Singing in never-ending corridors; a refrigerator filled with blood behind the wig shelf; twittering fairies glide through the canteen; timpani, trumpets, and the omnipresent voice over the loudspeaker. Prompting, grand soliloquies and absurd dialogues. Every gesture counts. Below the stage, on massive hoists, a jubilant chorus floats upwards: “The Singing City.” The film uses ...
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