Shrillago

Chicago is one of The Phantom’s favorite shows. (Let’s allow that to sink in for a moment.)

The Theater Company may not have appreciated their peril, but they were facing a tough audience in The Phantom. (This is always true, of course.) [Constantly wise and always astute, The Phantom brings dispassion and discernment to all of his audience experiences.] {But in this case he saw the movie, he bought the soundtrack, and he paid big bucks for his OPAS ticket.} <He likes the show.> But don’t fret, gentle reader. The Phantom did enjoy this particular production. Everybody can relax. Stop reading now if you wish. Your visit to this humble site has already been noted by the little counter that keeps track of these things.  All 60,000+ of them.

For the rest of you, soldier on. The Phantom promises this won’t be too painful. It might even be pleasant. That will depend on whether you, too, have taste and discernment.

Drum roll, please, maestro.

Ladies and gentleman, for your opening act, we give you the voluptuous Velma Kelly belting out “All That Jazz.”

The Phantom hasn’t seen this actress on stage in a long time. He is very happy to have her back. Her throaty, yet surprisingly smooth, voice set up our first scene nicely. From the facial expressions of those near The Phantom, trapped in seats near the orchestra, we were also all extremely pleased to have survived the musicians’ desperate effort to get through the overture. They seemed completely overmatched, and gave every indication of having received their scores that very afternoon. We later learned that the group contained several talented individuals—in particular, as soloists, they did nicely later in the show—but they hadn’t spent much time (or so it seemed) working on the difficult bits together.

The accompanying action of the murder of Fred Casely was blocked and choreographed well, and despite the orchestra’s desperation, The Phantom settled in for a pleasant afternoon. He was pleased to see a popular vagabond of the Valley’s community theaters playing the part of Fred, as he had read somewhere (oh, wait, it was on that silly Theater Without Pity blog) [and everyone knows that no sentient being should pay any credence to what he/she/it reads there] that Fred was leaving town. We were all glad that this was not the case because Fred nailed his minor role with all the panache that it deserved but that a lesser actor might have ignored. Like all good supporting players, he refused to steal focus from his leading lady, Roxie Hart.

And now Roxie Hart attempts to use the cacophony coming from the orchestra pit to enhance, rather than destroy, her “Funny Honey” number.

Roxie is another familiar face. And The Phantom wishes to note that he understands why these faces are familiar. It’s because these folks are really good. The Phantom was pleased to see Velma, Roxie and Billy in lead roles again. They have earned their top spots and we acknowledge them. Good for you, familiar faces.

However, despite his regard for these phine talents, The Phantom cannot and shall not shrink from his duty. The advertisers negotiating with The Phantom to take this site global insist that he occasionally tell the truth. And so The Phantom will add the minor quibble that Roxie was skinny. Not just thin. Skinny. Auschwitz skinny. Scary skinny. The Phantom is concerned. Eat something, Roxie. Please. Oh, and one other thing: Roxie’s performance was shrill and brittle. Her strident tones led The Phantom to sneak some of those special painkillers out of his dear mother’s purse. Happy anticipation that was based on this young lady’s wonderful turns in other productions turned, unfortunately, into disappointment as this show wore on. Roxie was, however, tremendous in Chicago’s best scene, “The Press Conference Rag.” The Phantom couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Clap, clap Roxie. (But take note: she didn’t say anything in that scene.)

And now dear audience, marvel at our phine supporting cast!

“Cell Block Tango” was great. Good job, cell block ladies. The Phantom is always amazed by the Hungarian woman and her performance here was no less remarkable. Props go out to this young lady for memorizing her part in a foreign language. It was most appreciated.

Oh, and The Phantom also approved of the sexy lingerie. (As The Phantom has expounded on such matters before, he will simply wipe the drool off his keyboard in this case and continue.)

Presenting Bill Flynn, the completely self-absorbed, king narcissist of the Broadway stage.

Wait. What’s this? Is Billy’s hat too big? No, his hat is resting on his ears! Heavens to Betsy, what has happened to his hair? What would possess him to do that to himself? The Phantom is entirely familiar with the tiresome burdens of handsomeness. The ceaseless attention of throngs of lusty supplicants can be bothersome. But Billy, dude, to shave your head and morph into Fish Flynn? At least the corps kids don’t have a choice. What’s your excuse?

And Bill, The Phantom thinks that you are loaded with talent, he thinks you have one of the best singing voices in the Valley and he reads on his own humble blog (no less) how “hot” you are, but being wise, astute, dispassionate, and discerning, he has to disagree (once again) with some of your acting choices in this production. (Uh, oh.) [Billy has allowed this insignificant, inconsequential {but apparently well-read} blogger to get his dander up before.] <Does The Phantom dare?> /Oh, he do.\ Resolved: Billy’s loud blustering at Roxie when she wanted to fire him was a poor choice for two reasons. First, this otherwise phine actor continues to mistake volume for emotional passion. Can we all pledge, please, to stop yelling at our fellow actors when we wish to appear to be experiencing strong emotion? Mr. Director, will you please instruct your actors to find other ways of showing us what they’re feeling? The Phantom is growing weary of all the yelling that is taking the place of actual acting on the Valley’s stages. Here, Billy’s yelling was misplaced and noisome. The Phantom’s second small quibble is that the yelling also implied a romantic concern for Roxie that was inappropriate for the character. Indifference towards the hapless Roxie was the correct emotion. Billy needed to care not at all for Roxie and her situation because Billy’s only true love is Billy. Just Billy. Period.

Nevertheless, dear phans, watch in amazement as some of the actors nail their parts!

Conversely, the award for “truest to her character” goes to Madam Morton, who provided us wonderful singing and terrific acting. The Phantom has nothing but claps for this performance—no quibbles here—and the number “Class” that the Madam shared with Velma was the best scene in the show.

For your viewing pleasure: the Most Sympathetic Character ever.

Even The Phantom’s tiny, crusty (but discerning) heart goes out to Amos. Every time he hears “Mr. Cellophane,” he feels a miniscule tug. Who couldn’t feel sorry for the hapless and hopeless Amos Hart? He’s like a Labrador that gets the milk bone yanked out of reach time and again. This young Amos did a fine job with the role, despite the reprise of the male strip act which, instead of being funny, was a little painful to watch. The Phantom also worried that Amos was doing a “voice” that was entirely unnecessary. Amos didn’t need to do an accent. He would have been stronger without it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, give it up for Velma one more time in her own paragraph.

She was perfect. Sexy, and rough, just the way The Phantom likes his Velmas. We liked Velma. More Velma, please.

And now an act of incredible daring and death-defying thrills.

Costuming. (Are you phaithful phans surprised?)

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the costumes in this production took traditional Fosse-esque black and white and turned 180 degrees to fill the stage with color in several scenes. The Phantom is a traditional sort of fellow, and he was prepared to jump all over this choice with the wrath of a thousand jungle queens. Color don’t go with Fosse and Chicago! But The Phantom is always fair as well as discerning, and gol ‘dern it, it worked. The lusciously red chorus of beautiful babelicious babes was wonderful. The circus performers in “Razzle Dazzle” were a visual feast. (Ok, a visual square meal. But delicious, anyway. )

The final scene of our larcenous ladies in their vaudeville show sputtered instead of sizzled, but The Phantom is sure they were tired. He was. It was a looooong show, but overall, the audience had a good time.

Other than that, it was great.

The Phantom