Originally written as one of those "Facebook Notes" on August 2, 2014, but there's no reason not to resuscitate the content for this blog, given what a black hole Notes became. 

All That Jazz (Bob Fosse, 1980) 

All That Jazz is probably in my top 10 list of all-time favourite movies. I know that’s odd, and I don’t make any universal claims for its greatness, but the way it entered my life and gave me direction where film, dance and creativity are concerned.

I'm away for a few days watching the tail end of Meredith's time at The Performing Arts Project (TPAP), an unusually enlightened and creative intensive, as they call it, that takes place at Wake Forest University. It's given me reason to recall All That Jazz and the special energy that the performing arts requires and engenders. There's none of the cruelty here, just a bit of the narcissism, and none of the self-destructiveness. However, spending a few days with TPAP crowd, with their single-minded commitment to being involved in musical theatre, reminds me that Fosse's obsession rubbed off on me: this film was one of a small handful of titles that came out 1978-1980 that kick started my film obsession. And, because I knew close to nothing about musicals, neither Broadway nor Hollywood, this made it all appealing to me. Sure, the self-destructiveness of Scheider/Fosse hooked me, but I was equally interested in his restless personality, and his polymorphous creative spirit. So we are far away from All That Jazz at TPAP, but the polymorphous creative spirit is definitely the name of the game. Participants write songs, sing songs, act, improvise, choreograph, dance, collaborate, go their own way, get real. 

When I saw All That Jazz the first time, it was during that great period of my life - high school - where I was a blank slate. I was different. I wanted to be different. I also wanted to blend in, but it was no use, so allowed myself to be different. Mainly I was a blank slate. 

So when George Edelstein, my grade 11 Mass Media teacher (the same one who turned me on to Heaven’s Gate) mentioned to the class that he had seen this film, and that it was Fosse’s 8 1/2, but that some people don’t like it because they don’t like Fosse’s gymnastic style of dance, but that Roy Scheider was great in the title role which was modelled on Fosse himself. I was intrigued because a) I didn’t know who Fosse was b) I didn’t know who Roy Scheider was c) I didn’t know anything about dance so whether Fosse’s approach to choreography was good or not was irrelevant d) I didn’t know what 8 1/2 was. I had an inkling it was by Fellini but I had never seen it or any Fellini films before. 

I went to see it with my friend Scott Hutchison, one of my only good friends from high school who never came back into my life in any way. I think he's a prosecuting attorney now. Back in high school he was definitely interested in "advanced culture" so we moved from comics and science-fiction together to more challenging forms of literature and film. I sometimes forgot that Scott was along for that ride. Until Kim, Lisa, Wendi, and Sara came into my life, I didn't have a lot of other people to join me on this journey. Dave Keyes. That was about it. 

I loved the film the minute it started. Benson’s version of “On Broadway” is woven into the film so that it belongs to Fosse and has ever since 1980. Same with that Vivaldi piece: when I hear it, I think of Visine, dexedrine, and “It’s showtime folks.” Same with “Bye, Bye Love,” which always suggests “Bye, Bye Life” to me no matter who's singing it. 

"A Perfect Day" (Harry Nilsson), "Everything Old is New Again" (Peter Allen), "There's No Business Like Show Business" (Ethel Merman) are also inextricably part of this film for me. 

This is the film that pretty much introduced dance to me and I feel lucky for that. I wasn’t about to get exposure any other way but discovered, after this film, that I could learn a lot through the movies and, ever since that time, I’ve been a huge fan of directors that choreograph for and with the camera and the cut, as opposed to simply canning great dance performances. Gene Kelly is the genius in this regard (especially in Singin’ in the Rain and An American in Paris), but Fosse is his equal here, and in Cabaret (maybe an even better film, but not as personally important to me), Sweet Charity, and then that TV special Liza with a Z. 

The film version of Chicago, as entertaining as it is, demonstrates the depth of Fosse’s genius because with it, we are simply watching great stage choreography captured on film, as opposed to using the nature of film itself (camera movement, the close-up, the wide shot, cutting, the special nature of time in cinema, etc.) to do what can’t be done on stage. 

So here I fell in love with dance, and checked it out in classic Hollywood musicals, in avant-garde films by Maya Deren and many others, in animated films by Norman McLaren, documentaries on Merce Cunningham by Charles Atlas and Elliott…, and in video art. Eventually I got over my fear of live theatre and started checking out all manner of dance performances in Toronto (and even a performance by Cunningham + Co. in New York. 

It started here though, with that obsessive, quirky and delightful choreography, never repeated by anyone without being called “Fosse dance”. I envied the romance of the dance studio, the workaholic nature of it all, the perfectionism, and the beauty. 

I kind of wanted to be a guy like Scheider like Fosse. Sometimes I still think it would be convenient: how much more I could get done if I could only be like that. Except, of course, that he neglects those closest to him, and they in turn distance themselves, and he’s never happy, and the work finally kills him without necessarily redeeming him. And he was  a dick, which I might be, as well, but it’s not my plan. 

I eventually saw 8 1/2, too, and it’s definitely one of the best films of all time, an infinitely richer film than All That Jazz, but I prefer All that Jazz.