Cabaret, like most other musicals, opens in song, and we are first introduced to the oddly sinister - and just plain odd - Master of Ceremonies, who immediately welcomes a certain uneasiness in the viewer, like only a man with upturned eyebrows, black pupils, rouged cheeks, a face full of pancake makeup, and a sleazy smile can do. We are brought into the world of the Kit Kat Klub, a cabaret in 1931 Berlin, where Weimar politics, bribery, courtship, and alcohol melt together under the emcee's all-knowing smile; a room where the red, white, and black sashes of fascism slowly multiply before our eyes.
Cabaret is a film of many things, and among those things are uncertainty and uneasiness, perfectly instilled through Joel Grey's embodiment of the emcee, whom we never see without makeup. Can we trust him? His smile seems, at times, too knowing. The secret is his sly manipulation; as the political landscape of Berlin, Germany, and all of Europe changes, so does his show. In his world, everything is "beautiful," and he twists reality so you never really know which side he is on, if he has chosen one at all.
As these changes take place, we follow the story of two young people: Sally Bowles (Liza Minelli), a recent addition to the "Klub," and Brian Roberts (Michael York), a British academic who just moved into the city and into Sally's boarding house. Sally is a girl who loves the spotlight and aspires for stardom as an actress, and Brian is in the city to study philosophy. Their personalities immediately contradict each other - Sally is a flamboyant extrovert and Brian is a reserved English tutor - and, as expected, they become best friends and exude perfect chemistry.
Liza Minelli is the perfect channel for the spirit of pre-Nazi Germany, and she steals the show. Her wide-eyed face and big smile betray eagerness as well as a certain loneliness, not to be confused with naiveté. She is either unaware of the rapid changes taking place around her, or more likely, does not care to pay attention. She is too preoccupied with fulfilling her own dreams, with music, lights, love, lust, drink, and escaping the stark, brutal realities right outside the cabaret doors, much as the German citizens turned a blind eye to the truth behind the propaganda fed them by the Nazis. Minelli embraces Sally's world with ease, never appearing overbearing even as she dominates every scene she is in. She convincingly rejects conventional mores with subtle irony, all the while balancing a love for life and an underlying fear of losing it. Her performance perhaps is what carries the film the most, acting as both representative of an oblivious population and as a deeply conflicted individual searching for happiness, and as such, she brings humanity into a movie filled with elaborate facades and the people who hide behind them.
The musical's integration of songs is also unique, and along with the cinematography, turn watching the film into an experience. At no point in the film do any of the actors break out into song; the movie is not a fantasy. Part of the film's realism comes from the lack of "escapism" inherent in most other films of the genre, where the performances appear as spontaneous outbursts. The only escapism here is that which is offered to the audience, and which inevitably ensnares both Sally and Brian - not the most comforting fantasy. To the characters, the world outside their own is made up of only pictures that they can pass on by. Each song in Cabaret contributes in some way to the complexity and ambiguity of the characters (Tiller Girls; Two Ladies); to flamboyance, rampart desire for extravagance, as well as criticism thereof (Money Money); and, of course, to the changing country and cabaret itself (Tomorrow Will be Mine; If You Could See Her).
The German kabarett itself had its roots in the French restaurant-clubs that sprung up during the late nineteenth century, but it was different from our traditional conception of the cabaret (most of us picture girls dancing the Can-can at the Moulin Rouge in Paris); Germany offered more satirical and politically biting commentary in its entertainment. Berlin itself, during the tumult of the post-WWI era, became the European hotspot for cabaret entertainment, until they became censored and suppressed under Hitler's regime. Fossey's film captures the atmosphere of the culture of interwar Germany through its lack of constraint and the inability of Sally and Brian to reconcile their personal desires with the fantasies played out on stage.
These elements, along with an abrupt ending following the final song, "Cabaret", all contribute to an amazing film that probably takes more than one viewing to fully appreciate. We are always kept guessing and in the dark, with the colorful lights and fog of the performances masking as much from the characters as from the audience. The story is not happy, but one wouldn't expect that from a film that foreshadows the horrors of Fascist Europe. The ultimate rise of the Nazis will eventually signal the end of the cabaret, and with it the aspirations of its inhabitants, who find it impossible to control their inner demons. Cabaret is both a artistic extravaganza that wholly absorbs you and a striking insight into the lives of people caught in circumstances that they either can't or refuse to accept.
P.S. I like drawing pics of movies that I like.
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