Although Broadway musicals continue successful revivals on stage and once had a nice run on screen, often they don't stand the test of time within the film medium. South Pacific contains memorable songs, but the 1958 film version now feels overly staged and out of synch with the abrupt jumping into song with little cause and many sound stage numbers not matching location shooting. Even more dated is Rosaline Russell's Gypsy that is almost an embarrassment to watch—I didn't remember it being this lifeless on summer stock stage.

What a refreshing change with Cabaret!

Despite its 1972 release date, Bob Fosse's musical film about the Kit Cat Club during Berlin's decadent 1930s continues to hold up. A major reason rests with Fosse's decision to make a FILM adaptation without strictly duplicating the successful Broadway play, so Fosse shot on location in Germany with new scenes (based on the Christopher Isherwood short stories that served as source materials) and songs to create unique version of Cabaret. Fosse wasn't even keen on using Joel Grey in the crucial master of ceremonies role he had made famous on Broadway until the producer presented an offer he couldn't refuse—either hire Grey or get fired as director.

Cabaret did well in head to head competition with The Godfather for Oscar gold, winning 8 statuettes to only 3 for Coppola's classic, including Grey's supporting actor nod over Al Pacino. Of course at the time, Pacino was relatively unknown to Academy members, and Grey performs the crucial role of keeping the cabaret going inside while all the troubles are left outside. His impish "look� at the end of the German anthem where Nazis dominate the patriotic singing captures the coming evil and is unforgettable.

Liza Minnelli charismatically claims the musical as her own with her energetic portrayal of Sally Bowles, an American entertainer with dreams of a movie stardom, who will bed down with anyone that leads to a screen test. So why a cabaret in 1930s Berlin? Who cares. The setting helps develop the darker themes of the film, so it doesn't turn out like a saccharin Sound of Music clone—this musical remains dark and foreboding, aided by the browns, greys, and blacks that dominate the Kit Kat Club and most of the costumes. Only Sally stands out with her big cow eyes, lipstick, and green fingernail polish.

Into the world of decadence arrives Brian Roberts (Michael York), a well-mannered, low key Cambridge man looking for a room to rent in Sally's boarding house. She quickly befriends him and convinces him to split the rent to her large apartment, but it's soon apparent that she has more than economics and friendship in mind. Sally makes advances that no one could mistake (when was the last time a woman deliberately put your hand on her left breast?), only to be turned down. She queries whether he sleeps with girls, to which he responds that his three attempts met with disaster.

No problem, she resolves that they can remain good friends. It's 1972, so such a direct reference to homosexuality is rather unusual in American releases—it turns out that Brian is bi-sexual since those three girls were "just the wrong three girls." His sexuality is made clearer with an extended close-up of the three faces in a visually pure menage e trois—Sally, Brian, and Maximilian (Helmut Griem) and later in one of the most memorable verbal exchanges about the couple both "screwing" Max. Cabaret never has the feeling of typical Broadway musicals that all will turn out bright and sunny by the last reel.

Darkness broods inside Cabaret, and Fosse crafts a film that puts Baz Luhrmann's gaudy and garish Moulin Rouge to shame—Fosse's darkness is bathed in reality instead of glitter. Without resorting to glittery swirling shots and pointless songs, Fosse creates a much tighter film, seamlessly blending the songs into the landscape and capturing the nightlife with imaginative framing shots between legs, tables, and patrons.

The costuming, sets, and lighting inside the cabaret give the feeling of decadent fun while outside the Nazis become more and more menacing—initially caricatured, then shown brutally beating up the opposition, and finally dominating the populace, most graphically depicted during a chilling song performed in bright sunlight. This is where the young blue-eyed, blond Aryan tenor begins "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" with most of the crowd joining in the rousing chorus about the "Fatherland". Although it re-vitalizes patriotic fervor in most of the Germans, one elderly man sits glumly—no doubt disgusted with Nazi policy, and Brian leaves with Max, realizing that the Nazi tide is peaking uncontrollably.

Much of the somber mood relies on our own imagination—not difficult when the history of Hitler's Germany remains common knowledge. We know what the future will bring, so scenes with the financially strapped Fritz Wendel (Fritz Wepper), who decides Natalia Landauer (Marisa Berenson), daughter of wealthy Jewish businessman, become especially poignant. She suspects that he's a "gold digger" but the two actually fall in love. But being Jewish in Berlin in the 30s is becoming increasingly dangerous. Does Fritz disregard the cover he has devised to hide his Jewish identity to marry the woman he loves? And if so, what kind of future can they expect?

But can any relationship work in such a dysfunctional state. Outside, Nazi thugs beat up people who oppose them, and don't even show mercy with pet dogs. But inside the cabaret the troubles are gone and the shows continue, but for how long? Distorted reflections inside the cabaret reveal more and more swastika-wearing Nazis hanging out at the Kit Kat Klub, signaling eventual doom of the good times.

Fortunately, Bob Fosse captures the atmosphere incredibly with a multi-layered musical that continues to hold up over the years. Come back thirty years from now and see how many scenes from Moulin Rouge you give a rat's ass about! Leave your troubles behind—escape the empty, overwrought musicals of Baz Luhrmann and check out Liza and Joel's Kit Kat Klub instead.