Yesterday, PJ and I went to see Chicago, which came to Athens as part of the university’s performing arts series. Here’s a Youtube clip from when the Broadway production visited The Early Show. The touring company we saw was, of course, based on this production.
Until yesterday, almost my entire knowledge of this musical was from the 2002 movie version starring Richard Gere, Renée Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, John C. Reilly, and Queen Latifah. The only other thing I knew about the show was that Bebe Neuwirth had starred in it (and won a Tony) in the mid-90s. Here’s a clip of her as Velma Kelly performing during the Tony Award show:
I really only have two responses to the touring company version of the musical. On the one hand, this production suffers from the slightness of the musical’s book and the limits of being a touring company. But on the other hand, I finally learned why God created tight, low-rise pants for men!
Chicago barely has a plot. Roxie Hart kills her lover when he states that he’s leaving her. While in prison she meets Mama Morton, the warden who does favors for her girls in exchange for a little something from them (usually denominations of $50s), Velma Kelly, who killed her sister and husband when she found them having sex together, and Billy Flynn, the lawyer who specializes in helping female murderers beat the rap. Billy helps Roxie win an acquittal (for a mere $5000), and Roxie kind of fulfills her dream of becoming a vaudeville act. That’s about it as far as plot goes.
The musical is also making a statement about justice (and the lack thereof) in America, and I don’t want to discount that message altogether. But I can’t help but compare this musical to Cabaret, which has a few similarities to this work but seems to pack a bigger punch.
The musical numbers are great musically — and most of the actors in the touring company are good in their roles — but the thinness of the book really relies on the musical numbers having a wow factor that’s difficult for a touring company to achieve. They obviously have to stage the numbers for the smallest stage rather than for maximum venue potential. One could argue that the production is minimalist, but overall I wasn’t razzle-dazzled.
I will note, however, that Lindsay Roginski is great as Roxie. She’s a wonderful singer and dancer and she imbues Roxie with spunk and some humanity. Roginski makes her somewhat sympatheic. Or, at least, she makes her the most sympathetic character in a cast of totally unsympathetic characters.
Roginski is also a great comedian. Her Roxie is playful and coy. And we see her wise-up and realize how well she can play the system. Hers is an excellent performance. She definitely steals the show.
It’s always been a little weird to me that Velma is usually seen as the lead role in this musical and Roxie as supporting/featured. Roginski definitely makes you forget that her character is on stage less often than Velma.
But the main thing that I liked about this production is that it finally taught me why tight, low-rise pants were made: on the right man, they are hot, hot, hot — all you need are great abs and a round, magnificent ass!
In this case, they were on Adam Pellegrine, who plays a couple of small roles and is frequently seen on-stage as part of (the most prominent member of) the chorus. He, too, is an excellent dancer and all-around performer. While I do think he’s totally hot, I also think he’s really talented apart from his hunky dancer’s body. I hope he gets his shot at a big leading role someday.
Overall, this is a perfectly good production of a perfectly good musical. Nothing tremendously wonderful — except for the pants — but an entertaining night at the theater nevertheless.
![IMG_8341[1]](https://live.staticflickr.com/8644/27753735444_2ca20d29d0_s.jpg "IMG_8341[1]")
This Gaudy Gilded Stage 
Many fashion trends are really only good on men with lovely asses. Unfortunately, such asses are rarer than the trend…
Sad, that.
athens was a show where the actual set had to be cut. so the minimalist vibe you felt was a venue issue. not an issue with the show. it’s the same show as the new york company — and it’s been deemed BETTER than the new york company by many — and to say that the show “barely has a plot” is to say that the human body is barely alive. perhaps you were too distracted by adam’s ass to notice???
and roxie is the main character, dear. again, maybe you were too distracted by ass…
you should probably NOT write reviews if you won’t actually pay attention to the show OR do your homework. nice effort though. i suppose you’re entitled to your (high school girl) opinion.
I’m always gratified by having my friends read my blog, but it’s even more exciting to get responses by people I don’t know — even insanely hostile ones!
The obvious point of every blog is to share one’s opinions, views, and ideas with others, so I feel totally entitled to my opinions, regardless of how well or ill informed others might think they are. Consequently, I don’t really feel the need to respond to comments — perhaps I should respond and acknowledge them more often.
That said, I thought I should point out a few things in response to “Dub.”
First, I’m not a “high school girl” — I’m a bitchy, middle-aged theater queen, though I readily admit the probable similarity.
Second, I will continue to insist that this musical is really a series of great musical numbers tied together by the barest of plots and the thinnest of books. Indeed, Dub agrees that this production has been minimalized to fit the various venues — it used only about 1/2 to 2/3 of the stage here in Athens. My point is that downsizing the production places even more emphasis on the music and dialogue, the first of which is great, the second not so much. Maybe it’s a fault of mine, but I can’t remember one piece of dialogue from this musical. That’s not the case with Cabaret, My Fair Lady, Man of La Mancha, South Pacific, or Spring Awakening. (Ok, that’s a slight exaggeration — I can’t *really* remember any dialogue from South Pacific, but I’m sure it has some!)
Third, clearly this production hopes to razzle dazzle the audience with the low-cut costumes (of both the men and women) so that we don’t notice that the minimalization. Why else serve up the male dancers’ asses, abs, and pecs (as well as various parts of the female dancers’ bodies)? I didn’t dress Mr. Pellegrine, to name just one example, in nothing but low-rise pants and a vest. Somebody understood where the show’s assets lie or else s/he wouldn’t have emphasized “ass” over substance. On that level, this show is definitely a successful production.
And finally, while Tony award nominations are by no means the arbiter of leading/featured roles, actresses playing Velma have always been nominated in the lead category; The Roxies haven’t. A closer look at the database shows that this is because the Roxies aren’t always nominated at all. So, perhaps we can agree that Velma and Roxie are co-leads?
As I stated in my review, my only previous viewing of this musical was the movie, so I was surprised that most of the movie’s dialogue and narrative order does not exist in the stage production. I was also surprised that Roxie’s role is actually smaller than Velma’s — I obviously didn’t have a stopwatch timing their appearance on stage, but my impression was that Velma was on stage longer. Ultimately, I liked the movie version better, which surprises me, since I rarely like the movie version of anything — a play, a musical, a book — better than the original.
I accidentally deleted Dub’s other response to my review. S/he recommended that I take up reviewing ice cream rather than musicals. Chicago’s costumes had inspired me to consider adding porn reviews to my blog, but I think ice cream might be better!
P.S. In reading back over my comment, I realize that one thing had gotten lost: I actually liked the touring production of the show — I just don’t think the musical itself is all that great.
My comment in response to Dub reminded me of David Niven’s character in Please Don’t Eat the Daisies. He plays a theater reviewer who gets drunk with the power of his pen, so to speak. His character reacts to criticism by becoming more critical and snide. I hope my comment doesn’t come across that way. I do think the production was perfectly fine for a touring company.
But “speaking” of David Niven, I realize that his character in that movie might actually have been my ideal man when I was a budding, young homosexual. My parents didn’t like us watching more recent movies when I was a kid, so my sister and I grew up watching John Wayne movies (or at least she did) and musicals (me!) — it really makes me wonder how they couldn’t have known I was gay?! If David Niven’s character was my ideal, it explains a lot about my adult relationships! 🙂
I just wanted to clarify: I liked the touring production just fine — it didn’t knock my socks off, but I was entertained. The elements I was less fond of weren’t the production’s fault; rather, I think the book is rather weak.
yes. you are entitled to your opinion and i SOOOOOOO appreciate it. i’m not a theatre “queen” but i am an advent theatre goer and i was in the audience during athens.
a few things you said were correct and a few of them…weeeeell. the words “hot mess” come to mind. i can’t help but think that your apparent love affair with pellegrine’s ass didn’t help you understand any of the production better.
i do want to address the fact that you place great emphasis on the fact that time on stage is directly proportional to who’s a lead. gravely mistaken, you are. shall we return to theatre 101? protagonist. antagonist. blah blah blah blah blah. velma is merely an involved narrator. she’s a lead, yes, but roxie is primary.
CHICAGO is a true story. roxie. velma. billy. mary sunshine. all real people. it was first a play written from the perspective of a reporter. then it was a movie (twice over) and one movie was simply titled — you (didn’t) guess(ed) it — roxie. the emphasis is placed on how celebrities get off because they’re celebrities. the story is about roxie’s journey. the show’s purpose isn’t to razzle dazzle you. if that were the case, they’d strip. or do magic tricks. or throw glitter in your face. it was to tell a story. a REAL story. that’s relevant to today. the purpose is to show you how you’ve alREADY been razzle dazzled…we rather. and i say we as a nation.
i liked the movie too, but it’s easy to be distracted by boas and puppets and sets — and in the original production the characters wore a LOT less…even with billy stripping down to his boxers. removing all the “glitz and glam” kinda allows the audience to focus on the apparent story line (amount of dialogue is NOT synonymous with amount of plot…) and the way things can get manipulated. it’s an incorrect assumption that the costumes were an intend to razzle. i could get into the depth of the show, but i won’t. i have a feeling that you wouldn’t understand it anyway, not because i think your intelligence is deficient but because your level of knowledge isn’t as evident and i would like.
and to lump CHICAGO in with my fair lady and those others? c’mon. wrong. wrong. wrong.
dub
I’m always fascinated that people like DUB, a self-described “advent theatre goer” (does he/she only go to theatre during Advent?), feel so compelled to engage in discussions with reviewers whose opinions they “SOOOOOOO appreciate,” whom they believe incapable of understanding the “depth of the show” under discussion, and whose “level of knowledge” they question.
At the risk of repeating DUB’s mistake of engaging with people whose opinions they don’t respect, I will point out that DUB’s comments here clearly show whose “level of knowledge” is to be questioned. He/she characterizes your description of Velma as a lead as “gravely mistaken,” only to admit that “she’s a lead, yes” in the next line. DUB seems to think that a play’s having been based upon a true story makes it impossible for that play’s book, music, or staging to be flawed. And, only someone with very little knowledge of or respect for the canon of American musical theater would think CHICAGO somehow wronged by being “lumped in” with MY FAIR LADY, SOUTH PACIFIC, and CABARET, especially when your comments are asserting that it’s far inferior to those works (which it clearly is).
I’m glad there are people in the world, like DUB, who find fluff like CHICAGO intellectually stimulating [DUB must be really excited about those upcoming appearances of MOVING OUT and ANNIE!! So thought-provoking! So profound!]. DUB, if you do have your own blog, I hope you’ll post a link to it here. Since you obviously have a critical mind much superior to that of “thisgaudygildedstage,” I would “SOOOOOOO appreciate” the opportunity to learn from your wisdom and experience. Of course, I’m just kidding, but I’m sure your blog might be good for a few laughs.
It feels like thisgaudygildedstage is about to have its first flame war — exciting!
Actually, I am well aware that Chicago was based on a series of newspaper articles and then a play written by a 1920s journalist, Maurine Dallas Watkins. Of course, Chicago more or less turns her into Mary Sunshine, a comic buffoon and frequent dupe of Billy Flynn. I didn’t have time to write in my review how interesting I found this element of the play, but I appreciate Dub reminding me of this point. I’ve not read Watkins’s original articles or play, but I assume she was a “serious” journalist, at least by 1920s standards, which weren’t very high I admit. It’s interesting to me that the musical turns “her” into nothing more than a joke.
I find this transformation problematic, as it feeds into my general perception that there’s not much to this work. As I wrote above (kind of), I think this musical has too much focus on the razzle dazzle and not enough substance. My point about the costumes is ultimately about this problem too. (That’s not to deny that Chicago has a point; I just don’t think that point is very complex or indeed all that stimulating.)
The main contrast for me is to Cabaret. That musical is also entertaining and foregrounds erotic razzle dazzle (the degree of both depend on the individual production, of course). The difference between the two is that Cabaret knocks the wind out of you. It goes beyond simply saying Nazis are bad — or celebrities can evade justice while innocent non-entities are condemned despite their innocence (and indeed, no one even bothers to try to discover the truth). I can’t imagine that anyone leaves an even just decent performance of Cabaret uncomplicatedly just singing or humming the songs. And, of course, by returning to “Wilkommen” at the end of the play, we are forced to acknowledge the difference between the opening, fun version of the song and the final one, to see the problem with forgetting our problems “out there,” since that’s how forces like the Nazis come to power. I think the musical also implicates us in its critique of escapism more strongly than Chicago does. (Even though it’s not a musical, I think The Little Dog Laughed has a similar punch, though it’s about Hollywood, celebrity, and sexuality.)
I really don’t see Chicago making as substantive a statement — sure, it tells us that justice is only as good as your money and fame, but that doesn’t strike me as all that profound really. This is especially true since the show closes with Roxie’s triumphant “Hot Honey Rag.” I hesitate to call it a feel good number, but it certainly doesn’t leave you thinking about the complexities of the musical’s plot, themes, or characterization.
I totally agree that the amount of dialogue does not equate to the amount of plot, though I would nevertheless see them as somewhat connected. I saw the plot of Chicago (the staged version) as being more elliptical, which I suppose makes it narratively complex and sophisticated. Ultimately, however, I thought that the elliptical quality of the plot — and lack of much dialogue — undercuts the musical’s thematic point: A) We might care about some of the characters more if they had more to say and B) we might leave the production actually wanting to do something about social justice. Does anyone ever leave Chicago feeling depressed about the state of justice in America? Does anyone follow a performance of the musical by volunteering to work on social justice issues in their local community? Or do they just leave singing/humming “All That Jazz” and thinking about the dancers’ asses?
As to who’s the lead in this work, I think that’s ultimately a silly discussion to have. We clearly agree that there are two leads. I’m not really sure why it matters who is “primary.” If you reread my original review, you’ll see that my point in raising the issue was that Lindsay Roginski is great in the role. I’m not sure how that led to a disagreement about role size, but I’ll reiterate that I thought she was really great. I hope to see her in other productions sometime. I could see her playing a marvelous Sally Bowles, Eliza Doolittle, or just about any role that Sutton Foster might be in competition for. Or, when she’s older, Norma Desmond.
Maybe the fault does lie in me. Perhaps my twenty-five years of seriously attending plays and musicals, of watching films, and of reading literature (not to mention my almost 15 years of teaching such texts) has left me poorly equipped to understand the deep and complex nature of a work like Chicago. (Note: I’ve been a theater queen since I was 12. I may have alluded to this in a previous post about my junior high theater memories.)
Perhaps.
But I choose to believe that I am well equipped to have an informed response to this — or any other production — I see. I enjoyed it, but Chicago is not the most substantive musical I’ve ever seen. I’d say it has more to it than Avenue Q or Camelot but far less than Cabaret, Billy Elliot, My Fair Lady, South Pacific, Man of La Mancha or anyone of a dozen other works. (Maybe future reviews I write can use this scale to evaluate works’ narrative and thematic complexity: Avenue Q — Chicago — Cabaret.)
In closing, I’ll just say that I apologize if Dub has taken offense to the fact that someone doesn’t admire a production of his/her favorite musical as much as s/he does. I know how it feels to know that one’s favorite musical isn’t as beloved by others. Mine is Man of La Mancha, but almost no one else I know shares my love for it. Perhaps the difference is that I don’t lash out at people with different opinions or try to insult their views just because they differ with mine — though secretly I wonder how anyone can be so stupid as to not see that Man of La Mancha is brilliant! 🙂
holgrave, you’re cute.
you’ve obviously missed the point of what i was saying and don’t really understand your point. i SOOOOOOOOO appreciate your opinion as well.
i’m not asking for anyone to like the production. i could care less. i happen to dislike my fair lady and camelot. spamalot. annie. and cats? not something that i’d sit through unless i had a friend — or adam pellegrine — in it. but i mean to address the whole of the show. it seems that you think that i’ve taken this expression of opinion personally. how can i?
about “lumping” CHICAGO in with the rest, i mean as a genre. there are major differences in the shows. it has nothing to do with the aesthetic. just the set up. can’t argue with facts, although i SOOOOOOOO appreciate the opportunity you afforded in allowing me to clarify.
to say that CHICAGO isn’t a smart show would be incorrect. the depth is definitely there. i suppose, holgrave, that you find mary poppins amazingly intelligent (technically it is). or maybe you’d rather see rent. everybody has aids. whoopie. (no pun intended.)
now, stage: please don’t think i’m lashing out. just passionate. you’re right. man of la mancha is…suspect. your years of “theatrical involvement” aren’t a mistake, but i guess it’s like a 50-year-old who’s always right.
generally, no one comes to a performance expecting to be confronted with reality. we watch presidential debates (yeah, right) for that. they come to escape for an hour an two. to go on a date. to forget about the outside world. so whether or not they’re confronted with reality, they weren’t coming to “inspiration for volunteering.” that said, it doesn’t negate the plot of the show.
anywhos, i think we can (all) agree to disagree. i never asked anyone to like the show. you may not. it’s fine.
and there’s no war. only love.
I just want to clarify one thing for the record: I’m no where close to being 50! I still have more than a decade before reaching that milestone.
Hopefully, we can ll agree that Mary Poppins and Rent are, technicalities aside, shitty musicals.
It seems clear that we’re not getting what the other is saying, but thanks for visiting my blog; I hope you continue to stop by every now and then to see my other theater reviews.
I also want to second that RENT and (especially) MARY POPPINS are fluff (or “shitty” to use thisgaudygildedstage’s word) as well. Like CHICAGO or CATS or PHANTOM, they substitute “razzle dazzle” for anything substantive to say. I’d imagine the list of musicals in this category could get quite long.
In the end, I just wonder if DUB has seen any really good stage musicals. If not, that’s likely why he/she holds such a high opinion of CHICAGO.
DUB, you really should treat yourself to a wonderful gift and see a production of CABARET as soon as you can. Or take a trip to NYC and see BILLY ELLIOT or SPRING AWAKENING, two recent musicals that are quite impressive.