Cabaret (Broadway)

♣♣♣♣♣/♣♣♣♣♣

The Emcee (Adam Lambert) of the Kit Kat Club welcomes us to Weimar era Berlin, where merrymaking and hedonism know no bounds. He introduces us to the girls and boys of the club but saves the best for last. Sally Bowles (Gabi Campo) is your stereotypical 20’s flapper, a cultural refugee from the British Isles who moves to Germany for a life of pleasure and penury. Soon to join the ranks is penniless American writer Clifford Bradshaw (Calvin Leon Smith) with whom she forms a platonic bond. Eventually they all end up under the roof of Fraulein Schneider (Bebe Neuwirth), a German spinster who relies on rent money for subsistence. Clifford makes ends meet by offering English lessons as well as doing errands for his friend Ernst (Henry Gottfried), a political upstart quickly rising within the ranks of the emerging Nazi party. As Hitler ascends into power, dynamics change and loyalties shift. Will it be a quickly passing tide or are they soon going to drown in a sea of prejudice?

Once you go through August Wilson Theater’s metal detectors and ticket check, you pass by a narrow alley leading you to the entrance where two ushers will slap a sticker on your phone’s camera lens. No more photos and videos from here onward. You can easily remove that sticker and be stealthy with your pics, but I observed that nobody was doing so because everyone was busy admiring what had been done to the venue. They turned this theater into a real life Kit Kat Club, with drinks to order, lounges and mini stages with burlesque performances at several corners. This is better off experienced firsthand than rewatched on video.

You aren’t just watching the show, you are part of the show. There is a circular revolving platform with a concealed mini trapdoor at the center. This is the stage, the centerpiece of the cabaret where you are the audience within the play AND watching the play. There are no elaborate sets, everything unfolds on that small stage, rotating and rising as necessary to support the scene. If anything, Cabaret seems to be a masterclass in maximizing such a small platform. Of course, you also have the costumes that just transport you to a different era.

An email notification was sent a day before saying that Auli’i Carvalho wouldn’t be playing Sally for this particular performance. Campo assumes the role and immediately captivates the audience with her Don’t Tell Mama opening number. Every other performance coming from her is well applauded after that. The only thing off-putting about her is the accent, shuttling back and forth between American and British. Lambert is just as electric playing the Emcee, nailing both his character’s flamboyance in the first act and his darker aura during the second half. No issues as far as vocals are concerned. It’s Adam Lambert, guys. Doh.

What makes Cabaret so enigmatic and ever relevant is its subject matter. Act 1 is all fun and games, flirting with a swastika or two subtly sprinkled in there somewhere. And then you get to Act 2 and there is just this pervasive ambiance. The fun is still there alright, but everything starts to feel artificial, put-on as if trying to conceal something rotten emanating from the core, through song and dance. It’s creepy because this is a narrative set almost a century ago, and yet too many parallels can be witnessed all over the world right now. As radical ideologies seep through the cracks, we all just go on with the daily mundane routine as we all do.

Maybe that’s what really makes Cabaret so distinct. After all, this is the story of a notorious regime’s rise to power. While most of us are familiar with the story through history books, they can only give us facts, not feels. How does it feel like to witness the birth of something all history books agree to be so despicable? As such, there is just this gloom and uncertainty palpable in the atmosphere that make the experience enjoyable because of the song and dance but also weirdly dark and uncomfortable. Lucky for us, like Clifford and Sally, we are but mere spectators, outsiders who can pack up and leave anytime.

Others, like Herr Schultz, weren’t as lucky. One particular song, Tomorrow Belongs to Me, which the Emcee sings solo at first and then reprised by one of the club girls later, seems so harmless. Once you find out that it's a propaganda tune, it makes you realize how symbols play a really big part in ideology. It’s spine chilling like that. While it sounds beautiful and inspired, it’s terrifying how it can make you feel despite knowing well what purpose it serves.