Jazz, Jails, and the Art of the Spin: Why ‘Chicago’ Still Owns Broadway
There are shows that try to sweep you off your feet with big romance, big sets, and even bigger “look what we built” spectacle. Chicago doesn’t need any of that. It walks onstage like it already knows you’re watching. It gives you a sly smile, snaps into a pose, and dares you to admit you love the mess. And the thing is, I do. Every time. Seeing Chicago on Broadway feels like stepping into a glittery courtroom where the truth is optional, and the spotlight is the only judge that matters. It’s razor-sharp. It’s sexy in that deliberately stylized, vaudeville way. It’s funny, but the humor has teeth. And for a show that’s been around long enough to be considered a “classic,” it somehow still feels like it’s talking about right now.
[Warning: Spoilers from the Chicago are below!]
Chicago’s vibe: sleek, cynical, and deliciously theatrical
If you’ve never seen it, the first surprise is how clean and stripped it is. Chicago isn’t trying to distract you with scenery. It’s built like a showbiz skeleton: lights, bodies, music, and attitude. The band is a huge part of the visual language, and the staging often feels like you’re watching a performance inside a performance. That choice is not just stylish, it’s the point. This is a story about image-making. So the production itself is image-making, right in front of you, with no apology. The aesthetic is all black, red, and shimmer, with choreography that speaks in sharp angles and controlled swagger. This is the kind of show where a shoulder roll can count as a plot twist. And because it’s so minimal, you can’t hide in it. The performers have to sell every moment with intention. When it works, it feels like you’re watching a masterclass in presence.
At its core, Chicago is about two women, Roxie Hart and Velma Kelly, who end up in the same orbit of scandal, ambition, and opportunism. Roxie is the eager amateur who wants to be adored. Velma is the seasoned headliner who is furious that someone else is stealing her spotlight. They’re both trying to survive, but they’re also trying to win, and the show understands that those are not the same thing. The men around them aren’t saviors. They’re facilitators. Billy Flynn, the slick lawyer with a salesman’s grin, doesn’t just defend his clients; he produces them. He turns crime into a narrative, a performance, a public snack. Mama Morton runs the jail with a wink and a hustle, operating on favors and “mutual arrangements” that everyone pretends are normal. Amos Hart, Roxie’s husband, is heartbreak in human form, a man who wants to be loved in a world that rewards flash, not loyalty. What lands hardest for me is how Chicago never lets you forget that the system is the joke. The press, the public, the courts, the vaudeville circuit, it’s all one big stage. The show doesn’t ask, “Who is innocent?” It asks, “Who is interesting?” And that is a much darker question.
The music and choreography of this Broadway show are iconic for a reason
This score is basically a greatest hits album of Broadway cynicism, and it still plays like a flex. “All That Jazz” sets the tone immediately, and it does it with that signature combination of seduction and exhaustion. “Cell Block Tango” is a showstopper that people quote like it’s scripture, and the reason it works is that it’s both hilarious and unsettling. You’re entertained, and then you realize you’ve been entertained by a parade of violence that the characters have wrapped in punchlines. “Razzle Dazzle” is the show’s mission statement, a glitter bomb explanation of how distraction becomes strategy. “Mister Cellophane” is quietly devastating, and it always sneaks up on me. “Nowadays” and “Hot Honey Rag” land as a finale that feels like a curtain call and a warning at the same time. The show ends with applause, but it also ends with the sense that we have learned absolutely nothing, which is exactly the point.
People throw around Fosse like it’s a vibe, but in Chicago, it’s practically a language. The choreography is sharp, stylized, and full of controlled heat. It’s not about athletic tricks. It’s about intention. A turned knee, a slow reach, a hat angle, a sudden stillness that pulls focus like a spotlight. This is dance as persuasion. Dance as manipulation. Dance as “watch me, don’t question me.” And because the show is built like a vaudeville act, the dance often feels like it’s commenting on the story while also being the story. That layered theatricality is why Chicago still feels modern. It understands performance as power.
Chicago’s performances: this show rewards confidence
What makes Chicago hit like a shot of sequins and cynicism is how this cast understands that the show is a game of control. Whoever owns the room owns the story. Kate Baldwin as Roxie Hart plays the “I’m innocent” routine with a smile that feels practiced in the mirror, which is exactly the point. She knows Roxie isn’t chasing justice; she’s chasing the spotlight, and she lets that hunger peek through even when the character is pretending to be sweet. Across from her, Robyn Hurder as Velma Kelly is all sharp edges and show-business instincts, the kind of performer who can throw a look that lands like a punchline. It’s the contrast that makes the rivalry so delicious: Roxie’s desperate reinvention versus Velma’s seasoned confidence. Then Alex Newell as Matron “Mama” Morton brings a warm, dangerous ease to the role, the kind of charm that makes you understand why everyone plays by her rules, even while you’re laughing at the bargain she’s offering.
On the slicker, sharkier side of the courtroom, Tam Mutu as Billy Flynn sells the fantasy like a premium product, and that’s the whole scam. He doesn’t just argue a case; he stages one, and you can feel him conducting the room like it’s his personal orchestra pit. Raymond Bokhour as Amos Hart is the bruised heart of the show, playing the quiet devastation with restraint that makes it sting harder, because Amos isn’t loud enough to compete in this world. R. Lowe as Mary Sunshine leans into the character’s glossy sincerity in a way that makes the satire pop, while Zach Bravo as Fred Casely and Barrett Martin as Sergeant Fogarty keep the story’s spark and tension moving with clean, pointed presence. The result is a company that doesn’t just perform the show; they weaponize its rhythm, and that’s when Chicago is at its best.
Final verdict on this Broadway classic
Chicago is Broadway’s sleekest little trap. It lures you in with jazz hands and smoky lighting, then hands you a mirror and calls it entertainment. It’s cynical, stylish, and weirdly timeless. And the wildest part is that it still feels relevant without needing to update a single thing. The world keeps proving the show right. If you want a night out that’s sexy, funny, and smarter than it looks, Chicago delivers. It’s the kind of show that reminds you why theatre can be both a party and a weapon, sometimes in the same eight counts.
Chicago’s current batch of tickets is available now- September 13, 2026, with a runtime of approximately 2 hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission. Have you seen Chicago yet? What was your favorite moment or song? Let us know @bsb.insider on all major social media platforms.
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