Review

Review Date: 29-December-02
Spoiler Rating: Low
Juju Judgment: Juicy

Chicago (2002)

As the recent popularity of ass-whomping female heroes attests (e.g., Buffy, Charlie's Angels, "Alias"), there's something irresistible about strong, pretty women getting mad and getting even. And as the Broadway hit "Chicago" reveals, this attraction remains even if the women aren't fighting for good over evil, but just looking out for Number One. Power and sex — they go together like chocolate and strawberries, and can make for a highly entertaining mix. While the new movie version of "Chicago" isn't perfect and lacks the daring of recent musicals such as "Dancer in the Dark" or "Moulin Rouge," it is still a glitzy, lusty, exuberant good time that made me want to drench myself in sequins and do the Charleston till the curl went out of my hair. To put it simply, Hollywood's "Chicago" is the bee's knees.

For cats unfamiliar with the tale (as I was), here's what goes down: in the roaring '20s, a broad named Roxie Hart (Renée Zellweger) kills her lover after finding out that he has lied about helping her to become a showgirl. While in prison, she meets and becomes rivals with Velma Kelley (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a popular singer/dancer who is also a murderer (she shot her husband and sister after finding them together). These women are aided in their pursuit of public attention by cell block matron Mama Morton (Queen Latifah) and grandstanding lawyer Billy Flynn (Richard Gere), both of whom foster the notoriety of the lovely killers to further their own ends. In addition, Roxie is supported on the outside by her dull and ignored husband, Amos (John C. Reilly). The story is told largely in song and dance numbers imagined by Roxie, and follows her through the end of her incarceration, when she and Velma receive what passes for justice in the rough and tumble, jazz soaked city of Chicago.

Director Rob Marshall dishes out this smorgasbord of debauchery, selfishness, and "image is everything" superficiality with a straightforward theatrical style that gets the job done but doesn't dazzle with innovation. (He also has a penchant for dimly lit settings which, while they might aptly reflect the corners of Roxie's mind, made me wonder what defects in his cast or his production designer he was trying to hide.) Still, the songs, the costumes, the humor, and the enthusiasm of the stars carry the movie along and get the blood pumping. Zellweger is surprisingly well cast as Roxie, callous and ambitious and just sexy enough to have a scrapper's potential without being a sure-fire knockout. She can sing, too, as can Zeta-Jones, who really lets it all hang out and displays some nice footwork as well. John C. Reilly adds a nice voice to his already impressive range of talent, and Queen Latifah sizzles in the movie's most show-stopping number, "When You're Good to Mama" (now there's a woman who really knows how to strut her stuff). Only Gere seems to be straining, which causes a slight drag toward the end of the film, but by that point you're enjoying yourself too much to resent it.

Indeed, whatever quibbles the critic in me feels compelled to acknowledge about "Chicago" (like, "This story is so cynical!" or "It's too bad Zellweger and Zeta-Jones are devoid of vampy cleavage"), the moviegoer in me brushes aside as nitpicky. Scene for scene, this is the most out-and-out fun I've had at the movies in a while.

Copyright © 2002 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.