Ultra-fantastical and sometimes fantastic, the eager-to-please, set-to-11, relentlessly stimulating revival of seminal hit “The Wiz” addresses head-on the challenge of audiences who, if bored for even a few seconds, might just start itching for their TikTok feed.
Originally subtitled “The Super Soul Musical,” “The Wiz” became a surprise Broadway smash after an uncertain 1975 premiere, capturing the zeitgeist with its Black pride take on Dorothy and her journey to see the Wizard of Oz, combining this deeply American tale about brains, heart, courage and the search for home with the musical sounds of Motown.
Setting aside the unfortunate film version that followed in 1978 — Diana Ross, Michael Jackson, and let’s not talk about it — the stage show has had plenty of regional, New York, and London revivals since, some more successful than others. NBC’s star-studded live television version was positively received in 2015.
This production is now touring on its way to a Broadway opening in April. It’s directed by Schele Williams, who co-directed the musical version of “The Notebook” at Chicago Shakespeare, which is also headed for a Broadway engagement.
This show presents quite a spectacle. Hannah Beachler’s set design, aided heavily by dominating, high-def backdrop projections from Daniel Brodie and lighting from Ryan J. O’Gara, references the much-treasured 1939 film version with its transition from a black-and-white Kansas to a full-color Oz.
But once in Oz, this is a whole new vision of the fantasy world: kaleidoscopic, eye-popping, trippy, and yet still tethered to childhood. Think Dr. Seuss on acid. As Dorothy (Nichelle Lewis) meets her mates Scarecrow (Avery Wilson), Tinman (Phillip Johnson Richardson), and Lion (Kyle Ramar Freeman), she travels through a series of wildly vibrant landscapes, made even more so — more, more, more! — with equally prismatic costumes from Sharen Davis. I’m torn between calling it exhilarating or exhausting because it’s both; it’s exhilarexhausting.
Amber Ruffin, a comedy writer and talk show host who also co-wrote the book for the musical “Some Like It Hot,” has been afforded liberty to update the dialogue for the show, written by the late William F. Brown, giving it plenty of contemporary references. On the whole, it’s quite funny. The comic highlight perhaps comes a bit early, with Allyson Kate Daniel, as Good Witch of the North Addeperle, joyfully delivering a whole series of darkly comic one-liners about the house-crushed death of Wicked Witch of the East Evamean.
We know we’re in clever hands when Wicked Witch of the West Evillene (Melody A. Betts) learns of her sister’s passing via a crystal ball vision of a graffiti-inspired memorial T-shirt. Freeman’s Lion has plenty of effective comic moments, too, particularly those focused on his mane-oriented vanities.
And the show is certainly musically rousing. Nichelle Lewis, who came to the attention of the casting agents via TikTok, delivers her musical numbers with vocal power and range aplenty. And the cast does exceedingly well by the best-known of the show’s songs: “Ease on Down the Road,” “Everybody Rejoice” (better known as “Brand New Day”), “Believe in Yourself” and “Don’t Nobody Bring Me No Bad News,” sung by Chicago-based Betts.
It’s also true, however, that, like the visuals, the delivery of the lines, and the songs, can come off as pitched too stubbornly at ultra-high intensity. Some performances can flirt, or more, with camp, while Lewis’ Dorothy, when she isn’t singing, can recede into the background. She needs some assistance in developing a presence designed for a big stage and not for a statically positioned camera.
Where the show most succeeds artistically is not with its comedy, or its music, or its designs, but with its dancing. Choreographer JaQuel Knight, best known for his Beyonce music video work, including “Single Ladies,” brings something truly new to the table. First, there’s Richardson’s popping for Tinman’s “Slide Some Oil to Me,” which is both great and makes infinite sense. But even more impressive is this outrageously excellent ensemble. I’ve never seen a Broadway show with a group with this mix of high-level movement skills.
The best 10 to 15 minutes of this show come at the start of Act II with dance number “The Emerald City,” no longer referred to as a ballet because it’s not. The dance vocabulary ranges from twerking to pirouettes, and it comes in several parts, with Alan Mingo Jr.’s Wizard asking for something different in between. This is all just as stimulating as everything else — people won’t be reaching for their phones — and yet without singing or dialogue, and with a sense of ease. Unlike much else in a quality show that tries a bit too hard, this dance sequence isn’t just entertaining. It’s uplifting.
