"Ladies and gentlemen, you are about to see a story of murder, greed, corruption, violence, exploitation, adultery and treachery," beckons the opening line of "Chicago." All of that was most certainly present and accounted for as the famed Fosse-fueled musical started its week-long run at the Marcus Center on Tuesday night.

But for a show in which sin is near and dear to its heart, there wasn’t much sinful about the evening’s performance – and for "Chicago," that feels like a sin in its own right. The skin and slinky costumes were all dressed up, but the sly sexiness stayed on the rack. The Chicago prison and courtroom were decorated with dangerous femmes fatales, but the actual danger was out on bail.

A musical with this many legendary showstoppers – not to mention Bob Fosse’s signature style – can’t help but be entertaining, but this rendition was more broad than biting, almost kitsch rather than crackle. It’s fun, but no flimflam flummox that’ll fool and fracture ‘em. Billy Flynn would be disappointed.

Whether a fan of past performances or its Oscar-winning film adaptation, the plot is exactly how you remember it. After starry-eyed seductress Roxie Hart (Dylis Croman) gets locked up for shooting her sleazy man on the side, she turns her internment into the trial of the young century – and essentially an audition for vaudeville stardom. Unfortunately, that’s everyone’s plan in Cook County Jail – namely the vampy Velma Kelly (Terra C. MacLeod). The two duke it out for the most salacious headlines in an era of reporters getting spun like tops, insta-celebrities, fake news and putting reads above all else. So no, definitely nothing relevant to today.

Helping write their storylines to freedom (for a generous fee, of course) is lawyer extraordinaire Billy Flynn, played by – surprise! – former football star Eddie George who – less surprise! – paled in comparison to his more-seasoned stage performers. His vocals were on the weak end – in particular lost in the crowd during "Razzle Dazzle," which seemed just a touch high for his range – and those hoping to see the former Tennessee Titan tap or do his best Rashad Jennings impression likely left feeling sufficiently juked out.

The role is no stranger to those more famous than perhaps fitting – Olympic skater Elvis Stojko, for instance – and George relied more on that celeb status, as well as his dapper suit, to convey the slick, high-class huckster than his shaky, slight acting abilities.

That being said, by no means did George embarrass himself on the Marcus stage. He’s certainly got more personality and presence than other football players who’ve dabbled in showbiz, and he clearly had a hoot with the one-man double-act of "We Both Reached for the Gun" – including hitting and holding one of the song’s big final notes. He’s certainly a work-in-progress, but given time and the right roles, he could evolve from gimmick casting to good casting.

While George may hog many of the headlines – the show’s marketing certainly heeds the show’s message – "Chicago," as always, belongs to the leading ladies, and Tuesday night’s devilish divas were more than up to the task. From her first moments, seductively slinking to the front of the stage on "All That Jazz," MacLeod does her damnedest to give the show the sly, wry verve it deserves, complete with a bold, brassy voice that rings like one of the on-stage band’s trumpets.

Her only competition for the spotlight is, well, her competition in the show, Croman’s Roxie, played as a pendulum rocking constantly between nefarious and naïve. She’s just as sharp with the music and movements as her counterpart, and when the time comes for her self-titled show-stopper of a tune, it deservedly does exactly that, with her giddy mix of Vaudeville comedy chops and fine footwork. "Chicago" gives its villainous vixens a lot to chew on – and MacLeod and Croman rarely missed a chance to bite.

With its two leads on fire, everything would then seem to be in place for a trip to "Chicago" worth remembering. And yet something about Tuesday night’s performance felt oddly slack. The staging and lighting – from John Lee Beatty and Ken Billington, respectively – all looked fittingly shadowy and seductive, lone lightbulbs and spotlights sinfully cutting through blood reds, and the choreography featured all of the dramatic Fosse hat tips, sleek angles and jazzy gyrations one would expect. And yet it all felt like the appearance of attitude rather than the feel, a lot of snapping on stage with little snap.

While Fosse’s reputation often rests on sharpness and cool, Tuesday’s "Chicago" felt bigger, broader and – by the time a member of the jury was lewdly rolling around seemingly deserving a trial of his own – sillier. The result muggingly underlined the wry humor rather than putting in italics, put the obvious in bold rather than digging for more.

Paul Vogt’s take on Roxie’s poor yoyo-ing husband Amos, for instance, was more cartoonishly dopey than just simple and love-drunk – and so, when "Mister Cellophane" came around, save for a sad button at the end, it felt like an emotionally vacant halt. The same unfortunately went for the "Cell Block Tango," usually a fierce and blackly funny number of murderesses preaching their sins rendered weirdly limp.

When one of the actresses told her tale of stabbing her husband, the punchline was delivered with such overt goofiness, you’d never think she could kill anybody – a problem with the whole song and, in the end, the whole show.

There was a lot of ham, but rarely a knife to cut through it. Unfortunately, that lack of sharpness eventually invaded the technical booth by the end too, with a crackling microphone sadly interrupting the final punchline of C. Newcomer’s turn as Mary Sunshine.

By the time the second act opened with the on-stage music director going nuts conducting his band, complete with the characters sitting barely off stage jamming along – maybe in character, probably not – the performance’s inspiration seemed fully its rowdy, bawdy Vaudeville setting than its cool crime dark comedy story. And that’s fine, really; that’s still a fun time at the theater – especially Roxie’s eventually testament on the stand, brought to life like live-action Looney Tunes.

But, to borrow the "Cell Block Tango" ladies’ tools of the trade, it was more two shotgun blasts to the head than the cool cut of a knife or the slithery sinister venom of arsenic: It did the job – just maybe bigger, louder and messier than preferred. 

"Chicago" will play at the Marcus Center for the Performing Arts now through April 30. For more information on showtimes and tickets, visit the Marcus Center's website.