If you’re looking for a greasy, sleazy show, set in the 1920s and peppered with lust, greed and murder, “Chicago” is generally your best bet. Phoenix Theatre’s take on the musical falls a little short of these promises, however, opting often for an over-the-top “showbiz” reading that relies on gags to make its point.
One could assert that the extravagant nature of the show, whose characters at times felt to me like caricatures, is a commentary on show business itself. Even if that interpretation is accurate, it doesn’t work for everyone, leaving some characters feeling one-dimensional or underdeveloped.
This issue arose with the main character, Roxie Hart, played by Kate E. Cook. It’s always a concern when the central character in a story doesn’t feel fleshed out enough, and Roxie simply didn’t seem to truly believe in her own actions.
As a story that centers on vice, “Chicago” deals with a set of deviant characters. Roxie is, at heart, greedy, selfish and manipulative, but what makes Roxie more than just a pale reflection that illuminates the often more outwardly interesting and likable character of Velma Kelly is how Roxie justifies to herself those feelings and actions. In this show, she seemed to simply be acting — with desire, perhaps, but without true motivation.
I ultimately came to the conclusion that I did not feel compelled to any real emotion by the show. I walked out feeling the same as I walked in — and with my love for “Chicago,” my hope was to walk out feeling pretty greasy and a little disgusted.
Even the emotional line “Chicago” should tap into, the pathetic, sad character of Amos Hart — Roxie’s husband, played by Brian Runbeck — ran dry for me. Amos is a run-of-the-mill man, if a bit naive, who genuinely cares for and is constantly taken advantage of by his wife. The character is heartbreaking as you watch him get thrown away and ignored time after time. Yet in this reading, his sad-sack act made him feel more like an exaggeration than a character worth connecting to.
That said, there were strong characters who did command the stage. Velma, played by Jenny Hintze, displayed a range of emotions and motivations — and she also held a strong vocal presence throughout the entire intensive choreography of “All that Jazz,” the opening song of the show. Terey Summers, who played Mama Morton, also developed a dynamic and believable character.
The issues I faced with characterization were what left me feeling unfulfilled when I filed out of the theater after the closing number. But one scene in particular faced some greater concerns that I think are necessary and important to address.
The scene comes as lawyer Billy Flynn, played by Walter Belcher, gives his closing statement to a sympathetic jury in hopes of freeing Roxie. The scene was played as a gospel sermon and seemed to emulate a stereotypical black church — which was not just cringeworthy but also problematic, as Belcher was the only black actor on stage.
Developing an image of a stereotypical black church around the one black actor in the production is problematic enough. Then appropriating that image, which is distinctly tied to black culture whether or not it is stereotypical, to a non-black group — in this case, the ostensible jury and viewers — is patently offensive.
The scene culminates in Flynn revealing Mary Sunshine, a reporter played by L. Mitchell who has up until that point been presented as a woman, to be a man beneath her wig and dress. While these moments may be canon in the story of “Chicago,” they are unnecessary and make light of serious race and trans issues that deserve more honest and thoughtful treatment in the present day.
Art can certainly address problematic issues and sometimes must do that in problematic ways in order to engage them honestly. However, the perpetuation of stereotypes and boiling down of trans issues to “things are not always as they seem,” as occurs in this reading of “Chicago,” does not promote honest engagement with important issues; rather, it makes jokes out of them for a cheap laugh.
I doubt Phoenix Theatre’s intent was to be offensive. While that does not excuse the nature of this scene, I do want to recognize that there may have been a lapse in attentiveness and hope to encourage Phoenix Theatre to consider with great thoughtfulness the decisions they make in these areas in the future.
There were elements of the show with great merit; all the technical aspects, from excellent vocals all around to clean, beautiful choreography by Sam Hay, were beautifully done. The set design by Joel Birch was rich and intricate, and the costuming by Cari Smith deeply evoked the 1920s jazz scene.
There is no doubt that the Phoenix Theatre reading of “Chicago” could have felt a little greasier, a little sleazier, a little more believable. Musically and visually, it was stunning — it is in its interpretation of the story and characters that the presentation begins to fall flat.
Rating (out of four stars): ★★
Contact the columnist at molly.bilker@asu.edu
