Age advisory: This show contains scenes that may be considered suitable for ages 18 and older, including sexual content, strong language, and/or intense violence.
Synopsis:
Fela! explores the extravagant, decadent and rebellious world of Afrobeat legend Fela Anikulapo Kuti. Using his pioneering music (a blend of jazz, funk and African rhythm and harmonies), the musical reveals Kuti’s controversial life as an artist and political activist.
Conceived by Bill T. Jones, Jim Lewis & Stephen Hendel, Fela! explores the life of Nigerian artist/activist/composer-performer Fela Anikulapo Kuti.
Location:
Eugene O’Neill Theatre
230 West 49th Street
New York, NY 10019
Performance Dates:
Previews began October 19, 2009
Opened November 23, 2009
Length:
Two hours and 40 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission
Fela is simply “Felawful!” This pseudo biographical/politcal play with “music” fails to impress, elucidate, or pack an emotional punch. Musically, it is overly simplistic, minimilistic, and repetitive, and is insulting to cultivated theatergoers. Although billed as an “original” score, there is nothing “new” about so called afro-beat. Indeed, one can hear sub terrain kids in the subway banging on garbage cans who are far more adroit. Don’t expect to be singing show tunes 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 in the monotonous, insistent. and verbose score. It is a musical abyss.
The show is likewise devoid of dancing. Shaking one’s ass to the point of delirium while doubled over is more akin to ferrel animals or drunk teenagers than professional dancers. Moreover, asking blue haired seniors from the suburbs to stand in an attempt to teach them an afro version of the Hokey Pokey is about as entertaining as a clown at a child’s birthday party. If I had a choice, I’d take the clown.
Don’t expect an enlightening account of Fela’s life, because the libretto is conspicuously devoid. Instead, Fela attempts to merely replicate a concert, which is loosely tied with haphazard and hollow vignettes. Accordingly, the libretto is incapable of forwarding the action or integrate music, because there isn’t any. In addition, the show glosses over relevant descriptive information. It discounts Fela’s multitude of wives, and fails to explicate his AIDS related death. Instead, the show meekly attempts to leave an “impression,” indicating the creators failed to put effort into content. The residue is utterly meaningless, and negates the essence of this fascinating performer and political activist. As a result, the audience is denied any sense of authenticity, and subsequently any sense of authentic emotion. The only thing I felt was an uncontrolled desire to leave, which many people justifiably did both before and during intermission.
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 a bass heavy boom, boom, boom, like a rude driver who feels compelled to turn his stereo to the max. Cognizant of this fact, the producers opted to flash the unintelligible lyrics on a plasma screen behind the performers. However, if you are sitting on side right of left of the stage, the screen is not fully visible, and only adds a sense of frustration. Because the show was amplified to the point of ad nauseum, it is best to visit a ubiquitous Rite Aid and pick up several packs of ear plugs.
In all, Fela is a disgraceful mess. It attacks and rapes the pedagogical traditions of musical theater, while masquerading as a bona fide Broadway show. It is uncreative, unoriginal, and unsophisticated, limiting its accessibility to the uninformed, pseudo intellectuals, and European tourists who can not fluidly communicate in English. It is recalcitrant, antithetical, and incompatible to the honored and revered traditions of the Great White Way.
But its difference does not translate into something good. Fela fails because it does not live up to Broadway’s reputable caliber. Accordingly, It is nothing more than an overblown and overhyped “Felop!”
Fela is simply “Felawful!” This pseudo biographical/politcal play with “music” fails to impress, elucidate, or pack an emotional punch. Musically, it is overly simplistic, minimilistic, and repetitive, and is insulting to cultivated theatergoers. Although billed as an “original” score, there is nothing “new” about so called afro-beat. Indeed, one can hear sub terrain kids in the subway banging on garbage cans who are far more adroit. Don’t expect to be singing show tunes 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 in the monotonous, insistent. and verbose score. It is a musical abyss.
The show is likewise devoid of dancing. Shaking one’s ass to the point of delirium while doubled over is more akin to ferrel animals or drunk teenagers than professional dancers. Moreover, asking blue haired seniors from the suburbs to stand in an attempt to teach them an afro version of the Hokey Pokey is about as entertaining as a clown at a child’s birthday party. If I had a choice, I’d take the clown.
Don’t expect an enlightening account of Fela’s life, because the libretto is conspicuously devoid. Instead, Fela attempts to merely replicate a concert, which is loosely tied with haphazard and hollow vignettes. Accordingly, the libretto is incapable of forwarding the action or integrate music, because there isn’t any. In addition, the show glosses over relevant descriptive information. It discounts Fela’s multitude of wives, and fails to explicate his AIDS related death. Instead, the show meekly attempts to leave an “impression,” indicating the creators failed to put effort into content. The residue is utterly meaningless, and negates the essence of this fascinating performer and political activist. As a result, the audience is denied any sense of authenticity, and subsequently any sense of authentic emotion. The only thing I felt was an uncontrolled desire to leave, which many people justifiably did both before and during intermission.
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 a bass heavy boom, boom, boom, like a rude driver who feels compelled to turn his stereo to the max. Cognizant of this fact, the producers opted to flash the unintelligible lyrics on a plasma screen behind the performers. However, if you are sitting on side right of left of the stage, the screen is not fully visible, and only adds a sense of frustration. Because the show was amplified to the point of ad nauseum, it is best to visit a ubiquitous Rite Aid and pick up several packs of ear plugs.
In all, Fela is a disgraceful mess. It attacks and rapes the pedagogical traditions of musical theater, while masquerading as a bona fide Broadway show. It is uncreative, unoriginal, and unsophisticated, limiting its accessibility to the uninformed, pseudo intellectuals, and European tourists who can not fluidly communicate in English. It is recalcitrant, antithetical, and incompatible to the honored and revered traditions of the Great White Way.
But its difference does not translate into something good. Fela fails because it does not live up to Broadway’s reputable caliber. Accordingly, It is nothing more than an overblown and overhyped “Felop!”
Posted by paul | April 15, 2010, 8:30 pm