except for me).And, thanks to the intoxicating atmosphere created by designer Tom Scutt and Redmayne’s meticulous and freakish performance, the show does not make for an unsatisfying night out in New York.
There’s plenty to admire.Yet the pricey bells and whistles distract from what is a so-so, overly dreary staging that is often undermined by its own overwrought machinations.
Undeniably slick and handsome, this two-hour-and-forty-five-minute musical feels much longer than it should.That’s because, bizarrely for a production that is so determined to get its audience wasted, it’s hesitant to have too much fun itself.For instance, in this corroded vision of the show that’s set in 1930s Berlin, the Emcee and Kit Kat Club boys and girls appear to be complicit with the Nazis.
That depressing scenario, however plausible, presents a major structural problem: If we fly directly into hell, where, then, does that give American writer Cliff Bradshaw (Ato Blankson-Wood) and quirky English songstress Sally Bowles (Gayle Rankin) to go?Exactly nowhere.Life is certainly a cabaret during the iconic opener “Willkommen,” exuberantly choreographed by Julia Cheng and giddily performed by Redmayne and the boisterous ensemble.
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