It seems easiest to talk about the life of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti in the language of color and dance. And so it is unfurled before us, a theatrical feat titled simply “Fela!,” a dazzling display of the eccentric biography of Fela Kuti, notorious Nigerian firebrand and international music icon. From the moment the music starts, we are warmly welcomed “na de” Shrine, the kind of seedy, hard-to-find nightclub that seemed to define the late ’70s music scene everywhere. It’s here, in the rougher part of Lagos, where we are instantly drawn into another world — a red-hot galaxy of sultry female dancers and dirty guitars, a naughty little club where the politics are as bright as the notes of the wailing horns and the stage is lit up almost as much as the dancers.
You might have to be born with, or at the very least, have an inclination toward, a sense of humor to fully appreciate all of the clever nuances imbued in the story of “Fela!” If not, then just sit back and enjoy the pulsating beats and anti-establishment commentary. You’ll still get the point.
| Onstage |
| ‘Fela!’ |
| Where: Shakespeare Theatre Company, Sidney Harman Hall, 610 F Street, NW |
| When: To October 9, 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Sundays; 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday |
| Info: $25 to $13, 202-547-1122, shakespearetheatre.org |
That’s all left in the hands Sahr Ngaujah, who introduces himself as the larger-than-life Kuti. Framed by relevant news clippings and complementary headlines projected on all sides of the stage, it is solely Ngaujah’s job to drive home the history behind Kuti’s storied Afrobeats.
In that sense, “Fela!” could be a literate drama, the exhausting story of a political rebel arrested over 200 times, knocked against the peaceful protest embodied by the albums created in Kuti’s lifetime. But just as Kuti did little to ease the political unrest in his home country, “Fela!” ultimately does little to illuminate the emblematic philosophy of its namesake.
For all its amped-up, non-linear storytelling, “Fela!” is, at times, as abstract as its music is literal, as realistic as its dancing is poetic ± a confusing mesh of reality and fantasy. And when a show boasts producers by the likes of Jay-Z and Will and Jada Pinkett Smith, the audience is practically built-in — yet with all of that star money backing “Fela!,” the irony is that it seems a touch overproduced and, sadly, underdeveloped.
Still, “if you stayed for the music and the fashion, then you’re in luck,” promises Ngaujah at the top of the second act. Because it’s there, in the swirling heat of its exotic costumes and otherworldly dancers, where the heart of “Fela!” lies.
Truly, “Fela!” is a ballet of politics and art, mingling the harsh commodities of government and power with the beauty and aesthetics of music and dance. “Fela!” does not disappoint, and Ngaujah and his crew of phenomenal dancers elevate the story beyond a two-dimensional history lesson. But “Fela!” isn’t marketed as a ballet, and with such a large catalogue of music to choose from, it practically wrote its own score. Just like its very subject, it seems comfortable intersecting two very different worlds.
