BROADWAY RECALL: CHICAGO Finds Its Audience

Welcome to BROADWAY RECALL, a bi-monthly column where BroadwayWorld.com's Chief Theatre Critic, Michael Dale, delves into the archives and explores the stories behind the well-known and the not so well-known videos and photographs of Broadway's past. Look for BROADWAY RECALL every other Saturday.

Back in January of 2007, Richard Ridge and Broadway Beat celebrated the 10^th Anniversary of the Broadway revival of Chicago.  It was an achievement no one could have expected when Walter Bobbie first staged the show as a weekend reading at Encores! staring Ann Reinking (whose choreography was billed as "in the style of Bob Fosse"), Bebe Neuwirth, James Naughton and Joel Grey.  Especially when you consider that, despite the presence of Gwen Verdon, Chita Rivera and Jerry Orbach, the original production was only a moderate hit, closing after a little more than two years and picking up no Tony Awards.

(CLICK THIS PHOTO TO PLAY THE VIDEO!)

On Saturday afternoon, August 27^th, that revival will chalk up its 6,138^th performance, surpassing A Chorus Line as Broadway's longest running American musical.  Sure, there are three Broadway productions higher on the list of total performances - Les Miserables, Cats and the still-running Phantom of the Opera - but the distinction of Chicago being an American musical is a significant one.

The three top-ranking shows, all transferring to New York during an era Times Square denizens refer to as "The British Invasion," are styled more after European music/theatre traditions.  Les Mis and Phantom, composed through with limited occasions for dialogue, humor and dance, resemble a fusion of grand opera with pop rock vocals.  Cats, having an immediate resemblance to Hair with its thin story and tribe-like company singing character-defining songs, nevertheless owes more to contemporary dance and the softer pop sound coming out of Europe in the early 80s.

Chicago, on the other hand, sports direct links to the musical comedies of George M. Cohan, generally cited as the shows that solidified a definition of American musical theatre; not just because they were written by Americans and premiered on Broadway, but because of the qualities that were emerging one hundred years ago as New York's waves of immigrants began melting their theatrical styles into a form that featured comical book scenes, extended dance sequences, a less refined way of singing and a presentational manner of performance that reached out and grabbed the audience.

I was 16 when I attended the original production of Chicago on a school trip.  Though Chita Rivera and Gwen Verdon had by then been replaced by Lenora Nemetz and a 26-year-old Ann Reinking, I still enjoyed their work and that of original cast members Jerry Orbach, Barney Martin, Mary McCarty and M. O'Haughey.  And thanks to my older brother Dan, a hippie who loved musical theatre, I was familiar with the show's Brechtian style from numerous hearings of his Threepenny Opera album.  But I wasn't aware of the crazy history that preceded that matinee I attended and the unexpected developments to come.

Chicago was originally the name of a straight play by Maurine Dallas Watkins (pictured) that opened on Broadway in December of 1926.  A first time playwright, Watkins was a crime reporter for the Chicago Tribune, who based her comedy on the sensational murder trials of young flapper Beulah Annan and cabaret singer Belva Gaertner, each of whom were found not guilty thanks to the theatrics of their lawyers.  Cecil B. DeMille made a silent feature of the play in 1927 and in 1942 Ginger Rogers took on the title role in the popular film, Roxie Hart.  But for Hollywood, it had to be made clear that Roxie was actually innocent of any wrongdoing.

After seeing the movie and reading the play Gwen Verdon was convinced that Roxie Hart would be a perfect musical role for her to play under the guidance of Bob Fosse.  But when she tried to get the rights she discovered that Watkins had found religion and had denounced her play as being sinful.  Not only was she already refusing any requests for performance rights, but she was paying her representatives $500 a year not to have it produced.   She was certainly not going to allow anyone to turn it into a Broadway musical.

But when the playwright passed away, her estate was happy to oblige.

Fosse would write the book as a collaboration with Fred Ebb, who would pen the lyrics for his composing partner John Kander.  The musical would tell the story in the guise of a vaudeville show, with each song representing a well-known performer or type of act.  But when Fosse nearly suffered a heart attack during the first week of rehearsals and had to undergo open heart surgery, the production was postponed until the next season.

Those who were close to him say that Bob Fosse emerged from that heart episode a changed man.  His artistic view was always shaded a bit on the dark side but with Chicago he was now ready to go for America's jugular.  The word "Brechtian" started making its way into rehearsals and songs began being staged as commentaries on the action.  He tried choreographing an on-stage orgy while Orbach sang "Razzle Dazzle."  He had his two female stars underdressed in garish outfits, playing aging women who had spent their lives using sex for survival, now desperately clinging to whatever sex appeal they had left.  And while the evening was undoubtedly entertaining, the message clearly coming through was that it was laughable for Americans to complain about a corrupt system since it was our hunger for dirt that was helping it flourish.  Below is rehearsal footage from 1975, including scenes that were eventually cut:

 

When Chicago opened in June of 1975 the country was still licking its wounds from the Watergate scandal and an inconclusive exit from Vietnam.  Soon, a farmer from Georgia would be lifting our spirits with a homespun optimism that would eventually be voiced by a little red-headed Broadway orphan.  Chicago may have been slick, professional, funny, tuneful and entertaining, but it was not delivering the message most playgoers wanted to hear.  That message was heard when A Chorus Line moved to Broadway the next month, reassuring customers that if you worked really hard and believed in yourself, your dreams just might come true.  And if they don't, that's okay because you're doing it for love.

And then something happened.  One afternoon, Americans found themselves glued to their television sets watching the strangest thing; former football star O.J. Simpson involved in a low-speed car chase along a California highway, concluding when he pulled into his mother's driveway, gave her a hug, and was arrested for a double homicide.  And then came the trial... and the verdict... and America had found its dark cynical edge again.

So when the Encores! concert version of Chicago made the piece seem timely as ever in May of '96, it was because the audience was now in on the joke.  Heavy Brechtian concepts were no longer needed so they were replaced with an attractive chorus of scantily clad men and women, happy to show off their muscles and curves as they reintroduced us to the one of the cleverest and most theatrical scores of the past twenty years.

Some complain that the scaled-down concert revival can't match the brilliance of Fosse's high-concept original.  Some say that producer Barry Weissler's practice of bringing in big-name celebrities with little or no musical theatre experience, but whose names can send jolts through the box office, disrespects the Fosse legacy, especially when they're given simplified choreography to do.  But then, Mr. Fosse (pictured), wherever he is, may just shrug his shoulder and croon a bit of the ol' song that goes, "Razzle Dazzle 'em, and they'll never catch wise."

Click here to follow Michael Dale on Twitter.

Click here for Michael Dale's Twitterized theatre reviews.