Earlier this week, I went to see the current production of Cabaret running on Broadway. Newly transferred from the West End, it seems the main goal of the production is to wrap you up in the spectacle of a seedy 1930s nightclub- from your entry down a neon-lit alleyway, to the beaded curtains and wooden paneling of the winding hallways where the pre-show takes place, to even the stage itself, small and wooden and surrounded on all sides by velvet seats and fringed chandeliers. But I left not impressed by the production design, but with the timeless quality of the story itself.
The 1966 musical, written by Kander and Ebb, and set against the backdrop of 1930s Berlin, delves into the lives of a variety of characters navigating Weimar-era Germany, as the Nazi party slowly comes into power. Beyond its dazzling spectacle, "Cabaret" shows the dangers of detachment from one’s societal surroundings; the Kit Kat Club is a fleeting distraction from looming darkness.
One theme that Cabaret illustrates particularly well is that total radicalization is never quick and immediate. The most terrifying part of hatred and fascism is how insidious it is. This is particularly shown through the character of Ernst Ludwig, initially seeming like a charming and good-natured friend to the hero of the story, and eventually ending up as as a fervent Nazi sympathizer. This was one of the most effective parts of the production of Cabaret I saw; the moment when Ernst removes his jacket at the wedding party to reveal a red swastika armband, soliciting gasps from the audience. But the worst part is that all the signs were there- we, the audience as well as the characters just were not paying attention. Nazis weren’t faceless monsters- they were human beings with friends who might not have dreamed they were capable of what they did.
This is how Cabaret serves as a cautionary tale for modern audiences, as a stark reminder of the consequences of complacency. As the Emcee declares, "Leave your troubles outside! So, life is disappointing? Forget it! We have no troubles here." But beyond the confines of the Kit Kat Club lies a world teetering on the brink of chaos, where the repercussions of apathy are all too real.
History is cyclical. When Cabaret was written, WWII was a fresh memory, as recent as 9/11 might seem to us now. And as it fades into a distant past, what we can’t do is let these atrocities be forgotten, or allowed to happen again. But the willing blindness of those unaffected by tragedy may well lead to history repeating itself once more, if we let it.