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BY LARRY CARROLL |
Chicago is an experience unlike any you've witnessed before - a
distinctly theatrical tale, mixed with the narrative strengths of moviemaking,
executed flawlessly. There are a lot of words that could describe this
musical, but the best summation would lay within these two: it's alive.
Nothing released this year comes close to the sheer kilowatts of energy
that pump down off the screen and blare from the speakers as the film
captures you in its grasp. It's stuffed to the gills with great performances,
infectious music, a solid storyline - and all that jazz.
In an eye-opening performance, Renee Zellweger goes as far against type
as possible to play murderous, philandering, aspiring nightclub singer
Roxie Hart. For those unfamiliar with the Bob Fosse stage production,
the story begins when Roxie kills the man with whom she's been
cheating on her husband. Guilty as sin, yet still a wide-eyed innocent,
she is quickly arrested and sent off to a prison section reserved for
females who kill. There, she finally gets to meet her idol, vaudeville
performer Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones, America's Sweethearts),
who is also looking at a possible death sentence.
Velma and Roxie are watched over by the lovably conniving Matron "Mama"
Morton (Queen Latifah, Set it Off), who never met a bribe she didn't
like. Through Mama, the women enlist the help of sleazebag lawyer Billy
Flynn (Richard Gere), a believer that the key to any acquittal is in playing
the media just right. Flynn falls in love with Roxie's case, and
together the two transform her image from a cheating wife to an emotionally
unfulfilled victim of poor upbringing that may or may not be pregnant
with her husband's child. As all this takes place, Roxie continues
to dream of someday being a vaudeville performer herself, and much of
the film's exposition takes place in the musical numbers she imagines
herself and those around her performing.
And what musical numbers they are. Director Rob Marshall, making an amazing
film debut, presents his film with sexiness, attitude and style to spare.
There are so many distinct, memorable, show-stopping musical moments that
it's hard to list them all q certainly the opening production
of "All That Jazz" is among the best, but you can't
forget "Cell Block Tango" (which has convicted killers singing
about how their husbands deserved it), or Queen Latifah's sassy
"When You're Good to Mama" number. Roxie telling her
tale with "We Both Reached For the Gun" is both fun and visually
proficient, and John C. Reilly's stunningly simple "Mr.
Cellophane" is the most emotionally touching of them all. Then there's
the finale, which is reminiscent of the end of a fireworks show q
with every last explosion shot off rat-a-tat style, leaving you breathless
but wanting more.
People who raved when Zellweger brought Bridget Jones to life will be
in shock; this film takes her range a hundred steps further. In comparison
to Chicago, her acting in Jones looks like a "10-10-321"
commercial. Who could have imagined that the sheepish girl with the sweet
smile from Jerry Maguire had such a diva inside of her? In particular,
there is one scene in the film, when Zellweger dances and sings alone
with nothing but darkness and the occasional mirror for assistance, when
you realize that what she's doing is nothing less than courageous.
The director raised some eyebrows when he cast her in the lead, but Zellweger
takes the role of Roxie and makes an indelible stamp on it. Any actress
who ever plays this role in the future, on screen or stage, will undoubtedly
be compared to Zellweger...and I suspect most of them will come up short.
Despite the recurring fear that she will freeze the action and try to
sell us a mobile phone, it's hard not to love Catherine Zeta-Jones
in her role. The actress shows off her remarkable pipes (and legs) here,
managing the difficult task of stepping out of the shadows of Bebe Neuwirth
(who played the role on stage and many thought should have been cast here).
Zeta-Jones and Zellweger have a great, constantly clashing dynamic that
is perfect for the story, but they also work well together as dancing
partners, which the script demands.
The best performance of the film, however, is given by Reilly as Roxie's
dim husband, Amos. The veteran supporting actor has played this kind of
role many times before (most recently in The Good Girl), but he imbues
this character with so much pathetic, puppy-dog love that you find yourself
caring about him more than anyone. He's a schlub, but he's
a good guy, and when he starts singing about how no one ever notices him
(while his number is interspersed with a scene in Richard Gere's
office that has the lawyer asking if he's still there) it's
heartbreaking. Reilly has less screen time than any of the major leads,
but he manages to milk an amazing amount of sympathy out of it.
Gere is suitable for the part of Billy Flynn, but never really stretches
too much beyond what the role requires. The musical number that has him
dangling reporters from puppet strings, and another that has him tap-dancing
in the courtroom, are both well done. They seem to be a triumph of presentation
rather than performance, however, attributable more to Marshall than Gere.
Unlike the other leads, it's tough to surrender yourself to Gere
at first q his outbreaks into song are jarring. Eventually Gere's
singing becomes more easily digestible, but the actor is better suited
for the scenes when the music stops.
Some people will undoubtedly moan about the absence of certain songs that
were cut from the stage show, including "My Own Best Friend"
and "Class", but it would take that kind of nitpicking to
find something wrong with Chicago. Unlike the supposed musical-reviving
Moulin Rouge of last year, this movie brings with it a compelling storyline
and songs that actually have something to do with it. If there is a movie
that will return the genre to prominence, it would be something like Chicago,
a true musical that doesn't stray far from its roots. Whether you're
a fan of musicals or not, you'll love this movie.
GRADE: A
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