All That Jazz (Fosse, 1979)

Fosse’s meditation on his own life feels extremely self indulgent despite the less than flattering self-portrait (womanizer, booze-hound, irresponsible father).  The choreography and dance numbers aren’t as interesting as they want to be and the fantasy sequences/Fellini self-reflexivity feels dated and misguided. Schieder’s tortured performance and Alan Heim’s break neck editing admirably keep the film afloat, but Fosse’s vision doesn’t stand the test of time. He’s just not that interesting a tragic figure.

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