Chicago Playbook for Chicago 10

We Both Reached For The Gun

On the way to the press conference, we see Billy and Roxie walking as Billy reminds Roxie that “we can only sell them one idea at a time” as they are doing a final run through of her lines. The camera pans up to catch a glimpse of Fame painted above one of the arches of the courthouse as they pass. Indeed, this will be Roxie’s first glimpse of fame, and it is the only scene in the entire movie where we see anything like a sunny day. The majority of the movie either takes inside the prison, the courthouse, or a theater, imaginary or otherwise, with the outdoor scenes occurring at night or under grey overcast skies—the press conference on the courthouse steps is the only exception.

Roxie sees that Billy is getting all the attention and tries to speak for herself, messing up terribly, as she mixes Billy’s entomological metaphors. He steps in and takes control telling her to “shut up dummy,” which turns into the "press conference rag," a wonderful indictment of the press and the legal system. In the song, “We Both Reached for the Gun,” we see who is really pulling the strings. Billy is not only the ventriloquist to Roxie’s dummy, but the puppetmaster of the press as well. Roxie looks like a plastic doll and Billy talks for her, and manipulates her expressions and gestures with ease. He courts the press, and they all dance together. Billy also dances a duet with Miss Sunshine, a pushover sob sister who spins things his way.

This song reveals the shadowy symbiotic relationship between the press and the legal profession, especially in this case, the criminal defense bar. There is a surreal quality to this song with Billy behind the scenes pulling the strings of the press who are portrayed as marionettes. Billy has masterfully staged the press conference, as he will later stage the trial, manipulating everything and everyone. Billy is Roxie’s mouthpiece and puts his words in her mouth, getting the most important message out to the press through repetition, Roxie's self-defense excuse: “We both reached for the gun.” Along the way Billy portrays Roxie as the victim of unfortunate childhood events, a runaway marriage, and the combination of jazz and liquor. Billy can be seen as Roxie’s animus, putting words in her mouth. Later on, she becomes animus possessed and convinced that she is the one doing all the thinking and coming up with all the good ideas, which almost spells disaster for her.

In “We Both Reached for the Gun,” as in the other songs, there is a back and forth movement between reality and Roxie’s fantasy, again metaphorically revealing the truth. Billy is master at pulling strings, whose color is red, the same color as the prisoners’ costumes and feathery accoutrements in “All I Care About,” as well as the scarves in “Cell Block Tango.” As we go on, we will be seeing more red.

This number surrealistically shows another aspect of play, mimesis or mimicry, one of Caillois’s (1958/2001) four categories of games. Mimicing, repeating the same thing back, like miming, acting out, imitating, copying, mirroring, and impersonating are all related to mimesis—imitation. Mimesis is also the mode of poetry that was banned by Plato from the polis.

Children learn through mimesis and repetition, and Billy makes sure to repeat the theme that “they both reached for the gun,” until he is sure that it has stuck and the press parrot it back to him. Repetition is a key component in play too. Freud, as we have seen, pointed out repetitious play's role in providing a feeling of control and mastery over anxiety-producing situations. It also bears repeating that the psyche loves repetition, and is compelled to keep repeating. ∆RC[ch19]

After the song finishes, we see the effects of Billy's spin in the headlines, as the papers roll off the press. Billy’s messages, or “talking points” as they are called now, have become their headlines. The spin machine is now in full swing and it has created a new reality out of Billy’s fiction. We see newsreels covering the auction, showing Roxie’s rising fame and notoriety, with papers actually spinning around, showing us how Roxie’s fame has swept the Windy City with Roxie inspired styles and merchandise. “Across town,” we are reminded of the other side, the prosecutor threatens that Roxie “will swing before the year is out” as the announcer mentions what this might do for District Attorney Harrison's political aspirations to be governor.

Billy Flynn is a Hermes-like Trickster, who has an amazing ability to spin stories, manipulating meanings and situations to his advantage. According to Combs and Holland (2001), Hermes's

manner has the impish charm of cunning and magic. There is a flavor of roguish enchantment to the situations he orchestrates… this mysterious side is seen in Hermes, who was often associated with night and the sense of magic that can accompany the night. This sense, however, is not limited to the night alone, but can also appear by day, “as a sudden darkening or an enigmatic smile.” This mystery of night seen by day, this magic darkness in the bright sunlight, is the realm of Hermes. (p. 104)

Tricksters sometimes do things that end up backfiring on them. Billy is no exception, because with Roxie, as he will soon find out, he has created a monster.

Roxie

When we next see Roxie, Mama is in her cell directing the guards. Mama has been making calls for Roxie, but Roxie’s attitude toward Mama has changed to one of mild disdain and savvy cynicism. Roxie is now a media celebrity and wears a beige silk robe, as opposed to Velma’s black one. The Hunyak is now doing Roxie’s laundry, as she did Velma's laundry before.

Roxie gets caught up in all of the publicity and starts to believe her own press. Although Mama tells her: “killing Fred Casely was your act, those stiffs just want to say they saw somebody famous.” Roxie replies “I’m too good for that.” Roxie’s inflation has begun and her signature song begins with her describing her prior life to Mama, whose laughter turns into the laughter of the audience in Roxie's imaginal act. Jung said that compensation of the conscious attitude is one of the functions of dreams, while Freud felt that dreams were merely wish fulfillment, both apply here.

Roxie begins her act with a bit of background, telling us, the audience, that she is going to tell us the truth, adding “not that the truth really matters,” which is lucky, because what we see is not the truth, but her dream. Her imagination is compensating for her real life. Roxie confides that she always wanted to have an act of her own, but “No, No. No. No. No. They always turned me down. It was one big world full of ‘No.’” If Billy gets her off, she imagines, “with all this publicity, now, I got me a world full of ‘Yes!’” ∆RC[ch20]

Roxie’s fantasy of her act, and her previous search for an identity, a "signature bit," the filmmakers tell us is perhaps what also makes Chicago still so pertinent: “It's essential universally—everyone has to figure out their act in life and get it across the footlights” (Marshall, 2003b, DVD).

Roxie has been both consciously and unconsciously imitating Velma. Her new “act,” fashioned by Billy is a fantasy that she is starting to believe in and as her imagination soars, she becomes inflated. As she sings her song “Roxie,” mirrors figure in frequently and play a major part, revealing and reflecting Roxie’s rampant narcissism. There are mirrors and allusions to mirrors everywhere, and the mirrors multiply as the number progresses. The filmmakers note that this is the biggest stage of all: Roxie's dream is coming true in her mind on this vast expanse of stage. This expansion, in psychological terms reflects an inflation, which occurs when the ego identifies with non-human energies and forces, which almost never turns out well. Stealing the fire of the gods is a punishable offense. Look what happened to Prometheus. Sharp (2001) explicates:

Every step toward greater consciousness creates a kind of Promethean guilt. Through self-knowledge, the gods, are as it were, robbed of their fire; that is, something that was the property of unconscious powers is torn out of its natural context and subordinated to the whims of the conscious mind. The one who has “stolen” the new knowledge becomes alienated from others. The pain of this loneliness is the vengeance of the gods, for never again can one return to the fold. (p. 120)

Whenever unconscious elements become conscious, Sharp (2001) explains, inflation often occurs, resulting “in an enlargement of the personality,” which, he notes is “an unavoidable concomitant of realizing new things about oneself. Inflation is a psychological phenomenon that involves an extension of the personality beyond individual limits… an unwarranted extension of oneself, whimsically bestowed by others.” (p. 119). Jung says that “an inflated consciousness is always egocentric and conscious of nothing but its own existence" (Jung, 1952/1980, p. 480, para 563). This is certainly the case with Roxie. She has identified now with her persona and is flying high on press clippings. Jung (1952/1980) warns of the dangers of this:

It [an inflated consciousness] is incapable of learning from the past, incapable of understanding contemporary events, and incapable of drawing right conclusions about the future. It is hypnotized by itself and therefore cannot be argued with. It inevitably dooms itself to calamities that must strike it dead. Paradoxically enough, inflation is a regression of consciousness into unconsciousness. This always happens when consciousness takes too many unconscious contents upon itself and loses the faculty of discrimination, the sine qua non of all consciousness. (pp. 480-481, para 563).

Roxie plays to the mirrors and she gets back her own reflection. The stage floor is also black with a mirror finish, reminiscent of Roxie's first fantasy number, "Funny Honey," where her reflection gleams in a much smaller black reflective surface, the piano. The much larger black stage floor suggests that her self-absorption has expanded exponentially. Roxie's costume is also made of mirror-like crystals or diamond-like sequins, shiny and reflective. We see Roxie’s reflection everywhere. A wall of mirrors rises up and reveals tuxedo-clad men behind her, surrounding Roxie with adulation, as they sing Roxie's praises with her. Roxie even waxes a bit psychological in her song, explaining:

I’m a star! / And the audience loves me! / And I love them / And they love me for loving them /And I love them for loving me / And we love each other / And that’s because none of us / Got enough love in our childhoods / And that’s showbiz / Kid.

Perhaps, our obsession with stars and the culture of celebrity might possibly be a call to return to our cosmic origins. Romanyshyn’s (2000a, casette; 2000b, lecture) view of the metaphorical nature of the soul suggests that a kind of cosmic longing could be what is behind all of this. The soul has been in exile and seeks to return. Romanyshyn notes that the soul has been repressed, having fallen into the abyss, and returns in symptoms and dreams. So Roxie’s dream and the symptom of star worship could indeed signal this return.

Roxie is flying high, and as she sings, we see her name in big red neon lights, then she and her name begin to ascend, leaving the men below, bathed in red light. Remember, red, our old friend alluding to guilt, the red light bathing the men suggests that they too are complicit with Roxie, whose red name reminds us of her culpability. Roxie sings “who says that murder’s not an art?” Then in a little bit of wordplay, she double entendres: “and who in case she doesn’t hang, can say she started with a bang (literally referring to the shooting of Fred, and figuratively referring to an explosive, volatile, unpredictable success). All of the press that Billy has generated has been dazzling; Roxie has achieved meteoric stardom almost overnight. Perhaps Fred was right after-all she is a “star, a shooting star.” The only problem with that prophetic metaphor, is that shooting stars are notoriously short-lived and fleeting, as is fame. No wonder Roxie has gotten caught up in her fantasy, believing her own press—it is all very dazzling, rapid and brilliant, as the song shows. She has gotten lost in her own reflection and so it is no accident that nemesis is nearing. Meanwhile, back in Mama’s office . . . .

I Can’t Do It Alone

Velma is having a hard time with Roxie’s success. All she hears about everywhere is Roxie, and when Mama appears from below her desk sporting a blond bob imitating Roxie’s, Velma knows she is in trouble, major trouble. Mama tells Velma that her tour has been cancelled, because Velma has been out of the spotlight for too long—due to Roxie. Mama advises Velma that "sucking up" to Roxie like everyone else couldn’t hurt. Velma’s initial reaction: “over my dead body” gives her pause as she says it. Since Velma realizes that she is now the underdog, she takes Mama’s advice, bringing caramels and compliments to Roxie as a peace offering.

Roxie is busy cutting out her press clippings, which she cannot keep up with because they are so voluminous, when Velma offers to share the spotlight and do an act together. Velma has now realized, “I can’t do it alone,” unlike her attitude at the beginning of the film. In Roxie’s mind Velma’s offer and approach becomes an “act of desperation,” which again is metaphorically true in more ways than one. Although Roxie pretends otherwise, she is still impressed by Velma, who is truly talented. But Roxie has emulated Velma to perfection and now the shoe is on the other foot, and Roxie rebuffs Velma: “You’re all washed up, and its me they want and I’m a bit star—single.” The tables have turned, and Roxie now dishes back what she got from Velma at the beginning. Velma gets a taste of her own medicine after Roxie spurns the partnership offer and the candy, Roxie advises Velma: “lay off the caramels.” Rubbing it in even more she mentions to Velma “your name was in the papers, too, in the back near the obituaries—Velma Kelly’s trial has been postponed indefinitely—seven words, wow.” Her message is clear: you’re dead. ∆RC[ch21]

Continued on page 11