'Fela!' on Broadway: Moving the masses

Note to producers worried about the tough economics of Broadway: If you can’t get a big-name movie star to anchor your show, consider enlisting a groundbreaking choreographer to liven things up.

“Fela!”, the most exuberant new musical I’ve seen this fall, may not have a “name” cast. But it has in Bill T. Jones, who directed and choreographed this work about the life of Nigerian musician, composer and activist Fela Anikulapo-Kuti (known as Fela), a theatrical sensibility capable of steeping an entire audience in the compulsive full-body experience of Afrobeat, which Fela pioneered.

Featuring a book by Jones and Jim Lewis and the pulsating rhythms and radical lyrics of Fela's music, the show, which had its world premiere off-Broadway last year, teaches the American musical new moves. And I’m not just referring to what happens onstage. Like the current Broadway revival of “Hair,” directed by Diane Paulus and choreographed by the cutting-edge Karole Armitage, “Fela!” doesn’t permit theatergoers to sit by passively.

A rousing, always in motion Sahr Ngaujah, who alternates in the title role with Kevin Mambo, enjoins the audience to sing and shake their derrieres along with him. A skimpily clad ensemble streams up and down the aisle to bring the musical's energy directly to us. Differences in age and size are no obstacles as spectators learn to get down West African style: For 2 1/2 bouncy hours, self-consciousness is magically held in abeyance.

As much a concert and a dance piece as it is a musical, “Fela!” is perhaps best described as a work of total theater. More visually and aurally mesmerizing than dramatically stirring, the work achieves a unique build by focusing on the emotion that galvanized this iconic performer to battle political oppression in his African homeland, no matter the colonial or post-colonial source. 

This dissident journey isn't related with anything resembling documentary thoroughness (Fela's run-ins with the authorities are fuzzily presented and there's oddly no mention of his death from AIDS-related causes). But the spirit of his fight for justice is made universally resonant, and the fusion of his sound is rapturously celebrated with a pinwheel parade of pelvises. 
 
By the legerdemain of scenic and costume designer Marina Draghici and projection designer Peter Nigrini, the normally staid Eugene O’Neill Theatre has been converted into the Shrine in Lagos, Nigeria, where Fela has gathered his fans for his final concert there. ("Too much Nigeria will give you broken heads, burned houses, dead students.") The ambience of this club setting aspires to bridge the actor-spectator divide, which makes sense given the way Fela used music to create human solidarity. Antibalas, a dynamic onstage band from Brooklyn, suffuses the house in a sea of compulsive, masterfully arranged sound.
 
Jones’ choreography never lets us lose sight of a fundamental source of our shared humanity, a locus of reliable ecstasy and inevitable suffering: the body. That bond, joyfully explored in his circumambient musical staging, has a grass-roots power, of which the singer knew people must be regularly reminded. Community, after all, is an ongoing work in progress, and tyranny and corruption have recidivistic tendencies that are virtually impossible to root out. Afrobeat, like rap, derives its enormous empowering potential by smuggling lyrics straight into blood and muscle.

Lillias White, a Tony winner for her performance in “The Life,” plays Fela's politically courageous mother, who falls victim to the military authorities harassing her son. She has a rousing number in the second half's afterlife sequence that brings down the house.

But there’s something democratizing about stardom in this show. Those in the spotlight are granted the opportunity to invite the masses to share in the glory — as well as the responsibility — of collective action.

Broadway these days is becoming ever more dependent on celebrities to sell tickets. While Hugh Jackman and Daniel Craig raked in the dough for “A Steady Rain” and Jude Law drove in brisk box office for “Hamlet,” many shows without boldface names, even those that have received ample critical praise, have struggled to stay afloat.

“Fela!” has superstar producers in Shawn “Jay-Z” Carter and Will and Jada Pinkett Smith, but that’s not why this musical event -- ritual is more like it -- is likely to attract repeat visitors. Under Jones’ inclusive vision, the production becomes a party, in which the power of the people is unleashed with a contagious jiggle.  

--Charles McNulty

Photos: Top: Sahr Ngaujah, center, and company. Bottom: Ngaujah, center, and company. Credit: Monique Carboni

Comments

[naija girl]

Y'all tried but didn't do Fela Anikulapo-Kuti "he who carries death in his pouch" justice. Fela was more than just an activist to us Nigerians he was our conscience and voice. he was our MOSES who through his persistence contributed to our freedom from military rule. A fearless hero, though he lived an exuberant lifestyle, he was modest is some ways. I would personally remember him as a hero that he was and still is. e abami edah!!

[paul]

Fela is simply "Felawful!" This pseudo biographical/politcal play with "music" fails to impress, elucidate, or move an educated audience on all fronts. Musically, it is overly simplistic, minimilistic, and repetitive. It is devoid of nuance, wit, and charm. There is nothing "new" about so called afro-beat, and one can hear musicians in the subway banging on garbage cans who do a far more credible job. Moreover, don't expect to be singing a tune on the way out of the Eugene O'Neil, who is rollng over in his grave, Theater. There isn't anything remotely melodic, harmonic, or musical to be found in the so called score.

The show is likewise devoid of dancing. Not shake your ass around in a kind of afro Hokey Pokey, which is indeed imposed upon the audience in Act I, but real dancing performed by trained dancers. The lack of artistry is a result of a lack of choreography. Uncontrolled and random gesticulations are not dance. Rather it is something ferrel animals do in the wild, or at The Bronx Zoo, which happily provides far more entertainment for the price.

Also, don't look for a meaningful plot, because there isn't any. Fela is more of a concert loosely tied together with haphazard and hollow vignettes, where gimmicks supplant story. Because there is no book, there is no integration between music and libretto. In addition, the show glosses over important factual information, and does not engage the audience with Fela's death resulting from AIDS. Instead, the show merely attempts to leave an "impression," which indicates the creators did not want to do their homework regarding content. The residue is utterly meaningless, and disgracefully the essence of this fascinating performer and political activist is negated. As a result, the audience is denied any sense of authenticity, and subsequently any sense of authentic emotion. Indeed, the only thing I felt was an uncontrolled desire to leave, which many people justifiably did both before and during the intermission at the performance I attended. Actually, I felt ripped off as well.

Perhaps the worst offense is the fact that Fela is overly loud. You can not understand anything anyone is saying because all you hear is boom, boom, boom, like a rude driver who turns his stereo to the max. Cognizant of this fact, the producers have opted to flash the unintelligible lyrics on a screen, but if you are sitting on side right of left of the stage, the screen is not fully visible. Because the show was amplified to the point of ad nauseum, I immediately went to RIte Aid after the show for Tylenol, ostensibly raising my already over priced ticket by another $3.99. To bad I didn't stop there first for ear plugs.

In all, Fela is a mess. It is an attack on all theatrical sensibilities, yet masquerades itself as a bona fide Broadway show. It is uncreative, unoriginal, and unsophisticated. Be warned, it is strictly for the uneducated masses and pseudo intellectuals. It is devoid of book, music, dance, and has no sense of theatrical artistry. It lacks genuine creative talent, and the untrained performers have little to work with which only augments their inabilities. Moreover, Fela defiles the honored and revered traditions of the Great White Way. Just because something is different, does not mean it is good, Fela fails because it does not live up to Broadway's reputable caliber. As a result, Fela is nothing more than an overblown overhyped "Felop!"