Those aren’t going to be visible the whole time, right?”” asks second-time Muir Musical director Noelle Goodman-Morris to a room of scattered staff, eying a string of colored bulbs hanging in an awkwardly lopsided “”W”” above the cluttered stage of Mandeville Auditorium. Within mere hours of opening night, the performance space echoes with preparations: Michael “”the sound guy”” Kirkpatrick repeatedly tests a piercing telephone ring; an orchestra member fiddles with his horn in the front row of an empty audience; the stage crew sweeps up shards of broken Kit Kat Club lights. And, over it all, come the backstage twitters of the readying “”Cabaret”” players.
“”We have a much smaller cast this year,”” Goodman-Morris tells me, taking a moment from preshow hustle to discuss her latest progeny. “”There’s 16 people instead of the 26 in ‘Once Upon a Mattress,’ so it’s a very tight ensemble.””
Indeed, these costumed strippers and suits mingle in the tightest of proximities. A half-naked actress in pink lace lingerie – all stockings and cleavage and thigh – tests her flexibility on an occupied club table, while an off-duty waiter and his rich customer share a smoky drag at another downstage. “”Michelle, be careful, because the chair…”” one practicing chair-straddler begins, only to be redirected by Goodman-Morris. “”Can you call each other by your characters, please?”” she reminds them loudly. “”Helga, not Michelle, be careful of the chair!””
Up next to the soundboards, choreographer Christy Burner keeps an eye on the dancers, shuffling through their steps in her flip-flops. She has worked most vigorously with the four Kit Kat girls, who she says “”were all really dedicated – and one of them didn’t even have any dance experience.”” In the opening scene, Frenchie, Rosy, Lulu and Helga are presented in a guttural German drawl by the show-stealing Trevor Paringer, as Emcee: “”Each and every one a virgin!”” he exclaims, as they swivel their hips and switch their busom for the naughty introducer, then handstand up into his arms.
As flashy and richly charming the as long-built spectacle may be, “”Cabaret”” is not the character-glittered fairytale of “”Mattress.”” Studying abroad over the summer, Goodman-Morris felt a high level of disdain for Americans among the Europeans she met – especially in light of the war in Iraq. So she settled on something a little heavier: the torn showbiz-in-wartime tension of Kander and Ebb’s original 1933 musical “”Cabaret,”” based on the short travel stories of an American in Berlin and the subsequently adapted play “”I Am a Camera.””
“”The cast and I agreed that there’s a parallel between the combination of fear and apathy in 1930s Germany and where we are now,”” she said. “”Just in terms of war and – I didn’t want it to be political, but – current politics.””
For all the fizz these drama kids pump into the bubbly sex-club scenes, a looming historical context still gives each an almost sickly weight. Accordingly, Goodman-Morris has noticed, “”The vibe in the rehearsal room has been much more serious.”” And, further darkening the musical’s statement, a drastic script change has been made to the final scene: “”We have several characters walking across in Holocaust outfits, and their numbers are being read. And then, in the end, one of the title characters ends up being shot by a Nazi party member.”” A weighty close to an all-around admirable endeavor.
“”Cabaret”” will run April 12 through 14 at 8 p.m. in Mandeville Auditorium.
