There is an allure to Cabaret that is made present almost immediately as Emcee (Jeff Skowron) sings the opening line to "Wilkommen" not to someone on stage, but to the audience before him. In spite of this production being a self-contained narrative, there's a sense that the audience is leering in much like the various dancers who crowd the sides of the stage as Sally Bowles (Zarah Mahler) falls in love with "world famous author" Cliff Bradhsaw (Christian Pedersen). It's an element that is one of many things that blur in La Mirada Theater's production of the Bob Fosse masterpiece. It isn't just a show that breaks the fourth wall, but also blurs the harsh realities of Germany during World War II with the carefree attitude of artists putting on campy performances. However, there's more than distraction at play here. It's a musical about how art is valuable in times of trouble. It's also one of the most lively, entertaining, catchiest shows currently out there.
Before the show begins, Emcee has a simple request: leave your troubles outside. It's a line that will become ironic by the second act, as the drama onstage shifts from the carefree attitude of burlesque dancers in bawdy and androgynous make-up hooking up with local patrons, to a more troubling dilemma. This is Nazi Germany, and the first act does little to differentiate them from the Jews that they come to oppress. The conflict instead focuses largely on Bowles, who wishes to form a new life outside the Kit Kat Klub but finds the thrill of performance far more thrilling than what she finds. Even as she's structured as the lead performance, her story feels like the reality to Emcee's fiction. When the performance breaks to songs, it's usually Emcee and various Kit Kat Klub dancers joyfully bantering on stage as an orchestra plays big band melodies. It's the art commenting on the scene, and it's often humorous and campy in ways made more impressive because of how it fails to undermine the building drama.
It's because the early drama is in some ways underlined with a camp. Almost every supporting player wears flamboyant outfits and has a winking gender fluidity. It's the type of story that seems bold, especially for the mid-1930's, but gets enough of a reverence to make playful numbers like "Don't Tell Mama" feel crucial to the plot. These are outsiders wishing to please their audience. In that way, Emcee's occasional choice to directly address the audience transcends gimmickry and becomes something more incredible. While "Two Ladies" is a campy romp about a man with two girlfriends, it captures the carefree attitude of Bowles, who comes to symbolize the changing tide in German social behaviors. The thrill of not caring dwindles as things become more dire, but as the old expression goes: the show must go on.
If nothing else, Cabaret is one of the funnest World War II musicals ever created (and among the more risque too). The set alone does something that Fosse's film version couldn't: it treats the stage as a place of magic. The dancers sit to the side of the stage, watching from tables as the drama plays out. It feels like a scene of improv where a single buzzword could throw the production into a song. As sets are changed, Emcee finds ways to entertain like a ringleader as the darkness hides "the reality" of the story. He is, after all, there to remove the audiences' troubles with song and dance. Still, the theme of his music focuses on the troubles of the plot, including economic ("Money"), and lingering Nazi threat ("Tomorrow Belongs to Me"). Depending on how much spectacle you like, it succeeds with dazzling physicality and dancers whose moves mix sexuality with a winking innocence. Even the beautiful orchestra is dressed up and gets moments to show off their great technique.
It's a story that transcends easy categorization. As fun as the first act is, the second becomes more dramatic, reflecting a deeper and hurting core of the singers. The fluttering power of Emcee feels punctured as he notices the world change. He begins to wonder what the value of art is, and if it is even valuable. Sally gives the standard, heart-rendering rendition of "Cabaret" that summarizes the themes best. It's a show that's dark at times, but always finds optimism in the struggles. It's part of the overall charm, which is complimented by the drama that shows a maturing Sally dealing with Cliff's conflicting lifestyle. As a whole, it's evidence that theater can be campy (even sexual) and still resonate on a deeper level. A song about a man dancing with a gorilla ("If You Could See Her") can have a deeper political text while still being a humorous sight. It captures, in a nutshell, the power of art.
La Mirada Theater's production of Cabaret is an impressive adaptation of the Fosse musical in large part because of its dedicated cast. Their ability to gleefully throw themselves into the silly yet physical dance numbers as the orchestra plays a fun little ditty creates an infectious group of songs. It also helps that the story is so cleverly written that it balances complicated themes in a way that seems as carefree as its central cast. The show isn't about experiencing troubles, but understanding that art sometimes comes from pain. It's why the ability to blur the stage with the audience at times creates a sense that the world that has been seen for 2.5 hours is one that's shared by everyone in this room. Can a show this fun really tell a story this sad? Yes, it can. Thanks to characters like Emcee and Sally, it may be tough to see something this cheeky ever again and not have some affection for the artist behind the goofy gestures.
If nothing else, Cabaret is one of the funnest World War II musicals ever created (and among the more risque too). The set alone does something that Fosse's film version couldn't: it treats the stage as a place of magic. The dancers sit to the side of the stage, watching from tables as the drama plays out. It feels like a scene of improv where a single buzzword could throw the production into a song. As sets are changed, Emcee finds ways to entertain like a ringleader as the darkness hides "the reality" of the story. He is, after all, there to remove the audiences' troubles with song and dance. Still, the theme of his music focuses on the troubles of the plot, including economic ("Money"), and lingering Nazi threat ("Tomorrow Belongs to Me"). Depending on how much spectacle you like, it succeeds with dazzling physicality and dancers whose moves mix sexuality with a winking innocence. Even the beautiful orchestra is dressed up and gets moments to show off their great technique.
It's a story that transcends easy categorization. As fun as the first act is, the second becomes more dramatic, reflecting a deeper and hurting core of the singers. The fluttering power of Emcee feels punctured as he notices the world change. He begins to wonder what the value of art is, and if it is even valuable. Sally gives the standard, heart-rendering rendition of "Cabaret" that summarizes the themes best. It's a show that's dark at times, but always finds optimism in the struggles. It's part of the overall charm, which is complimented by the drama that shows a maturing Sally dealing with Cliff's conflicting lifestyle. As a whole, it's evidence that theater can be campy (even sexual) and still resonate on a deeper level. A song about a man dancing with a gorilla ("If You Could See Her") can have a deeper political text while still being a humorous sight. It captures, in a nutshell, the power of art.
La Mirada Theater's production of Cabaret is an impressive adaptation of the Fosse musical in large part because of its dedicated cast. Their ability to gleefully throw themselves into the silly yet physical dance numbers as the orchestra plays a fun little ditty creates an infectious group of songs. It also helps that the story is so cleverly written that it balances complicated themes in a way that seems as carefree as its central cast. The show isn't about experiencing troubles, but understanding that art sometimes comes from pain. It's why the ability to blur the stage with the audience at times creates a sense that the world that has been seen for 2.5 hours is one that's shared by everyone in this room. Can a show this fun really tell a story this sad? Yes, it can. Thanks to characters like Emcee and Sally, it may be tough to see something this cheeky ever again and not have some affection for the artist behind the goofy gestures.
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