A conversation piece by MLS student Keely Moggach

During the winter break, recovering from exams and enjoying some rare free time, I found myself binging musicals. As a Bachelor of Music graduate currently completing the JD, I was both delighted and unnerved at composer Bob Kander and lyricist Fredd Ebb’s musical portrayal of the criminal justice system in Chicago. Delighted, because Kander’s use of rhythm, orchestration and voicing is fiendishly clever, yet unnerved at how desolate a picture he creates of a system that is anything but just. The composition of ‘We Both Reached for the Gun’ is a stellar example of art and the justice system being brought into conversation with one another.

Those who have seen the musical will know the stars of this number are the ‘silver tongued’ lawyer Billy Flynn, and his murderess client Roxie Hart. Kander masterfully employs a number of musical and narrative devices in portraying Flynn’s ability to seize the spotlight and twist facts in remarkable feats of litigious virtuosity. Due to subtle performance differences across musicals, for this analysis I’ve relied on the scene from Rob Marshall’s 2002 film starring Richard Gere and Renée Zellweger. Readers may wish to listen along!

From the piece’s onset, the audience is thrust into a catchy, brass-heavy four-beat tune, characterised by a two-bar call and response dialogue between the reporters and Roxie, through whom Flynn speaks as her ventriloquist. Immediately striking is Kander’s clever use of rhythm to characterise Flynn’s role on the press conference ‘stage’. The reporters and “Roxie” begin their question/answer dialogue, consistently speaking on the second quaver beat of each bar. However, from the moment Flynn speaks not as Roxie, but as himself (but she was granted one more start!), he interjects on the final quaver of the preceding bar. In other words, we have a musical illustration of Flynn literally ‘jumping ahead’ of the narrative shaping Roxie’s testimony for the press. This interjection sets the tone for Flynn’s role onstage for the rest of the scene – not a passive mouthpiece, but a meticulous tactician.

The question/answer dialogue continues, and the reporters and “Roxie” resume conversing on the second quaver beat of each bar in a mechanical pattern. Put simply, they do not speak on the beat, but just after. Flynn, however, embellishes her story by interjecting directly on the beat (and he stole my heart away, convinced me to elope, one day!). Kander’s use of rhythm is subtle and clever. By establishing a consistent rhythm governing the dialogue of the press conference, he has laid out some compositional ‘rules’ by which the characters interact. We have to appreciate Kander’s sense of humour in ensuring the lawyer is the only character unbound by the compositional ‘laws’ governing the show. Not only does Flynn speak on the beat, but the orchestration momentarily halts when he does so; another breaking of the aforementioned musical pattern.

This ‘breaking’ of compositional rules is a continual theme for Flynn. He speaks again on the beat as ‘Roxie’ (still I said Fred move along!), once again suspending the orchestration. As the number progresses, Flynn interjects, again as himself (He had strength and she had none!) on beat one. Flynn’s ability to speak on beat one, regardless whether it’s as himself or Roxie, is significant. The beat is a driving force in music, acting as both a compositional skeleton and pulse. The fact that Flynn alone can disrupt the established rhythm, selectively centre himself on the beat while others are sidelined, or halt the orchestra, emphasises his role as the central, driving force of the dialogue and his control over the narrative. The score thus accentuates Flynn’s manipulative proclivities and highlights the power dynamic between lawyer and client.

The feverish chorus is quickly soothed by the rolling lyricism of the waltz interlude, where Billy Flynn delves into a ludicrous consolation of the ostensibly traumatised Roxie. The emphasised syllables ‘for the gun’ in the preceding chorus subtly reiterate the three gunshots Roxie fires in the earliest scene of the film. Those emphatic three syllables also foreshadow the ensuing three-beat waltz. Through these compositional choices, Kander illustrates Flynn’s ability to exploit his client’s crime, and spin her three gunshots into a catchy, enthralling spectacle designed to titillate his audience. Just as the suave lyricism of the waltz soothes the brashness of the chorus, Flynn’s lie that Roxie and Fred ‘both reached for the gun’ smoothly, yet with growing insistence, glosses over the truth of Fred’s murder. The buoyant flounce of the waltz, paired with string and woodwind instrumentation so at odds with the heavy brass of the previous tune, is undeniably cheesy, poking fun at the absurdity of Roxie’s exaggerated and sycophantic testimony. Richard Gere as Flynn eventually abandons the rhythmic cycle entirely when he proclaims feverishly near the piece’s climax, ‘When we both reached for the gun!’ For the first time, it is not yet clear whose voice Flynn is speaking with – his own or Roxie’s. This lyrical melding of voices seemingly renders Flynn as guilty as his client.

The picture painted of the criminal justice system is not a flattering one, yet theatre and music
have for centuries provided a timeless space for social and political critique. The song is an
outstanding example of how musical composition can denote power structures across sex,
class and politics. While a catchy tune that at first glance seems designed to evoke humour,
the compositional genius in ‘We Both Reached For The Gun’ also renders it a thoughtful and
critical portrayal of the potential for the legal system to be abused by ‘silver tongued’ lawyers
more interested in fame and power than justice.