'Chicago' at 50: From Bold to Brand—Are Today’s Audiences Listening to its Message?

by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder

This June, Chicago turns 50.

Let’s pause on that for a second. Half a century since Gwen Verdon and Chita Rivera stepped into those legendary roles and Fosse’s sharp choreography slinked onto the stage. Fifty years of murder, media, and somehow, it still feels just as relevant today as it did in 1975. Maybe even more so.

There’s no denying Chicago is a landmark. It’s one of the most recognizable titles in musical theatre—smart and unapologetically satirical. Before “true crime” was a podcast genre, Chicago was holding up a mirror to our obsession with fame and spectacle. It had something to say, and it said it with grit, glitter, and a Kander & Ebb score that’s still as punchy as ever.

While the original production had a solid run, it wasn’t until the 1996 Broadway revival that Chicago became what we now know it to be: a full-on phenomenon. That production is still running, still packing in audiences, still relying on a bare stage, a band, a few chairs, and a whole lot of attitude. There are no projections, no set changes, just storytelling, choreography, and chemistry.

That revival has outlasted nearly everything else. As of now, Chicago is the longest-running American musical in Broadway history. That’s not nothing. It’s a testament to the material and the machine that keeps it moving.

And I’ll be honest—Chicago still works. It still slaps. That score? Iconic. Those first notes of “All That Jazz” are instantly recognizable to anyone who’s ever done a warm-up, sat through a tech rehearsal, or dreamed of being center stage in a black leotard and heels.

“Cell Block Tango”? A theatre kid rite of passage. (And I still love how the Socia(lities) parodied this back in 2020)

“Razzle Dazzle”? Equal parts critique and crowd-pleaser.

But here’s where I start to ask questions.

Because when a show runs for this long—when it becomes a brand, a must-see for tourists, and a rotating door for celebrity cameos—it risks softening the very thing that made it bold in the first place.

Chicago is supposed to make us a little uncomfortable. It’s a show about how the justice system can be a performance, how media spins stories, and how women are pitted against each other and still find a way to survive. That message is sharp. But when it’s replayed night after night for mass appeal, does it still land the same way?

Are we still engaging with what Chicago is trying to say? Or are we just vibing to “Hot Honey Rag” and calling it a night?

Also worth noting is the stunt casting model that Chicago helped pioneer. It’s been both a gift and a challenge. On one hand, it’s provided incredible opportunities for performers—particularly women over 40—to step into the spotlight. That’s something Broadway has needed for a long time. On the other hand, it’s turned the show into a bit of a revolving door. Some guest stars absolutely bring it(looking at you, Pamela Anderson). Others, well, let’s just say the integrity of the storytelling doesn’t always come first(ahem, Jerry Springer).

And that matters. Because underneath the sparkle, Chicago is a story about survival. It’s about performers—specifically women—navigating a world that sees them as disposable unless they’re marketable. When done right, it’s devastatingly timely. But it requires intention. You can’t autopilot this one with casting that makes no sense or distracts from the point.

That said, I’ll always have a soft spot for Chicago. It’s a masterclass in how to make more with less. For dancers especially, it’s aspirational. You study Fosse. You learn the lines. You know the chair choreography before you ever step into a rehearsal room. It’s one of those shows that makes you fall in love with the craft.

So yes, I’m celebrating Chicago this June. I’m celebrating its endurance, its artistry, its guts. But I’m also acknowledging how the show has shifted over time—and what that says about Broadway, audiences, and the stories we keep telling.

Fifty years is a big deal. It is long enough to be a classic and long enough to become a machine. It is also long enough to pause and ask: Is the message still coming through the glitter?

Here’s to Chicago at 50. May it keep dazzling—and may we keep listening.