The motto that is branded on the stickers used to cover your phone cameras is “Keep It In The Kit Kat Club.” I’m gonna keep it that way for this post. Just read.
The minute you walk in, the show has already begun. You don’t even recognize the newly minted Kit Kat Club formerly known as the August Wilson as it was for past shows. You’re immersed in a dimly lit nightclub with booze flowing and a grand array of unbelievably talented dancers and musicians at almost every corner imaginable of the venue, and this is just in the lobby before you even enter the actual theater. Then you walk into the glorious proscenium-turned-in-the-round theater to your table (at least that’s where I was sitting) with bottle service and a light meal that is quite delectable whether you get a regular or vegan option, and you’re still being treated to pre-show entertainment that leaves you clapping and hooting for more; it’s an energetic feast for the eyes. Then the drumroll starts, lights out, and the real show begins. This is not your grandmother’s “Cabaret.” And it’s not your mother’s “Cabaret” either (i.e. the 1998 revival). This is a “Cabaret” for an entire new generation of theatergoers. Kander & Ebb’s songs still soar and Joe Masteroff’s book is still a glowing depiction of the city and souls of Berlin in a time of growing crisis, but now the themes scream out louder and clearer in today’s climate, more than ever before. It’s honestly terrifying how this show reflects our current situation. In conversations I’ve had with people in recent times, people have said “why do they always bring this one back every other year?” My answer: as long as there’s still hatred in this world towards people who are viewed as different, then it’ll continue to come back to hold a mirror up to society to show how little’s evolved. Director Rebecca Frecknall brings that terror of truth to the surface in a brutally beautiful way, and she also really highlights something I never fully noticed about this show until now: the naivety of each character to the situation that is boiling around them until it finally hits them in the face when they must give into the conformity of the growing Nazis. It’s a tragic truth of that time that Frecknall handles with much care and the right amount of intensity needed to drive the point home. This conformity even bleeds into the at-first-vibrant Kit Kat Club as the show progresses and you watch as the club’s merry performers go from living their true selves onstage to a more rigid, colorless shell of their former selves. It’s such a vivid arc from beginning to end. Beyond the direction, everything about this “Cabaret” is an absolute stunner as much as the immersive set design. The costuming is a cornucopia of vibrant colors and, in a crazy way, stories of the pasts of each individual character. The lighting really knows how to set the mood and overall tone of this thematically dark production. And the choreography, my god it is so thrilling and electrifying that I honestly can’t believe how they fit it all on such a tiny stage. And then you’ve got your main performances. The Emcee, portrayed by the incomparable Eddie Redmayne, is filled with an intriguing boyish charm and puppet master-like physicality that you begin to think there’s something hiding under all those layers he presents to the audience that might be a little more sinister. He’s the strongest candidate for Tony season I’ve seen so far! For Gayle Rankin, her Sally Bowles is still the wannabe performer we’ve known her to be since the getgo, and that’s a good thing. But when you get to her 11 o’clock number, you watch as this Sally fully breaks down before our eyes, fully realizing she’ll never get that happy ending and submitting to letting the party go on as long as humanly possible. It’s a tragic portrait that is mesmerizing from the first note to the final breath. And then, standing out to me for the first time in any production I’ve seen of this show, is Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz, both masterfully played by Bebe Neuwirth and Steven Skybell. Neuwirth is a veteran who really knows how to deliver the theatrical goods, even in a character who’s suffered and survived her entire life. That is truly highlighted within the second act in a number that get applause before the song’s even finished. Skybell is a tender and deeply touching Schultz that I found quite admirable, more than any other Schultz I have seen. You know there’s some naivety to his character and it makes your heart sink knowing what’s to come beyond the final curtain. The pairing of these two is exceptional; one that should very much be celebrated! Life IS beautiful in this “Cabaret.” It’s absolutely incredible the next generation of theatergoers get to see what live performance can be beyond the traditional proscenium setting, and what it can do in terms of educating and promoting social change, and not simply entertaining an audience. It did it for me in 2014, and I hope it does it again for all the other young me’s out in the world.
