Classic Films · Musicals

Cabaret

Image: Cabaret, 1972

Every June, July, and August, The Paramount Theatre in Austin, TX does three months of revival programming and cranks their air conditioning down. Waaaaaaay down. Just like a rouged Joel Grey and his beautiful orchestra, my Summer Classic Film Series went out on a high note with 1972’s Cabaret (Disc/Download). A perfect finale to a season of stellar cinema, this musical masterpiece mirrors the joy and inclusivity of my favorite movie theater, as well as the frighting world outside its doors.

I’m a big fan of Bob Fosse as film director, and his trademark elements of sexy dance numbers, quick editing, and dreamy cinematography are a perfect match for this tale of the final hedonistic days of the Weimar Republic. Part of what makes Cabaret so emotionally engaging is that the audience understands what’s coming, even when the characters don’t. We know the slow creep of fascism is headed for Berlin, just as we know the days of public and private freedoms are numbered. Cabaret is proof that there have always been people who don’t conform to the traditional ideas of gender and sexuality, there have always been artists and intellectuals who push boundaries, and they will continue to exist, no matter how hard the intolerant try to erase them.

In the care of Fosse, this film often feels like a hallucination. Joel Grey floats through Berlin’s Kit Kat Klub like a nimble sprite welcoming us to the land of “anything goes”. Liza Minnelli as Sally Bowles sings her heart out, staring off into her own version of Oz, allowing the audience to feel like part of this hopeful dream. Let’s toast this magical place with a cocktail similar to one I enjoyed at the Paramount, the Poet’s Dream.

Poet’s Dream

1 oz Gin

1 oz Dry Vermouth

½ oz Bénédictine

2 dashes Orange Bitters

Lemon twist

Combine gin, vermouth, Bénédictine, and bitters in a shaker with ice. Stir to chill, then strain into a Nick & Nora glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

Like its twenty-first century audience, the characters of Cabaret all seem to be hurtling toward a violent, uncertain end. We don’t know what will become of Sally, the Master of Ceremonies, and the Kit Kat Klub. We don’t know if Brian will be safe in England once the bombing starts. We don’t know if Fritz and Natalia will be sent to a concentration camp. And maybe that’s why Cabaret feels like such an essential film for these times. It’s a rallying cry to live it up while we can because nobody knows what the future holds. Cheers!

Musicals

All That Jazz

Image credit: All That Jazz, 1979

I don’t know what it is about my personality that makes me compatible with people who love musical theater, but somehow, the universe keeps throwing them my way. I’m left smiling awkwardly when my new friends gush about Hamilton, or the latest Funny Girl revival, pretending the very notion of a live song-and-dance routine doesn’t make me shudder internally. However, there’s one thing that helps me cross the entertainment chasm, and that’s movies about live theater. Now those, I love!! From The Goodbye Girl to Waiting for Guffman to Center Stage, to this week’s Cinema Sips pick All That Jazz (Disc), I can’t get enough backstage drama and tights. Finally, common ground with the Playbill crowd!

I love a good “puttin’ on a show” plot as much as the next person, but All That Jazz takes the trope to a new and exciting level. In this gritty, sexy, Dexedrine-fueled world of stage and screen, director/choreographer Joe Gideon (Roy Scheider) struggles to balance his turbulent love life, a new Broadway show, and feature film editing without dropping dead of a heart attack. The fact that he’s seen talking to the Angel of Death (played by a luminous Jessica Lange) in various dream sequences tells us he’s already on his way. This semi-autobiographical film from director/choreographer Bob Fosse asks us to consider how much can be piled on a person’s plate before they collapse under the weight of responsibility. This movie gets me thinking a lot about the inevitability of death, and how we humans have to balance making the most of our time here while ensuring we have that time in the first place. Joe slogs along, shooting that Visine in his eyes, taking that morning shower, popping that pill, announcing “It’s showtime, folks!” because to do the alternative is unthinkable. His body will give up before his mind or his will, and rest comes only to the dead.

Leave it to Joe Gideon to imagine that Death comes in the form of a beautiful woman in a nightclub. I’m still not sure about the frothy white getup she’s wearing (I might have opted for something more “Halston”), but I’m willing to go along with the surrealist costume because it inspires this week’s cocktail. While watching All That Jazz, I recommend drinking a classic White Lady.

White Lady

2 oz Plymouth gin

½ oz Cointreau

¾ oz lemon juice

¼ oz simple syrup

1 egg white

Combine all ingredients in a shaker without ice. Dry shake for about thirty seconds, add ice, then shake again for an additional thirty seconds. Strain into a chilled coupe glass, and garnish with a lemon twist.

In case I haven’t fully sold this movie yet, All That Jazz’s fictional play NY/LA has one of the sexiest dance sequences ever committed to film. A big part of that is the lighting and cinematography, and frankly, I just don’t see it working from the cheap seats in the back. The camera enables us to be up close and personal with these bodies, both strong and fragile at the same time, putting it all into perspective. There’s no business like show business to make you realize that every day you’re still alive, putting on that performance, is a miracle. Cheers!