Cabaret at the Ellen Theatre

Angie Ripple


This July 10–27, the Ellen Theatre lights up with Cabaret — a boundary-pushing Broadway classic set in the shadowy, glittering cabarets of 1930s Berlin. Montana TheatreWorks celebrates its 30th summer season with a production that’s as timely as it is thrilling, returning to the Ellen stage with bold storytelling and a stark warning from history.

With thousand of patrons drawn to past musicals at the Ellen —Mary Poppins, Oklahoma!, Fiddler on the Roof, Annie — this rendition of Cabaret is not merely a nostalgic reprise. It features fresh‑faced New York performers injected into the talented local cast, elevating the production with a professional edge and widening its emotional reach.

Inside this historic Ellen Theatre, built in 1919 and recently lovingly preserved, you’ll revisit Cabaret’s Kit Kat Klub of 1930s Berlin, an underworld of glitter and desire perched precariously above a society sinking into extremism. Cabaret is more than entertainment—it is a lament for a world unraveling, and at this particular moment, its cautionary tale is painfully contemporary.

The musical’s subject matter has long been distilled through the arresting lens of composer John Kander and lyricist Fred Ebb: Marlene Dietrich’s anthem “Maybe This Time,” the cynical glide of “Willkommen,” and the unbearable tenderness of “If You Could See Her.” The characters—Sally Bowles, Clifford Bradshaw, Ernst Ludwig, Fraulein Schneider—are men and women whose lives are upended when politics becomes personal, when the monstrous seeps into the mundane, when laughter and horror clash in the same breath.

Why Cabaret Matters Now

In 2025, amid geopolitical tremors, societal fractures, and a renewed awareness of hate resurfacing in new forms, Cabaret’s visceral reminder—that every regime slithered into power by tolerance of harmless amusements—rings uncomfortably true. Here, a character says with chilling clarity: “Don’t tell me, tell me how you feel.” It is the cunning call of complicity; inaction cloaked in apathy.

We live in an era where bigotry disguises itself as tradition, misinformation spreads through social media more swiftly than songs through dance clubs. As Cabaret draws its audience into dimly-lit spectacle of dancing heels and satirical flourish, it also drags us, reluctantly, to the brink of recognition, and our laughter can pave dangerous roads.

Bringing Cabaret to our mountain town is truly a civic gesture. It says: “We trust this community to hold discomfort. We trust you to hear the laughter in the lips of something terrible and still choose clarity.”

You may arrive expecting a feel‑good classic, but instead, you’ll encounter an indictment of silence, indifference, and “it can’t happen here.” And in the same moment, you will get a glimpse of resilience in Sally’s defiance, in Bradshaw’s idealism, and in the cast’s collective heart onstage and in the breathless hush between moments.

Why You Should Go

Cabaret reminds us that art can ask more than it gives, and art can demand our vigilance. If you care about democracy, if you think kindness matters, if you fear the slow creep of dehumanization—plan an evening in Bozeman’s downtown theater.

Cabaret’s tales are not resolved, and they are unresolved by design. It leaves questions on the table: Will we dance while the world burns? Will we turn aside, or will we speak?

This July at the Ellen Theatre, Cabaret isn’t just a musical. It is a summons—to see, to feel, to respond. And in the echo of its last chords, when the house lights rise and a stray melody still echoes, the world outside feels less like a stage—and more like a responsibility.

Tickets are already moving fast at www.theellentheatre.com, don’t get burned by a ticket reselling site, all seats directly from the Ellen range from $34 to $66. Whether you’re a longtime theatre devotee or someone searching for a story that makes you feel something deeper than escapism, Cabaret offers a night of artistry.

Please note: Due to mature themes, this show is recommended for adult audiences. Parental guidance is advised for youth 17 and under. The show has a running time of approximately 2 hours and 45 minutes, which includes one 15-minute intermission.    

This was made by