In the film Chicago I didn't know why Mama chose to give Roxy Billy Flynn's number. Then I recently thought about it. Billy knows there's too much publicity to get Velma off on a jury trial, so he asks Mama to find someone. He sets Roxy up as the 'sweetest little jazz killer', Velma vanishes from the papers; Billy can cut a plea-bargain for his original client. He really is the best lawyer.
The black woman whose husband ran into her knife ten times probably did it out of self defence. But she’s black, so she still goes to prison, natch.
It's always heavily implied that all of the Cellblock Tango girls is guilty, with the exception of Hunyak who can't speak English. The running into the knife TEN TIMES is like someone fell down an elevator onto some bullets. There is nowhere in the script that calls for June, that particular character, to be African-American. The real racism comes through with Hunyak as they don't even bother getting her a translator and condemn her to death without her own testimony.
She's not in prison, she's in jail. All of them are still apparently awaiting trial or still in the trial process, and when you're awaiting trial and can't make bail, you're in jail. You go to prison if you've been tried, found guilty, and sentenced to prison.
And yet while the Hungarian woman was in that same prison/jail place, she was executed.
I doubt that stabbing a man ten (10) times counts as self-defence, black or not.
She mentions that he stormed into the kitchen, screaming at her and accusing her of adultery. It's never established if he was correct, but it's not hard to imagine that she may have genuinely feared for her safety at that point.
Also, it bears repeating that she stabbed him ten times. The first maybe was accidental, the next few probably in self-defense, but 10 times just seems like she had a good rhythm going by the time she ran out of steam. Or places to put a wound.
The opening number "And All That Jazz" seems like a really cool opening number. The line I'm no one's wife but, oh I love my life seems just like a cool, feminist thing to say... until you realize she just murdered her husband.
Reading "Hunyak's" translation from the Hungarian, she says that she doesn't know why she's in prison, and mentions her "famous lover." What if her lover's fame is what got her case attention in the first place — in this case, attention that led to her unjust execution? It would make her story a dark and complete Inversion of Roxie's quest to find fame via murder.
Amosdoesn't! Though as a lowly mechanic who'd saved up enough to shower affection on his undeserving wife, his quality of life probably wouldn't change too badly. And with Roxie out of his life, maybe he could find a good woman deserving of his time.
Besides, if he's smart, he can sell off all of Roxie's mementos, leaving him better off than he was when the play started (if by no other reasoning than "he's free of Roxie for good.").
Throughout the film, we see musical numbers taking place on an imaginary stage in the characters' minds. At the end of the film, Velma and Roxie perform a wildly successful show to an adoring audience. But... Is that their real performance at all? Or is it their imaginations?...
Compare Roxie's singing in the last musical number to her singing for her audition (after the imaginary sequence). Big difference, hm?
Even if you look at the difference between "Nowadays" and the "Hot Honey Rag" sequence (which appear In That Order in the musical), the difference is very pronounced.
Personally, I always took it as real. The fantasy sequences are always made apparent within the movie if they are fantasies, and the last one seems to be very real, similar in style to "All That Jazz"- full audience, no surreal effects like having the performers completely isolated onstage or the scene just not making sense. Plus this troper just plain likes it better as a better ending, as it shows just how blind we as the public is willing to be sometimes to the reality of a celebrity's actions as long as they're still entertaining.
Chicago can basically be described as a film that trashes the rise and fall of stars, and the hype machine that makes them. So of course the movie won 6 academy awards. Does Hollywood recognize its own flaws, or is it actually that dumb?
It's called "irony at its best."
Not quite. Chicago's stars are "phony celebrities" who did nothing to deserve their fame and are basically a freak show. The film deserved these awards.
And even if it were solely dedicated to trashing Hollywood that doesn't mean that it can't still be a film worthy of winning six awards.
Also, Hollywood loves movies addressing how troubled fame and the stage or screen are. The Artist, Ray, The Social Network, Black Swan, King's Speech, Lincoln, Frost/Nixon, The Aviator — you'll find Sunset Boulevard on almost any list of "100 Best Films." Ironically, Hollywood's favorite subject is, in a sense, how messed up Hollywood is.