Past Reviews

Regional Reviews: San Francisco/North Bay


Cabaret
Oakland Theater Project
Review by Patrick Thomas

Also see Patrick's review of Mother of Exiles


The Cast
Photo by Ben Krantz Studio
From its first incarnation, there was always a sense of escapism to Cabaret, the undeniably brilliant Kander (music) and Ebb (lyrics) musical, with book by Joe Masteroff, based on the play by John Van Druten and stories by Christopher Isherwood. After all, doesn't the title song suggest we ignore the "prophets of doom" and "come hear the music play?" Throughout the show, currently running in a dynamic and powerful production at Oakland Theater Project, many of the songs–and much of the plot–revolve around ignoring the outside world, settling for less, and living for today and letting tomorrow take care of itself.

In the very first song, "Wilkommen," the Emcee (a delightfully edgy Deanalís Arocho Resto) tells us to "leave your troubles outside," for "in here, life is beautiful." In the second number, "So What?," Fraulein Schneider (Beth Wilmurt) takes newly arrived writer Clifford Bradshaw's (James Mercer II) offer of 50 marks for a room she rents in her boarding house, even though she wants 100, because "the sun will rise and the moon will set and you learn to settle for what you get." In "Mein Herr," Sally Bowles (played with a delightfully ingratiating air by Sharon Shao) tells men in general to take her for what she is ("a tiger is a tiger, not a lamb") and make no attempt to change her. The haunting "Maybe This Time" has Sally once again accepting her fate, though holding out hope, however meager, for a different outcome. Then, near the finale, the Emcee and the cast tell us "I Don't Care Much": "Go or stay–I don't care very much either way."

One of my favorite films is Groundhog Day, in part because of its message. Bill Murray's character Phil ultimately finds love only after he embraces his full, true self. Because, after all, since time is limitless for him, he might as well. But the film tells us that we should all embrace our full, true selves because the opposite is true: our time on this planet is limited. I feel the same about Cabaret: its core message is not to escape to a fantasy world, but to instead take action against fascist/authoritarian attempts to subvert democracy and spread hate. Though the show revels in escapism, in its final moment, Cliff takes action–beginning to tell the story of his time in Berlin as a cautionary tale.

With that diversion of critical analysis out of the way, let's move on to this production, which honors the show's subtext and vital themes more faithfully than any production I've seen.

The last show I saw at Oakland Theater Project was a powerful production of I Am My Own Wife. If you are unfamiliar with that play, it tells the story of a trans woman, Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, who survived both the Nazis and the communists in East Berlin, and created a safe (relatively) space for queer people in the basement of a house she commandeered for herself. I like to think of this production of Cabaret as taking place inside that basement, populated by a wildly diverse population of queer folks and society's rebels.

Because of some illnesses in the cast in the week leading up to opening night, it was actually the first performance in front of a live audience, but you wouldn't know that from the way the show went off seemingly without a hitch, and the cast performing the often-intricate and quite imaginative choreography (by Erika Chong Shuch, who is also the director) without putting a foot wrong, and by the overall excellence of the production.

Oakland Theater Project stages most of its shows in this small, black box space that occupies a room off the cavernous warehouse of an art supply store, and set designer Sarah Phykitt has created an immersive environment consisting of a series of platforms that step down in a sort of multi-level runway/thrust which the audience surrounds on all four sides. Upstage and right, the highest platform is where the "orchestra"–a DJ and a single guitarist (Joshua Pollock, who does double duty, also playing the role of Herr Schultz, who, true to the show's theme, blithely dismisses the Nazi threat). Part of me missed the richness of the score as played by a more well-equipped band, but given the relatively large cast–and the shoestring budget OTP operates on–it was easy to put that disappointment to the side and just enjoy the tremendous work on display here.

There is so much to love about this production and very little to dislike. Perhaps the voices are not of the powerful, belting nature one might find in a Broadway production, but in Isherwood's novel "Goodbye to Berlin" that was part of the inspiration for Cabaret, the club was a rather seedy place and Bowles was no Liza Minnelli. The costumes (by Ashley Renee) are gloriously diverse, a delightful melange of colors and patterns tied together by a rather punk sensibility. To a person, the performers are never less than fully committed to their roles, and a wonderfully queer air pervades every moment of the show. Beth Wilmurt is wondrous as Fraulein Schneider, the "spinster" landlady who once led a life of luxury but has been reduced to taking in borders. When it comes time for her to sing "So What?," a keyboard suddenly appears and she sits down and plays. She then turns into a ukulele player for the delightful "It Couldn't Please Me More (A Pineapple)," and it turns out to be a perfect accompaniment for the tune.

James Mercer II has perhaps the most challenging role, for in the midst of all the fishnet/leather/edgy makeup design queerness of the rest of the characters, his Cliff is the white bread accompanying a spicy stew. But he manages to show his range, especially in later scenes when he realizes the threats the Nazis represent and the heartbreak he feels when Sally abandons him. Ije Success plays prostitute Fraulein Kost with a bitchy, oversexed tawdriness that feels just right for the character.

Director Erika Chong Shuch seems to have called on every aspect of her imagination to create an environment that reflects the core nature of the source material. She directs her cast to writhe and slither and scream and soar and generally make every moment special in its own way. She begins "Maybe This Time" as a solo number, as it is usually performed, then modulates it into a duo, then a quartet (with Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz), and finally a septet. When Schneider and Schultz announce their engagement, she has the cast lift the bride to be on a chair, calling to mind a tradition of celebration at Jewish weddings, reminding us of the threat German Jews faced. The show is set both in Weimar-era Germany and the present day–something the director most clearly shows by having the characters refer to the MacBook Cliff writes on as his typewriter. In the song "Money," she has included a sample of Rihanna's "Bitch Better Have My Money" and Kanye West's "Can't Tell Me Nothing."

About the only thing I didn't care for in this production was the choice to introduce the actors and the parts they would play at the top of the show. We have a program for that, and it would be far better to let us meet the characters on our own as the show unfolds.

Cabaret exists in a world of people desperately clinging to their dreams, hoping fantasies will come true if they just keep ignoring everything that is telling them otherwise. Its message for us–so important in the struggle American democracy is currently facing–is that we cannot afford to ignore what's happening outside the doors of the theater but must–like Cliff in the show's final moments–take action.

Cabaret runs through December 14, 2025 at Oakland Theater Project, 1501 Martin Luther King, Jr. Way, Oakland CA. All performances are sold out. (We can only hope for an extension.) For information, please visit www.oaklandtheaterproject.org.