Chicago (2002)

Every song in Chicago plays out inside Roxie Hart’s head, which is a smart fix for the old stage show and also the reason Rob Marshall never stops cutting. Some numbers get chopped into so many pieces you can’t actually watch anybody dance. The rest is a sugar rush. Catherine Zeta-Jones owns Velma Kelly, all snap and fury, and Renée Zellweger plays Roxie as a starstruck schemer who believes every headline about herself. Richard Gere is a hoot as Billy Flynn, tap-dancing his way through a trial, and the press conference where Roxie becomes his ventriloquist dummy is the sharpest gag. John C. Reilly breaks your heart as the husband nobody notices, and Queen Latifah’s Mama Morton runs the jail like a hotel concierge with a price list. It made $306.8 million worldwide on a reported $45M, and audiences gave it an A-minus CinemaScore. An 8.1 because the cast sells every number even when the edit won’t let them finish one. $909 says you do jazz hands at the next person who asks you to explain yourself.

What works: Zeta-Jones’s fire, Reilly’s sad-sack ballad and a cast that sings and dances like their careers depend on it.

What doesn’t: The rapid editing chops up the choreography, so you rarely get to watch a full routine play out.

Who it’s for: Musical fans and anyone who loves a flashy satire about people who’ll do anything to get famous.