure genius. It’s one of the best opening sequences in any musical film.
Many high-profile actresses were considered for Roxie before Marshall chose Zellweger, who gives an exceptional performance as the fame-hungry murderess with a penchant for infidelity. Regarding the slick, shyster lawyer Billy Flinn, another movie star with musical-theatre roots landed the part. Richard Gere was overlooked by the Academy, but he delivers an outstanding portrayal. All three primary roles were filled by well-known actors who can actually sing and dance.
For prison matron Mama Morton, Marshall looked to Grammy-winning rapper/singer Queen Latifah, who was making a name for herself as an actress at the time. Latifah remains an inspired choice, not just for the much-needed diversity, but she channels her inner Sophie Tucker and received an Oscar nomination for her effort. Veteran stage and screen actor John C. Reilly delivers a show-stopping rendition of “Mister Cellophane” as Roxie’s estranged husband Amos Hart. He was nominated for his work as well. Aside from these two intentional nods to Sophie Tucker and Bert Williams, respectively, Fred Ebb saw to it that other vaudeville archetypes were represented and celebrated in this clever score, including a classic ventriloquist number, which speaks to the core message of the film. We see Roxie as the “dummy” manipulated by Billy, who not only controls her words but plays the media like a master puppeteer, pulling their strings from high above in this symbolic but grimly accurate theatrical setting. Christine Baranski as reporter Mary Sunshine leads a herd of journalists. She represents the amalgam of all superficial, sympathetic, popular writers from the era that (original author) Maurine Watkins despised.
It’s easy to spot parallels between Chicago and Cabaret, but they are cosmetic at best. Contrary to popular assumption, Fosse had nothing to do with the original stage production of Cabaret, but he put his stylistic stamp on the film. Kander and Ebb wrote the songs for both Broadway shows, and for the most part, the numbers in their screen versions are isolated to single venues. For Cabaret, they take place inside the Kit Kat Klub. For Chicago, they are conjured in Roxie’s own “vaudeville of the mind.” The movies are quite different in other respects. Cabaret reminds me more of Gone with the Wind, regarding its core structure. Both stories unfold on the brink of great wars, but these historical settings serve as backdrops. We stay focused on the main characters at all times while the world around them shatters. Chicago, on the other hand, delivers a dark message about the lust for fame at any cost, the idolization of instant celebrities, the fleeting perception of their influence and worth, and the parasites who feed off of them. This pointed indictment ultimately transcends the characters. It’s the reason Chicago resonates perhaps even more with movie audiences. While Cabaret is about people, Chicago is about ideas.
It’s to Rob Marshall’s credit that he didn’t “help” this cynical dose of human nature by making it even darker. Fosse’s Chicago was gritty and somewhat stylishly sleazy, like a dirty burlesque joke. By contrast, Marshall’s Chicago is sleek and deadly, more like an amusing, sexy, poisonous arrow. It scored a bullseye with critics and fans to take in over $170 million at the box office in the U.S. alone. Not since 1968’s Oliver! had a musical won Best Picture. As of this post, it’s been another 18-year gap after that, although with the success of this film and Moulin Rouge! from the year prior, a string of movie musicals emerged, and audiences have grown more accepting of the genre once again. That alone is a good thing.
Chicago
Director | Rob Marshall |
Primary Cast | Renée Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Richard Gere, Queen Latifah, John C. Reilly, Christine Baranski, Taye Diggs, Colm Feore, Lucy Liu, Dominic West, Mýa Harrison, Jayne Eastwood, Chita Rivera, Susan Misner, Denise Faye, Dierdre Goodwin, Ekaterina Shchelkanova |
Familiar Faces | none (no repeat performers from the previous winning films) |
Firsts | First feature film directed by Rob Marshall |
Total Wins | 6 (Picture, Supporting Actress: Catherine Zeta-Jones, Art Direction, Costume Design, Editing, Sound) |
Total Nominations | 13 (Picture, Director, Actress: Renée Zellweger, Supporting Actor: John C. Reilly, Supporting Actress: Catherine Zeta-Jones, Supporting Actress: Queen Latifah, Screenplay: Adapted, Cinematography, Art Direction, Costume Design, Editing, Sound, Song: “I Move On”) |
Viewing Format | Blu-ray Disc |