Chicago is a hell of a modern musical, cynical, satirical and dark. Canberra Philharmonic are well on their way to catching much of this, in a tightly directed version that draws on vaudeville and a large multi-skilled cast for much of its energy.

In 1920s Chicago, chorus girl Roxie Hart (Vanessa de Jager) shoots her philandering lover dead. There's absolutely no doubt she did it, right there in front of the audience. In prison awaiting trial she seems to have no real sense of her peril but she certainly wants out and is quick to gain the services of corruptible lawyer Billy Flynn (Will Huang). He is already acting for Velma Kelly (Kelly Roberts), another murderess, who is not happy to see Roxie gain the attention of the voracious press at the expense of her case.

Matters take a darker turn when the first execution of a female prisoner in decades takes place. Roxie's trial is a farce with Billy manipulating everyone and every piece of evidence in sight. Only Roxie's sad-sack husband Amos (Jonathan Rush) thinks she is telling the truth.

There's much to enjoy here, from Rush's bemused Amos in the lonely number Mr Cellophane to Matron Mama Morton (Shell Tully) and Velma's cynical duet Class. Billy Flynn's entrance is covered with feather fans and showgirls in Busby Berkeley patterns and Huang makes the most of this slick but venal character.

The press with the deceptively genteel Mary Sunshine (Ben Wilson) at their head thunder around the stage in pursuit of the latest crime sensation, and the latest personality to promote.

Set and lighting do their best to keep up and over to one side of the stage musical director Chris Ronan and the band do an excellent job energising the show with the score.

The production has tremendous drive, possibly too much for some of the more subtle moments to hit the mark. Occasionally the ensemble swamps the stage with individuality. There is so much in the way of juggling, contortion and acrobatics going on during Razzle Dazzle, for example, that the focus on Huang's Billy is surprisingly in danger of being lost.

But the drive of it all is hard to resist, as are the jazz and feathers and sequins and Brechtian cynicism. And as Roxie and Velma, de Jager and Roberts make a superb leading double act, singing, dancing and sparring, yet at the end joining forces magnificently to remind the audience of the darknesses of life. This Chicago has some power.