REVIEW: Fela! (Olney Theatre Center / Round House Theatre)
Preview: Yes, you do have to schlep yourself all the way to Olney, MD for this co-production of Fela! — the eponymous jukebox musical about the pioneering Afrobeat musician and activist — that opened on Thursday. I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever been to the town of Olney at all, much less this specific theatre. But know that Olney Theatre Center (OTC) has been around as a DC-area staple for more than eight decades, so there is the expectation to deliver quality theatre. Round House and OTC choosing to collaborate for their season-ending production, and then making it about an activist of this nature (righteous, yet obscenely sexist) was an interesting direction from the start. It’s not a regular musical, he’s not a regular guy. and the sound was anything but regular at the time. A show like this requires a specific vision: you can’t just throw Nigerian aesthetics on top of the music and call it a day. Get topical, get groovy, get rooted in the vibes of not just West African culture, but also American discos and jazz clubs. Perhaps these could play into why this show, critically-acclaimed in New York as it was, hasn’t been produced (anywhere!) in more than a decade? (It was due to hit some regional houses over the years, but Things Kept Happening.) So here we are now: director Lili-Anne Brown finally has the venue and resources to pull together a new production of this vibrant story, and again, yes, you do have to schlep yourself to Olney to see it…but hear me out.
Acting: This is the Fela show, in more than just title. Hell, it’s more like a Fela concert. In fact, the premise of the show is that this is Fela’s final concert, at his Afrika Shrine in Lagos. Thus, whomever is in Fela’s shoes has to be present in his time yet skilled enough to bring us, the audience, in time with him. The suspension of disbelief needs to extend far beyond our visions of the stage; it should permeate the air we breathe in the space. Duain Richmond, who has great familiarity with this role from Broadway and its subsequent tour, show’s off all he’s learned these years and absolutely dominates the production as a result. The audience basically does not stop eating out of his hand from start to end, and if he says jump, we say “How high?”. I was not expecting this to be as engaging of a production as it was, nor do I know if it was written as one (at least not to this level). No matter for Richmond, who improvises in response to audience heckling (more on that later), enforces the destruction of the fourth wall for a dance party, and others. The man is simply built for this role and carries an undeniable swagger that zaps life into even the drabbiest theatergoer. But what if I told you, among all of Richmond’s talents as a performer…that he wasn’t even the best performance in this show? No, this title belongs to Melody A. Betts, whose performance as Fela’s mother Funmilayo is liable for the potential future infrastructure repair needed for the theatre. In all my years of seeing theatre, and in all my…uh, months of attending opening nights, where energy is naturally at its highest, I have never felt as much electric fervor in the room as I did during and after her 11-o-clock “Rain” performance. The place was abso-lutely quaking. Her voice was rich and amplified enough to rattle the rafters alone, but the response she deservedly got from it shook the place to its foundations. Even post-opening night, if you’re not up on your feet by the end of the number, you’re out of your mind. Betts is a terrifyingly powerful force to be reckoned with on that stage and this Act II showcase may be one of my personal favorite experiences in a theatre probably ever. 10/10
Production: I don’t even know where to begin, man. Literally. During the show I was rolodexing my brain for words that could aptly describe what I was seeing, coming up blank each time. My goal here is to get y’all to see this show: let this be the abstract, and forgive me for any word salads or repeats that come around afterward.
Why don’t we start with the set? You see it first, after all. It’s colorfully designed by Arnel Sancianco, whose use of sheet metal and shipping crate textures evoke the DIY, grassroots environment the Shrine was based on. It’s warm, tropical, and inviting; Brown utilizes this by opening centerstage for action, and flanking it with graffiti’d oil drums. Sanciano’s details shine through as well: there’s vintage Fela posters abound, some tucked away but still visible, and protest posters hidden offstage that you’re only lucky to see if you’re on the flank. A nice little treat if you’re not front-and-center. At the top of the stage are some fans, which aesthetically keep the scenery busy when things slow down (though they rarely do). I’ve been in dives in Puerto Rico that evoke the same energy and I was instantly transported. Costumes by Rueben Echoles are incredibly stylish and detailed, from the West African-inspired garb on the ensemble to Fela’s incredibly cool-as-a-cucumber disco jumpsuit, to Funmilayo’s angelic white fit during the climax of the show. EVERYTHING was gorgeous to look at. It helps that the animated lighting, colorfully done by Sherrice Mojgani, makes everyone engaging and ethereal. The patterns on the lights, the use of hue, and its tendency to leave the confines of the stage bring the production to even more life. The eccentricity of how they make the actors’ shadows dance along the wall was pure bliss.
Now that I mention it…..the dancing. I know I said I didn’t know where to begin, but I really don’t know where to begin with this specifically. World-class would be an understatement. Breon Arzell — whom I forgot was a choreographer, even after seeing him in Incendiary this season — has crafted simply incredible routines that captivate like very few shows can ever hope to do. The mix of discotheque moves, hip jerks, traditional Nigerian steps, all combines to make the perfect gumbo of dance theatre. I’ve never seen dance so cohesively stunning in a show like this before. If the show were ONLY Arzell’s choreography with some music, I’d be there. Front row! The ocean of Black bodies in sync, telling Fela’s story atop the already-rich music, was a sight to behold. Tying this all together, of course, was Lili-Anne Brown’s excited direction. The way each slight jolt, each group number was expertly timed to a T was a sight to behold. It’s already good enough that Arzell’s moves could stand on their own, but whose idea was it to bring us into it? That’s right, we can — nay, are encouraged, or even demanded to — dance along. And not just some little shoulder wiggling in the balcony, I’m talking fully instructed choreography from Fela to our ears. I’m also talking improvized heckling - at one point, he smoked a joint, to which an audience member demanded he pass it (to the balcony), to which Fela does an entire bit about there not being enough to share and passing it via “satellite”. I love how much room Richmond has in this role and it fosters a palpable creative energy. I’ve been to “immersive” theatre that has substantially less interaction than Fela! has. Brown’s support of this interaction was paramount to my enjoyment of the show, since it felt like I had permission to vibe with the characters; that Fela was talking to me. Her direction was just a masterclass all around. 10/10
Book/Music: It being more of a concert, I can’t really say this has much of a traditional plot. In essence, Fela walks us through the musicology of Afrobeat and its origins as a tool of resistance against the Nigerian military regime, from his early days as a student to the death of his mother and the raid on the Shrine. In between spats of song, dance, and mingling, events do take place: his travels in Europe, his arrival in America, his torture by the hands of the regime, to name a few. These seem to mostly scooch the plot along so that we can get to the good musical parts. They aren’t done poorly, though; they feel like Fela’s own memories sort of playing out behind his eyes. Yes, the music still goes and the dancers are still on stage, but the action is separate and it’s great at soaking the audience within this narrative. Thus, it can feel as though there’s no “resolution” by the end of the show, even if you’re distracted by the incredible performances. He had died by the time this show was first produced, but it carefully covers a climactic chapter of his story; this was intentional. I thought it served as a nice vehicle to get his impact and personality across within the context of a real-life event, with greater detail than a life-long biography. Musically, the show shines with gorgeous orchestrations by S. Renee Clark (who also conducts on keys). The funk-inspired sound of Afrobeat, with the jive found naturally in global pop music of the era, lavishly surrounds the space. Unlike traditional western musicals, the songs are mostly not multi-minute-long ballads or even ones with greater verse than one or two. Plenty of songs are instrumental while dialogue, or even just dance, happens over top. But let me tell you there is not one bad song. Not even one that’s misplaced! Each song is either dialectic or just a certified bop. No complaints for me here; why write lyrics when the music and the bodies can do the talking? As a bonus treat, the album covers are projected (good work by Kelly Colburn) against the rear of the stage when Fela mentions the era they were in, which was cool for me personally, since now I want to dig deeper into the world of 70’s Afrobeat and know what to look for. 7/10
VisDev: Program cover is a blocky, hand-textured font reading “FELA!”, staged in front of grainy newsprint clips of Fela himself on sax and two dancers. The sax has some scattered. bold sound rays that are a lively touch. The background is a deep, bloodlike red that barely obscures West African artistic patterns. I honestly really like it, even if the red is too urgent for a show that is pretty up-and-down. I think my only real complaint is that there be more colors involved with the chosen aesthetic, given how colorful the production really is. Something more akin to Spider-Punk’s gorgeous 70’s zine-like design from Across the Spider-Verse would have been superb. (I would be VERY surprised if they didn’t use Fela as inspiration for this character). Pre-show staging is open and colorful, with spinning fans to bring signs of use to the space. There’s other, non-Kuti Afrobeat playing in the background for the most part, until the on-stage band arrives and performs something that blurs the line between overture (there isn’t one listed in the song list) and jam session. The vibes were good before, but when these cats hit the stage and start it up, it’s 11 minutes of pure musical enjoyment. Syncopation, groove, tempo, it’s all there and it slaps. Being a big go-go fan it was also a joy to draw comparisons between the energy of this introductory fanfare to something of that. Even if it wasn’t improvised, they did a damn good job of making it seem natural. I’ve already given my props to the musicians here, but it is so good to see them involved pre-show with such aplomb instead of just tuning up. “Y’all better get in your seats and get ready for this one”, said the music. 9/10
