Chapter 234: Competitor Weinstein

"Five, six, seven!"

A voice rang out like a countdown over the orchestral score. A pair of longing blue eyes appeared on screen, cutting directly to the word "Chicago" cast in neon against a dark background. The bright red lights hung like a signal lamp, warning the audience that this would be a vibrantly colored film.

The film opened with a musical number. A close-up of the announcer's mouth instantly cut to a dizzying stage. The cold tones of the stage background and the warm tones of the wine lounge formed a sharp contrast with a strong visual impact.

The echoing jazz, the audience indulging in sensual pleasures, and the brightly lit theater fully displayed the richness and frenzy of the nightlife in Chicago.

The show had already begun. Velma, having just murdered her sister, hurried over. Over the short distance she walked to enter the theater, the tones of light and shadow shifted constantly. This showcased Duke's extreme mastery of lighting and color—the dance hall's seductive blue lights leaked through the windows, and the wet street reflected them back onto the screen. A sense of panic, mystery, and restless anxiety subtly emerged right at the start of the film.

Even though the camera shot from a low angle to show only a pair of feet crossing a short distance, it built the perfect effect out of light and shadow, exposing the film's noir temperament.

Coupled with the piercing close-up of the eyes at the beginning, Duke had effectively signaled the audience through his own methods. He was taking a familiar story and using the musical format to externalize, materialize, and magnify the inner states of its characters. By hiding film noir techniques beneath the gorgeous musical numbers, he painted the picture with a heavy noir flavor.

"Seeing this opening, more than half of my worries about Duke have vanished." George Lucas tilted his head slightly toward Mrs. Leah. "As long as there are no issues with the musical numbers, I believe that with Duke's ability, the film will definitely be above standard."

Mrs. Leah nodded. She knew the standard Lucas mentioned wasn't just a passing grade—it meant an outstanding film.

Chicago was ultimately a musical. No matter how outstanding the other aspects were, if the actors' singing and dancing failed, the entire film failed.

As a veteran fan of Chicago, Gru knew this very well. The beginning of the film was indeed well done. Its gorgeous shifts in light and shadow and its audio-visual processing were absolutely impossible for a stage play to match. Film had a natural advantage in this regard, but the upcoming opening musical number was the most critical test. Velma was pretty enough; he just didn't know how her singing and dancing would be.

"A typical Duke-style film opening," Allen said to Kunitz. "He abandoned the long takes he frequently used in Saving Private Ryan and switched back to a fast pace built on short takes."

Kunitz stared intently at the screen and lowered his voice. "The female lead is a good choice. Zeta-Jones is truly beautiful and very sexy. Her acting is good too. No wonder she could win Duke's heart."

"If her singing and dancing aren't up to par..." Even though he wasn't a musical fan, Allen understood this clearly. "...Duke will definitely be criticized for his casting choices. Unfavorable rumors might even start spreading..."

The stage lights on the screen suddenly flared, and the platform slowly rose. Zeta-Jones stood within a white halo against a completely black background. Black and white intertwined, forming a massive color contrast that instantly lit up the audience's eyes.

"Come on, babe..."

Amid the music, Velma began the first musical number. This was the signature song of the entire play—All That Jazz.

Catherine Zeta-Jones's voice was full of magnetism. Her singing was rich, and her dance moves were wild and full of temptation. She fit the character's setting perfectly, grabbing the audience's attention in an instant.

"She sings pretty well."

Hearing Kunitz's words, Allen nodded hastily. "Her expressions are so seductive. When she blinked, I thought she was making eyes at me. And those legs—beautiful! Duke made a fantastic choice with this actress!"

Gru was also nodding. Compared to the rearranged musical on Broadway, this actress's dancing was slightly lacking, but she made up for it with an outstanding singing voice. It was no wonder she had a background acting in musicals in the West End of London.

Three rows ahead of him, Whitley, a theater critic for the New York Times, was jotting something down in her notebook. Although she wasn't a film critic, she had specifically come to the Premiere just to see how Duke Rosenberg would adapt a classic play like Chicago.

But from the looks of it so far, the beginning of the film was quite successful. Setting aside the cinematic techniques he was already adept at, even the musical scenes were absolutely outstanding.

Moreover, aside from slightly weaker dancing, the Velma in the film completely blew the musical version's Velma out of the water in every other aspect.

This was perfectly normal. Whitley didn't feel surprised. Even though she was just a theater critic, she knew that film had numerous advanced post-production technologies capable of touching up musical performances and even acting. Never mind that this actress named Catherine Zeta-Jones already possessed a solid foundation in singing and dancing; even if her abilities were one or two levels below the stage play's female lead, the film could rely on production techniques to infinitely shrink that disadvantage, or even overcome it.

This was an inherently unfair comparison. They were completely different forms of artistic expression, and film catered to the masses, while musicals were relatively niche. Only a fool would compare a stage actor to a film actor; post-production technology alone could put three streets of distance between the two.

Therefore, Duke had never worried about whether the nostalgic audience base could accept the singing and dancing. Lily Fred came from a veteran Broadway background and had been nominated for the Tony Awards several times, so her ability was definitely not an issue.

Indeed, during the live shooting, the black actress playing Velma had completely crushed Naomi Watts and Catherine Zeta-Jones in terms of singing and dancing. But don't forget, he was a director—and a technically oriented one at that. He wouldn't be foolish enough to just stuff the raw footage of the musical scenes into the film. Instead, he and Lily Fred had meticulously edited several numbers, doing their utmost to remove any flaws in the characters' dancing.

Perhaps the dancing still had some shortcomings even after editing—after all, no professional body doubles were used throughout the entire process—but in terms of the songs, Duke believed that the film's studio-dubbed version would absolutely crush any theater's live singing.

The audio was indeed recorded live during shooting, but when it came to post-production, Duke swapped the vocals of all the musical scenes for the studio-recorded versions without a second thought. How could a live performance compare to singing touched up by various post-production technologies? Let alone these musical actors, even Michael Jackson's live singing had a clear gap compared to his studio effects.

Yes, compared to musicals that required complete live performances, the film version was simply cheating—and cheating openly, at that. No one could say a word against this kind of cheating; otherwise, they would just be a joke.

There was also appearance. Duke had seen pictures of previous Chicago stage actors, and Naomi Watts, Catherine Zeta-Jones, and Tom Cruise held an absolute advantage. Don't claim that looks aren't important for a film like this; the effect of pairing singing and dancing with handsome men and beautiful women was often astounding.

Furthermore, on the foundation of guaranteed acting, singing, and dancing standards, being beautiful and handsome was simply the hard truth.

Everyone loves beauty.

Just as the audience was deeply captivated by the singing and dancing, another warm-to-cold color transition occurred, and the other female lead—Roxie Hart—appeared on screen. The fates of the two beautiful killers intertwined from then on. Velma was dazzling on the dance floor, while Roxie, off the floor, was filled with envy.

Through Roxie looking and Velma being looked at, the film wove a projection of desire. This projection was explicitly expressed through Roxie's gaze.

Next came a segment using the Parallel Montage technique. This was an extremely simple and common cinematic technique, yet it brought an entirely different effect from a stage play. Trying to showcase a Parallel Montage through a stage play... forget it, the two were fundamentally incomparable.

Whitley pressed a heavy stroke into her notebook. This adaptation was obviously much more appealing than the stage play's straightforward narrative. Moreover, the intricate entanglement of the two female leads perfectly highlighted the film's theme.

From the clips that had been screened so far, it seemed that the director, Duke Rosenberg, was completely different from the evaluations she had heard from film critics.

Velma was exceptionally charming under the blue, romantic, and mysterious stage lighting. Meanwhile, the striking red light behind Roxie hinted at the mania and desire in her heart.

As the camera continuously pushed in and the framing gradually tightened, Roxie's gaze met Velma's. Ultimately, in a moment when she turned her head, she substituted Velma's stage role for her own feverish inner self. Under Roxie's projection of desire, the reality space offstage and the performance space onstage were substituted and unified.

It was no exaggeration to say that while the film caught people's eyes with its colors and gorgeous musical numbers, Duke Rosenberg was employing a large number of technical cinematic techniques.

The musical parts and Roxie's affair intertwined, constantly cross-cutting. The filthiness of human nature and the eruption of desire were infinitely magnified through the rapid editing. The two scenes transitioned through similar framing, alongside identical and contrasting movements. The transition was natural yet full of symbolism.

Whitley couldn't understand how a director who, according to film critics, only knew how to make things explode, could produce such profoundly symbolic shots and scenes. Setting everything else aside, the film's use of lighting and color alone could be called master-class!

Thinking of this, regarding the film critics and Duke, a very fitting description popped into Whitley's mind—interest and prejudice!

She was merely a theater critic. Although she occasionally reviewed films, she had no entanglement of interests with Hollywood, so she felt her evaluation was fairer.