Cabaret

Midway through Act 1 of Studio 301's production of Cabaret, running at the Wyatt Pavilion through April 16, the Jewish grocer Herr. Schultz (Yahya Rouhani) hands his landlady, Fraulein Schneider (Melanie Levy) a pineapple, which is the impetus for “The Pineapple Song.” During the song, actress Levy kind of bobbles the pineapple accidentally and some fronds fly off of the top of it. I kept waiting for someone to pick up the pineapple fronds, but at the end of the show they were still there. Even when the chorus girls from the Kit Kat club were crawling around on the floor picking up currency during “The Money Song,” they left the pineapple fronds there. Nor did anybody pick them up during intermission.

In Act 2, in another scene between Schultz and Schneider, a broom and an orange are left on the floor. It took 3 scenes before anyone picked them up (they danced on top of the broom and over the orange during the song “If You Could See her”) and toward the end of Act 2, Sally Bowles (Jennifer Nelson) drops what looks like a pitch pipe as she makes her entrance. It didn’t get kicked off stage until the curtain call, though scenery was moved around it.

I mention these serious oversights because I’m having a difficult time knowing what to say about this show. Who can’t like “Cabaret,” right? It’s downright unAmerican.

In fact, I had high hopes for the show when I entered Wyatt Pavilion, which had been turned into the Kit Kat Club, a seedy nightclub in Berlin in the days when the Nazis were coming to power. I was impressed that the atmosphere was perfect, down to the missing and mismatched lightbulbs around the second floor platform where the orchestra sat. Matt Welch and Katie Baad are credited with “original set conception” and deserve high marks for their vision.

The chorus girls, in wonderfully decadent costumes designed by Alexandra Bergere were wandering around on stage prior to the start of the show and it added to the ambience before the lights ever went down.

(Someone should tell whoever printed the programs, however, that while purple is a nice paper color, when you try to read black letters on purple in a dimly lit theater, it just doesn’t work!)

The show’s real problems started with the overture.

I tried to decide how to handle this, and decided not to point fingers because, in truth, with the exception of Rouhani there was not ONE principal who managed to make it through a song without hitting at least a few sour notes, some tried several different keys before settling on one which matched the orchestra, and there was at least one song which was so bad that I don’t think the singer hit one note right throughout. The last two notes of the show caused me to visibly wince.

I am puzzled by why this is because it is obvious that each of the performers has strong vocal talent. I don’t know if having the orchestra seated above them was the reason, or if the fact that the orchestra was out of tune as often as the singers was to blame. But for whatever reason, this is a show with very strong music and vocal problems.

Alas, vocal problems are not the only ones. The decision to cast a woman (Jacquie Pospisil) as the Emcee was a curious one. Pospisil is a good actress and has a good voice, but the role is written for a man and the lines were not changed to indicate that the character was female, yet Pospisil was costumed decidedly feminine, which made the number “Two Ladies,” with Pospisil as the “man” and one of the chorus men as one of the “ladies” distinctly odd.

But the show’s choreography (for actors who aren’t primarily dancers) by Tori Terrell-Carazo was fine.

Jennifer Nelson was Sally Bowles and is obviously a fine actress, but can’t quite carry off the degree of decadence that makes us understand Sally’s Bohemian lifestyle.

Drew Phillips is Cliff Bradshaw. Phillips is another fine actor whom I have seen in other productions, but in this production, we don’t get believability in his sexual orientation. Is he gay? Is he straight? Is he bisexual? Is he sexual at all? There’s not a lot of chemistry between Cliff and Sally.

Another directing oversight has Cliff packing Sally’s clothes into a suitcase, which he then takes with him as he leaves Berlin.

Studio 301 is a student run and funded club, independent from the university’s Theater and Dance Department. Last year’s “Into the Woods” was a promising entree into the world of musicals for the fledgling group. Unfortunately, its second attempt is less so.

Chicago

Murder, greed, corruption, violence, exploitation, adultery, and treachery have come to Sacramento and it all takes place across the street from the capitol. I’m sure there is a joke in there somewhere.

Razzling and dazzling the opening night audience, John Kander and Fred Ebb’s Tony award winning musical, “Chicago” returned to The Broadway Series at the Sacramento Community Theater for a limited two-week engagement.

“Chicago” points the finger at this country’s perennial fascination with bad boys (and girls) and our raising them to near cult status, as we salivate over every gory detail, the more salacious the better. Think Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, O.J. Simpson.

This musical is based on actual events during the 1920s, when reporter Maurine Dallas Watkins reported on the trial of a young woman (Beaulah Annan, “the prettiest murderess”) who killed her boyfriend and then called her husband to tell him, as a popular fox trot record played in the background. As Beaulah sat awaiting trial, she announced that she was pregnant, prompting the headling, “Beaulah Annan Awaits Stork, Murder Trial.”

Years later, William Wellman turned the story into a satirical movie called “Roxie Hart,” starring Ginger Rogers, in which the heroine, to kick-start her show business career, confesses to a Chicago murder. Funny man Phil Silvers played her lawyer.

This movie was the inspiration for choreographer Bob Fosse’s collaboration with Kander and Ebb to produce “Chicago, the Musical,” which opened on Broadway in 1975, with Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera as the the two jailbirds competing for publicity for their respective crimes. The show closed after a two year run, unable to compete with “A Chorus Line,” but was brought back again in 1996, under the direction of Walter Bobbie with choreography by Ann Reinking (in the style of Bob Fosse) when it won 6 Tony Awards, Drama Critics Circle Awards, Astaire Awards, Olivier Awards, Helpman Awards and a Grammy for best cast recording (among many other accolades). The 2003 movie won the Academy Award for best picture.

The appeal of this show is something that is impossible to capture on film with quite the same energy or excitement. Watching large clumps of people executing complex dance steps and making it look effortless is an experience not to be missed.

As Velma and Roxie, Terra C. MacLeod and Michelle DeJean are superb. In each there are echoes of Verdon and Rivera, and I found myself understanding that Fosse had these two specific women in mind when he originally choreographed this show, the moves seeming to be unique to each character, but specific to the style of dancer.

Greg Evigan is marvelous as the smooth, charming, yet slick lawyer, Billy Flynn, who knows how to work the press and, for a price, make his clients such sympathetic figures that no jury would convict them. Billy’s “All I Care About,” performed with several chorus girls armed with fans that would do credit to Sally Rand, is a knock out.

Carol Woods brings down the house with Matron “Mama” Morton’s “When You’re Good to Mama.” She’s a real powerhouse who received the biggest ovation at the end of the evening.

Roxie’s long-suffering husband, Amos Hart, the man who loves his wife no matter what, was given the appropriate downtrodden characterization by Kevin Carolan, but he has his moment to shine as he sings “Mr. Cellophane,” and shine he does.

There are marvelous ensemble numbers in this piece, which rely as much on choreography as they do on lyrics. The “Cell Block Tango,” where each woman explains how she happened to kill her husband/lover is marvelous, and “We Both Reached for the Gun,” where Billie coaches Roxie in how to give her court testimony are both outstanding.

Scenic design for this show is by John Lee Beatty, who places the orchestra center stage, with character entrances and exits over, under, around and through the orchestra box. Dramatic lighting is provided by Ken Billington and the costumes, elegant yet decadent, are by William Ivey Long.

Chicago is one of those musicals that will have you clapping enthusiastically, and then leaving the theater humming “All that Jazz,” and what more could one want from an evening’s entertainment?