The Broadway revival of Chicago managed to be cheeky and creaky, a throwback to pseudo-racy vaudeville that's "clean-sexy" in a non-threatening, Marilyn Monroe sort of way. Chicago the movie, from first-time feature director Rob Marshall, amplifies the passion and ratchets up the sass, all with a wink and a grin held over from the original tongue-in-cheek theatrical production.
From its first song-and-dance to its final curtain call, Marshall's Chicago packs its frames with all that jazz; translated, that means corruption, adultery, exploitation, and death. This ain't the 1990s, folks. It's the Roaring '20s, and murder - as seedy attorney Billy Flynn (Richard Gere) so aptly puts it - is "a form of entertainment."
Continue reading: Chicago Review