“Cabaret” (1972)

Cabaret

Grade: A

Wilkommen. Bienvenue. Welcome. Based on the 1966 stage musical of the same name, which was based on a 1951 play, which was based on a 1939 novel, the 1972 Cabaret film is strange and stirring all at once; a musical that transcends its campiness with a moving, emotional storyline.

Directing:

Famed choreographer Bob Fosse directs Cabaret, so it’s no surprise that the musical numbers are well-schemed, well-performed and well-shot. But it’s his attention to detail outside the Kit Kat Klub that is truly stunning: he captures the subtle rise of the Weimar Republic and the day-to-day lives of transplanted bohemians in Berlin with grace, subtlety and impeccable realism. Combined with Geoffrey Unsworth’s illuminative cinematography, Cabaret feels like we’re spying on a world we shouldn’t be seeing, a dream that is slowly and surely dissipating.

Acting:

Liza Minelli is the perfect actress to play eccentric free spirit Sally Bowles. Her singing is strong and her stage presence is even stronger, and her charming proto-manic-pixie-dream-girl energy allows us to forgive Sally’s inherent obliviousness. Michael York is a perfect counter — the gay lover who plays it straight. And Joel Grey is a delight as the impish Master of Ceremonies, frightening and alluring, fittingly the first and last face we see in the film.

Writing:

In Cabaret, all the songs are diegetic, which foregoes traditional Hollywood musical tradition. The actual action takes place away from the Kit Kat Klub, where Sally and Brian (York) try to make sense of their emotions while the ominous threat of Nazi Germany infiltrates their daily lives. It’s a brilliant character study, with the musical numbers being an added bonus rather than the main attraction. As a result, Cabaret continues to age incredible well, especially when compared to our own turbulent times, offering a unique look at a timeless genre.

Music:

Whether you’re a fan of androgynous vaudeville or not, the conviction of the singers/dancers will win you over. Sure, some lyrics lack subtlety (“She wouldn’t look Jewish at all” is quite obvious), but the surreal, theatrical performances are so engrossing that any songwriting flaws are excusable.

Ending (SPOILERS):

Cabaret is a subtle tragedy that eventually devolves into an unshakeable reality: Sally’s bohemian way of life will soon be overtaken by inhumane terror. And that’s why it’s so heartbreaking to see her remain detached during her powerful final song — the best number in the movie — when she steadfastly proclaims that “Life is a Cabaret, old chum!” and subconsciously resigns herself to her fate. While an audience of Nazis sit in the audience, the end credits roll in eerie silence.

For all Cabaret‘s harmless whimsy, the magnificent ending is a tragic, poignant note to close on. A feel-bad musical rather than feel-good. Whether from persecution, disease or some other ailment, Sally likely won’t survive the coming years. Resoundingly, she doesn’t care, but her blissful ignorance shouldn’t be applauded. This is the sound of hopelessness.

“For God’s sake, I wish you could hear yourself sometimes. I mean, really hear yourself. Christ! Aren’t you ever gonna stop deluding yourself?” – Brian Roberts

Why Cabaret gets an A

One of the best musical movies of the New Hollywood era. Great dramatic story, great song-and-dance numbers and first-rate directing. On the same level as Badham’s Saturday Night Fever (1977) and Fosse’s own All That Jazz (1979).

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