Hollywood's latest attempt to revive the movie musical is Chicago, a slick adaptation of Bob Fosse's 1975 Broadway show about jazz-era singers and scandals. (That's right -- it's a 21st century production of a 1970s musical about the 1920s!)

The story is a mildly amusing satire of the media and the justice system. Renee Zellweger plays Roxie, a wannabe singer/dancer who watches as her stage idol, Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones) becomes a tabloid sensation for murdering both her husband and sister after discovering they were having an affair. Roxie may not get to steal the nightclub spotlight from Velma, but ironically she does end up stealing the newspapers' attention when she too is arrested for murder (Roxie bumps-off a man who pretended to have showbiz connections in order to sleep with her). Soon, the homicidal pair are competing for the services of a handsome celebrity defense attorney (Richard Gere) who plays the media like Yo-Yo Ma plays a cello. But the plot isn't what matters here. The story is just something that happens between the musical numbers.

Thankfully, those musical numbers don't happen within the film's narrative body -- characters don't burst into song in the middle of a scene (always one of my pet peeves about musicals). Instead, the film flashes between "real" scenes and fantasy cabaret acts featuring the characters singing about their situations. In other words, they're showstoppers that literally stop the show.

While the production numbers are impressive, the music, unfortunately, isn't that memorable. While, Moulin Rouge benefited from using pop songs the audience already knew by heart, Chicago's songs aren't that catchy, and they're being sung by non-singers. Granted, Zellweger, Zeta-Jones and Gere don't embarrass themselves with their voices or their dancing, but there's a reason those talents are not what they're famous for. Their casting may have helped put big names on the posters, but it deprives us of much of the thrill of seeing great performers perform. Thankfully, one actual singer, Queen Latifah, is cast in a supporting role that allows her to show-off her multiple talents. Another supporting player also shines. John C. Reilly, as Roxie's dimwited but loving husband, Amos, becomes the movie's soul. His musical number, "Mr. Cellophane" is the film's most poignant and his Oscar nomination is well-deserved.
(c) Copyright 2003