I recently saw a local stage production of Cabaret and then spent a surprising amount of time thinking about that production and about the show. The first time that I saw Cabaret on stage was also a local production, one of the first theatre musicals I had ever seen. I loved it (and was startled later when a local critic - the Boston Globe's Kevin Kelly, I believe - cited it as one of the worst Boston-area productions of the year).
Much of the reason that I was so fascinated by this recent performance was because of escalating incidents of anti-semitism, both locally and throughout the world. It is impossible to watch Cabaret and not think that this could happen again. And, of course, growing overt prejudice is not limited to that against Jews; here in the United States, as well as over much of the Earth, there have been incidents of murderous hate aimed at Muslims, Latin-Americans, people of color, people of different sexual orientations, people who do not conform to whatever the accepted norm for a particular society may be.
Much of Cabaret is a very traditional musical, with two pairs of lovers. It is, I think, uncommon that both couples are, forced by circumstance and their own natures, separated at the end of the show. But what made this such an outstanding musical is that much of it has a social-political aspect, recording the growing power of the Nazi party in Germany in the early 1930s, and the reaction - or lack thereof - in Germany and around the world.
I found the show upsetting. I read some material about it and found that there was a book about how the show came to be and how it has subsequently been performed. That book is The Making of Cabaret, by Keith Garebian.
Unfortunately, I did not realize that the edition that I purchased was from 1999 and that the book had been revised since then. The last new edition was apparently in 2011 and seems to be 80-100 pages longer than the 1999 version. As I write this in 2019, there are 50 ratings of the book on Goodreads, all but one three stars or more, and all assigned since 2012. I suspect that most of these 50 people are reviewing some edition of the book later than the one I read.
This edition ends (rather abruptly) with a discussion of the much-lauded 1986 Broadway production directed by Sam Mendes and starring Natasha Richardson as Sally and Alan Cumming as the Master of Ceremonies. There are only five illustrations in the book, all photographs related to the original Broadway production.
Although I do suspect that later editions of the book might be even better, this one has much fascinating material. Readers learn a lot about the earlier careers of many of the people who united to make Cabaret. There is also, of course, a considerable amount of material about what went into crafting the play - writing, composing music and lyrics, casting, set design, lighting, costumes, financing, directing, acting, the million things that go into the making of a musical play. Why did the viewpoint character, originally named after the author of the book from which all this was based, the British writer Christopher Isherwood, become an American named Clifford Bradshaw? Joseph Masteroff, who wrote the libretto, was "more comfortable writing an American than an Englishman." After the director, Harold Prince, had rejected the song "Cabaret," how did it get back in the show? The choreographer, Ron Field, heard it, loved it, and convinced Prince to use it.
Of course this would be a better book at twice the length. Surely there were disagreements among the principals at times; it would be good to see how those arose and how they were resolved. Did people not argue about cutting the most powerful line in the play, from the "gorilla" number? (It was back in the production that I recently saw.) The book could surely use an index, more illustrations, song lyrics - and some (or all) of these might be present in subsequent editions. Even without those things, this is a valuable look at an important and moving musical play.