Classic Movie Review: Cabaret
By Josh Spiegel
May 16, 2011
BoxOfficeProphets.com

Wilkommen, bienvenue.

There was a seismic shift in how musicals were presented to audiences, both on Broadway and on film, in the 1960s and 1970s. The typical musical structure that we’re familiar with had become old hat — people just randomly breaking into song in the middle of a story because they feel a song coming on seemed a bit too stuffy, a bit too traditional, and just a bit too silly. Various composers and directors, people like Stephen Sondheim and Harold Prince, among others, would help Broadway attempt to break out of its tradition before it became obsolete to modern masses. These days, seeing a musical where the singing and dancing takes place in a far more detached state of mind is equally common as watching characters just burst out into a tune, but we’ve suspended our disbelief enough so it doesn’t just seem ridiculous all the time.

One of the first Broadway-to-Hollywood adaptations to break out of the old mold was 1972’s Cabaret, directed by Bob Fosse, who’d ridden out the transition from old to new, having been involved in plenty of memorable old-fashioned musicals along with some shows that shocked out audiences out of their stupor. If you’re a non-musical-loving film buff, you may know Cabaret as the movie that took on The Godfather at the Oscars and nearly won. In one of the most notable categories — Best Director — Cabaret beat The Godfather, with Fosse beating out Francis Ford Coppola for the honor. Moreover, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences was far kinder to Cabaret, awarding it eight Oscars, also including trophies for Liza Minnelli, Joel Grey, and the film’s editing.

Of course, to compare Cabaret to The Godfather is insane, as the two movies share very few similarities, not just because they’re from different genres. What Cabaret does offer is almost an anti-musical. If you loathe the old-fashioned Broadway musical, give Cabaret a chance. Only one song in the entire film takes place outside of the Kit Kat Klub, the titular cabaret where Sally Bowles (Minnelli) and the odious Master of Ceremonies (Grey) make their money. The movie is something of a character study, but it’s also interested in watching the onslaught of the Nazi movement arise in Berlin, circa 1931. We watch Sally’s life change as does the Kit Kat Klub throughout the year. The songs that occur are those where Sally performs for the gritty and freakish cabaret audience, and are few and far between. Honestly, you may well have heard the two most memorable songs from the musical, and one comes at the very beginning.

I was left a bit cold by Cabaret, which didn’t surprise me, truth be told. While I’m always impressed with Bob Fosse’s iconic choreography, the music of Kander and Ebb, best known for their work in Cabaret and Chicago, doesn’t always equal the stories told around the compositions. The film version of Chicago has a lot of problems, in my opinion, but the biggest problems boil down to this: although I don’t often rail against movies, TV shows, books, or musicals with no likable characters, I’m just unable to root for anyone in Chicago. The same goes for Cabaret. The characters are off-putting and charmless, the setting is appropriately but unwelcomingly bleak, and there’s not enough music to wait for in between the harsh, stark and strange sexually charged story. Minnelli and Grey are, admittedly, really quite good in the movie, and their musical numbers are notable high points, but there aren’t enough of them.

What’s most interesting is that the movie version of Cabaret is very, very different from the stage version, which has seven more songs, several more characters and even more subplots that were axed for the silver screen. The film version is specifically about how Sally Bowles falls in love with one young man, and the rich German who comes in between them when they have relationship problems. Bowles is a dreamer, an upbeat singer and dancer who wants to become a star, so when she gets pregnant, complications arise. Suffice to say, Cabaret is not a musical with a happy ending, leaving us in the Kit Kat Klub with Sally and the Master of Ceremonies as they’re surrounded by an audience that is filled with more Nazis than anyone else. It’s still 1931 at the end of the film, so we all know that it’s not getting any better for them.

What’s left to marvel at in Cabaret are those aforementioned performances from Minnelli and Grey. While there are other actors in the film, not even Michael York as Sally’s lover, Brian, makes much of a dent. Even back in 1972, when she was still breaking out of the mold of being Judy Garland’s daughter, Minnelli was a bright, shining star. She’s had a long, fascinating roller coaster of a career (I can only imagine the look on her face had anyone told her after winning her Oscar that, roughly 30 years down the line, she’d be guest-starring as a vertigo-ridden old lady on a surreal TV comedy), but she’s as charming and winning as her mother was in her musicals, despite the grim subject matter and content. Sally Bowles, as portrayed by Minnelli, is flighty, bright, brash, and completely individualistic.

Grey is equally stunning, reprising the role he originated on Broadway (which won him a Tony). The Master of Ceremonies, unlike Bowles, has a lot less to do, but it’s an incredibly flashy role that Grey sinks his teeth into. From the opening number, “Wilkommen,” to the final, purposely gaudy yet undeniably haunting final image, Grey is something of the glue that holds the movie together, as opposed to just falling apart completely. Cabaret is full of flaws, but I figure that without these two performances, it wouldn’t even be remembered these days. There’s something to be said for the full force of star power, on display here in these two diametrically different roles.

Another noteworthy moment that’s almost absolutely separate from the rest of the movie is the sole song that doesn’t get performed in the Kit Kat Klub, “Tomorrow Belongs to Me,” sung by a cheery young man with a clear, solid voice, all the more appropriate as it functions as a forceful call to arms for the patrons of a local beer garden, as Sally, Brian, and the third man in their relationship, Max, watch in growing fear. The song is, typical for Kander and Ebb, deliberately sneaky and sardonic while seeming uncynical on the surface. Cabaret wants to be equally so, but its twisted love story just never gels as well as it should; if Minnelli’s romantic partners were similarly fascinating characters (or were performed as well), the movie would be, for me, an instant classic. As it stands, I can kind of understand the lovefest surrounding the movie, but can only join in regarding Sally Bowles and the Master of Ceremonies.