Chicago

There's a new irony to the show that's kept London's bowler hat and black hosiery business afloat for the last nine years. Velma still spits feline fury that Roxie has knocked her off the top spot as Chicago's favourite murderess. Billy Flynn still winks his way through the city's rotten judicial system, with a series of razzle-dazzling rhetorical heists. Mama Morton retains Sapphic sway in the clink, and Amos remains doe-eyed and dolorous as Roxie's long-suffering, cuckolded husband.

But when Flynn warns Roxie of the fleeting, illusory nature of her ill-gotten fame, the line begins to garner a curious double meaning. Currently inhabiting the immortal roles are 'America's favourite sweetheart' Ashlee Simpson, as Roxie, and X factor's Brenda Edwards as Mama Morton, two in a long line of celebrities to don the fishnets and sashay out onto Chicago's stage, their fame seeming every bit as precarious as that of the characters they play.

It's a sign of the indomitable strength of Walter Bobbie's seemingly unsinkable production that the questionable talent of some of the stars doesn't matter in the slightest. Musically, it's airtight: John Kander and Fred Ebb's score sizzles with timeless class, and Ann Reinking pays perfect tribute to Bob Fosse's original 1975, iconic choreography. Fosse and Ebb's book also holds up superbly: the knowing, metadramatic fashion in which Roxie's crime and punishment is told refusing to let the story age by a day.

Amra-Faye Wright is a stunning, brittle Velma, Julian Sims perfectly inhabits the sagging shoulders of Amos, and Ian Kelsey holds the central scenes together superbly as the greasy Billy Flynn. The supporting cast are all, without exception, flawless. A biting satire on fame, capital punishment, and all that jazz, Chicago delivers its high-heeled kick on every front; as slick, sleek and sassy a West End musical as anyone could hope for.