Leonard Maltin gave Bob Fosse's autobiographical "All That Jazz" 2 1/2 stars, underrating the film because of its excesses. For example, co-writer, subject, co-producer, director and choreographer Fosse produces an endless endling, overloaded with songs, dances and drama.
Roy Scheider plays a brilliant and self-destructive theater & film director Fosse modeled after himself. The film's final death sequence goes on for 20 minutes or so; its many scenes are fascinating ("8 1/2"-ish) to look at, but too many to fully enjoy.
There's the operation to save "Fosse"; Ben Vareen's swarmy song and dance tribute to "Fosse"; "Fosse" the movie director shooting "Fosse" the patient; at least three separate dance numbers, each building on the other, as "Fosse" hallucinates others' commentaries on his life (with one number straight out of Busby Berkely). It goes on and on. Each is beautiful, perhaps a little too heavy with meaning, but always absorbing.
Leading up to that, we see "Fosse" not so much juggling as diving in and diving out of relationships with his ex-wife, a new young lover, an long-time faithful lover, his new musical, his new movie and his pre-teen daughter. In between he rumages through his life with Jessica Lange, a beautiful, dressed-in-white angel of death.
The film portrays "Fosse" too simplistically: a creative genious and a failed, albeit charming, human being. Mere contradictions don't make for subtleties.
But its portrayal of show business's inner workings -- dance rehearsals, film editing, business dealings -- are totally absorbing. An oh-so-young John Lithgow's appearance as a director who might take over from "Fosse" oozes enough phony sincerety to grease a hundred frying pans.
And throughout, the film has a rich visual style that ranges from appropriately glitzy to dream-like to straight dramatic.
Finally, the dance numbers, specially staged for the camera, reveal that dance can be cinematic instead of static.
The brilliant dancing and musical scenes clearly override Fosse's instinct to overdo and overtell. This 19-year-old movie, even when seen on cable TV (in a letterboxed version) has more in it, and more to it, that all of today's over-budgeted, underfed blockblusers.
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