Fred Ebb's brilliant "Cabaret" has an unusual "I Want" song; Sally Bowles is performing. She is not actually sharing her inner monologue. But the lyrics do shed light on her emotional life. We're aware, right away, that she is in a tug-of-war; she is stuck between her superego and her id.
Please, sir, if you run into my mother...
Don't reveal my indiscretion...
Just leave well enough alone...
Hush up!
Don't tell Mama.
Shush up!
Don't tell Mama.
Let's trust one another:
Keep this from my mother.
Though my dance is not against the law....
A part of Sally does want to be a functioning, responsible adult. (If this weren't the case, her big number might be called, "Mama Can Go Fuck Herself.") We see Sally flirting with the idea of healthy living--leading a guy on, considering parenthood, making concrete plans--but, ultimately, self-sabotage is too much fun. When Sally torpedoes her love affair, she does it in an especially thoughtless way, and her parting line is perfect (and perfectly shallow): "I've just never really cared about Paris."
Sally's lover, Cliff, kind of understands what is happening (all along). His early declaration of pseudo-happiness is (intentionally) chilling:
Why should I wake up?
Why waste a drop of the wine?
Don't I adore you--
And aren't you mine?
Maybe I'll someday be lonely again...
But why should I wake up?
Why should I wake up--till then?
Although Cliff is our avatar, and, ostensibly, the lead character in this show, he never really draws attention. The actor never gets a Tony Award. (By contrast, the emcee wins, Sally sometimes wins, Herr Schultz can win, even Fraulein Kost can win.) By removing Cliff's important solo number, Rebecca Frecknall really hollows out an already problematic character. It's an unfortunate decision. If she does this to make more room for Eddie Redmayne solos, that's unwise, too; Redmayne is giving a flashy but mostly forgettable performance, and you may wish he'd occasionally shut up and redirect the spotlight to Cliff's apartment (or to the busy downstairs lobby).
When Sally gets her abortion, she neglects to forewarn the important people in her life, and she sacrifices her warm (warm-ish?) winter coat. When we last see her, she is almost freezing, and it's easy to imagine that she may not be around for long. "When I go, I'm going like Elsie..." Gayle Rankin is wonderful in these final scenes: salty, defiant, smart, hopeless, devastated. She made me think of Amy Winehouse.
What a strange subject for a musical, and no one can write the way Fred Ebb writes.
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