Starring: Renee Zellweger, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Queen Latifah, John C. Reily, Taye Diggs, Lucy Liu, Dominic West

Screenplay: Bill Conden

Director: Rob Marshall

Rated PG-13 for sexual content and dialogue, violence and thematic elements

Reviewed by Peter Veugelaers Ó 2003
- See it or die!

  Chicago is skin-deep, a glittering illusion, and one that is skilfully executed. The illusion is obvious not just because of the basic seamlessness that holds any film together, but also because Chicago, like Moulin Rouge before it, is a musical and musicals, I think, are the most apparent of illusions and fantasy, along with science fiction, fantasy and horror – in real life no one starts singing in the rain or bursts into a showy number mid-way through conversation. Sets are big, photography glimmers, characters are larger than life, and the music provides another avenue of escapism.

 Although this is no moral treatise, or ambiguous development of the human condition, and casually panders to shallow living, revelling in the façade of show business, Chicago is an overarching pretense, reflecting the myth of entertainment and legitimises the pleasures of entertainment’s spell.

 It is about art for art’s sake, feelings and instincts than thoughtfulness, and the investment the characters put into their performance dance and song just because of the alluring promise of fame. This is its main “moral” fortitude, the predominant assumption it conveys, and if I were to make a judgment about this then I would say its ideas are essentially empty, like the artistic illusion it weaves.

 Still it’s a fascinating portrait of the human heart in all the inspired, bad and ugly it has to offer. In this sense, Chicago has something interesting, or deeper, within its story and although this film is illusion it contains elements of truth about the human condition – and all stories use this raw material of life to construct their fantasies.

 The characters are more like cartoon comedy figures, who are beyond higher humane feeling and unable to take responsibility for their behaviour but are instead innocents and victims, people you can empathise with. Roxie and Velma’s fantasies of stardom are conveyed in musical numbers, which represent their desire and imploding passion.

 The male leads are entirely dissimilar. The lawyer – as played by Richard Gere - has the right stuff in the eyes of the two protagonist women, when compared to the men that flaunt their sexual wares insincerely. Suave and charming, he says confidently and flippantly he could acquit Jesus Christ if he lived in 1920’s Chicago (of course, Jesus firmly put lawyers straight in his time, and he had no need for one, unlike Roxie and Thelma; Chicago, as I said earlier, plays as an elaborate, sometimes funny, tongue in cheek illusion).

 Gere’s lawyer becomes the link for Roxie and other clients (including Catherine Zeta-Jones’ Thelma), to pull the strings of justice and work for the benefit of the prisoners, while he gratefully accepts a substantial reward in the cause of bluffing his way through court proceedings (this is described in a memorable musical sequence, just one of the several).

 This is thoroughly enjoyable, particularly for those dance sequences – catchy, memorable song and dance showcase standout production values. Catherine Zeta Jones is a revelation as a dancer, and Richard Gere impresses, once you get past the amusing moment when he first sets feet to stage and voice to song; it is a tad shocking, but this would not seem to be why the city of Chicago was complaining about this film.