You walk into a theater and there’s a giant neon sign glowing "Willkommen." It’s flashy. It’s loud. There’s a guy in heavy white face paint and a tuxedo jacket that’s a little too small, telling you that inside the Kit Kat Klub, life is beautiful. But the thing about what is Cabaret the musical about is that it’s actually a trap. It starts as a party and ends as a funeral. Honestly, if you leave the theater feeling "happy," the production probably did something wrong.
The show is a shapeshifter. Since it first hit Broadway in 1966, it has evolved from a somewhat traditional book musical into something much more visceral and terrifying. It’s based on Christopher Isherwood’s 1939 novel Goodbye to Berlin and the subsequent play I Am a Camera by John Van Druten. Basically, it’s a semi-autobiographical look at the dying days of the Weimar Republic.
The Core Story: A Tale of Two Couples
At its heart, the plot follows Clifford Bradshaw, a struggling American novelist who arrives in Berlin on New Year’s Eve, 1929. He’s looking for "it"—inspiration, life, maybe himself. He meets Ernst Ludwig, a friendly German who turns out to be a Nazi smuggler, and ends up at a boarding house run by Fräulein Schneider.
Then there’s Sally Bowles.
Sally is a second-rate British singer at the Kit Kat Klub. She’s charming, delusional, and desperately trying to ignore the world burning down around her. She moves in with Cliff. They have a messy, complicated romance that is doomed from the start because Sally refuses to look at the "politics" of the real world.
While the "A-plot" is about Cliff and Sally, the "B-plot" is where the real heartbreak lives. Fräulein Schneider falls in love with Herr Schultz, a Jewish fruit seller. It’s sweet. It’s elderly love. They sing about pineapples. But as the Nazi party gains power, the reality of their situation becomes a wall they can’t climb over. Schneider realizes that marrying a Jew means losing her business and her safety. She chooses survival over love. It’s one of the most devastating arcs in musical theater because it shows how "normal" people eventually gave in to the pressure of fascism.
What is Cabaret the Musical About Conceptually?
If you ask a theater historian, they’ll tell you Cabaret is the definitive "concept musical." This was a huge shift in the 1960s. Instead of just having songs that move the plot forward, Cabaret uses the Kit Kat Klub performances as a commentary on the outside world.
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The Emcee is the master of ceremonies. He isn't a "character" in the traditional sense. He doesn't go home and have dinner. He is the spirit of Berlin. When he sings "Money," he’s mocking the economic collapse. When he dances with a gorilla in "If You Could See Her," he’s making a satirical (and horrifying) point about anti-Semitism.
The music, written by John Kander and Fred Ebb, is intentionally pastiche. It sounds like authentic 1920s German jazz and vaudeville. But the lyrics are sharp as a razor. You're tapping your feet to a catchy tune while the words are literally describing the end of civilization.
Why the 1993/1998 Revivals Changed Everything
For a long time, Cabaret was a bit more sanitized. The 1972 movie with Liza Minnelli is iconic, but it’s very different from the stage show. Liza was too good a singer; Sally Bowles is supposed to be mediocre. Liza made it a star vehicle.
Then Sam Mendes came along in the 90s.
He reimagined the show at the Donmar Warehouse, and later on Broadway with Alan Cumming as the Emcee. This version stripped away the glamour. The Kit Kat Klub became a seedy, drug-fueled, dangerous basement. The ending became much more explicit. Instead of just a metaphorical "curtain falling," the 1998 revival ended with the Emcee stripping off his clothes to reveal a concentration camp uniform with a yellow star and a pink triangle.
It forced the audience to realize that the party they had been enjoying for two hours led directly to the Holocaust. It’s a gut punch. You realize you were the "complacent" audience that the show was mocking.
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The Role of the Emcee
We have to talk about the Emcee. He is the barometer of the show. In the first act, he’s your best friend. He’s naughty, he’s gender-fluid, he’s funny. He represents the wild, free, hedonistic Berlin of the 1920s where people could be whoever they wanted.
By the second act, he changes.
He might appear in a Nazi armband, or he might become cold and distant. He is the personification of the shifting political climate. By the time the show reaches its climax, the Emcee is no longer in control. The "Willkommen" reprise at the end is usually distorted and haunting. The fun is over.
Key Themes You Can't Ignore
- Apathy and Denial: Sally Bowles is the queen of denial. Her famous song "Cabaret" is often misunderstood as an anthem of empowerment. It’s actually a breakdown. She’s choosing to stay in a "dream world" while her friends are fleeing for their lives.
- The Banality of Evil: The character of Ernst Ludwig isn't a cartoon villain. He’s polite. He helps Cliff find a room. He’s "nice." That’s the point. The rise of the Third Reich wasn't just monsters in the shadows; it was your neighbors.
- Economic Despair: The show sets the stage by showing a Germany broken by the Treaty of Versailles and hyperinflation. People were desperate, and the Kit Kat Klub was the only place they could afford to feel rich for an hour.
Is Cabaret Based on a True Story?
Sort of. Christopher Isherwood really did live in Berlin at Nollendorfstrasse 17. His landlady, Fraulein Thurau, became Fraulein Schneider. Jean Ross, a 19-year-old cabaret singer he knew, became the basis for Sally Bowles.
Isherwood famously said Ross was a much tougher, less "talented" person than the characters usually portrayed on stage. She was a committed Communist in real life, which is a detail the musical largely omits to focus on her flightiness. The "Jewelers and Fruit Sellers" subplot was added by the musical's creators to give the show its moral backbone.
What to Watch For in Modern Productions
If you’re seeing Cabaret today—perhaps the recent West End or Broadway revival starring Eddie Redmayne or Adam Lambert—notice how they handle the "audience participation."
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Usually, the performers will interact with the people in the front rows. They might sit on your lap or pull you up to dance. This isn't just for fun. It’s designed to make you an accomplice. If you’re laughing at the Emcee’s dirty jokes in the first act, you’re part of the club. When the club turns into a nightmare, you’re trapped in it with them.
The set design usually features mirrors. This was a masterstroke by Harold Prince in the original 1966 production. He wanted the audience to see themselves reflected in the sleaze of the Kit Kat Klub. He wanted them to ask: "What would I have done?"
How to Engage Further with the Story
If you want to truly understand the world of the show, there are a few things you should do next:
- Read "Goodbye to Berlin": Isherwood’s prose is sparse and haunting. It gives much more historical context to the poverty and desperation of the era.
- Compare the Movie and the Stage Show: Watch the 1972 Bob Fosse film, then listen to the 1998 Broadway cast recording. Notice how the movie focuses on the individual characters, while the stage show focuses on the "Concept" of the club.
- Research the Weimar Republic: Understanding the incredible artistic and sexual freedom of 1920s Berlin makes the eventual Nazi takeover feel even more tragic. It wasn't just a change in government; it was the systematic murder of a culture.
- Listen to "Tomorrow Belongs to Me": This is perhaps the most chilling song in the show. It starts as a beautiful, innocent folk song sung by a boy. By the end, it’s a terrifying Nazi anthem. It’s a perfect example of how beauty can be weaponized.
Cabaret remains relevant because history has a nasty habit of repeating itself. It reminds us that "it can't happen here" is a dangerous thing to believe. The show is a warning wrapped in sequins and fishnets. If you're going to see it, don't expect a simple night of entertainment. Expect to be challenged. Expect to be uncomfortable. And definitely expect to have the songs stuck in your head for weeks, even the ones that make your skin crawl.
When people ask what is Cabaret the musical about, the short answer is Berlin in 1930. The long answer is about how quickly humanity can lose its way when it's too busy looking at the stage to notice the exits are being locked.
The next step is simple: find a recording of the 1998 revival or go see a local professional production. Pay close attention to the lyrics of "I Don't Care Much." It’s the unofficial heart of the show’s nihilism. Once you hear it, the whole "life is a cabaret" line feels very, very different.