Goddess – Star Crossed Lovers
Star-crossed lovers, good and evil, and the power of music lead the plot of this heartfelt, if generic folklore meets hip/hop musical. Watamaraka, Africa’s Goddess of Demons (a wonderful puppet), orders daughter Marimba (Amber Iman) to incite war among the people. She refuses, turns weapons into musical instruments, and is deemed the deity of Music and Creativity.
To escape her destiny, Marimba travels from heaven to earth presenting herself as professional vocalist, Nadira, now headlining club Moto-Moto in Mombasa, Kenya. She lives in a back room, not going out for fear of maternal retribution. Nadira’s voice naturally enchants.
Teshomech Olenja, Reggie D. White, Awa Sal Secka, and Melessie Clark
Like Hadestown’s Fates, narrative is presented by three women who traverse the two realms (Teshomech Olenja, Awa Sal Secka, Melessie Clark).
Returning from education in New York, Omari (Austin Scott) is expected to fall in line with his parents’ strict Muslim traditions and plans for him. He’s been affianced to Cheche (Destinee Rea) since childhood and primed to take over for his conservative governor father, Hassan (J. Paul Nicholas). Mom, Siti, (Ayana George Jackson) is compliant. Both actors are excellent.
Nick Rashad Burroughs (Ahmed)
Intimates are unaware Omari loves and plays a hot saxophone. In fact, before he goes home, he stops in at the club serendipitously catching Nadira’s show. They’re powerfully drawn. Nonetheless, the young man temporarily falls in line with his family blueprint.
Meanwhile, in second banana fashion, Nadira is hounded by sleazy club owner, Madongo (Jason Bowen), while bartender Rashida (Arica Jackson) is pursued by MC, Ahmed (Nick Rashad Burroughs). The latter two are splendid. Both add humor and Burroughs moves like nobody’s business.
Arica Jackson (Rashida)
Only local Soothsayer, Balozi (Reggie D. White, credibly mystical) has any idea of what’s going on. Madongo experiences Watamaraka’s terrible wrath. Omari uncases his sax and backbone. Marimba loves for the first time. The ending is bittersweet.
Amber Iman is a formidable presence with a big, warm, elastic voice, though it takes a while for her to loosen up. Curiously, the performer doesn’t move with music. Austin Scott is charming and believable.
Austin Scott (Omari) and Amber Iman (Nadira)
In everything but the kitchen sink style, the overproduced piece tries to cover too many bases. Without superfluous vocal solos and dance numbers (we don’t need choreography during every song) it could successfully be twenty minutes shorter.
Having passed through several hands, Saheem Ali’s book (additional material James Ijames) crams in liberal politics, coalescing multi-ethnicity (both in terms of voters and the “unity” required to play music), parental pressure, and being true to one’s self. Ali’s Buena Vista Social Club – up for 10 Tony Awards – is eminently more straightforward.
Amber Iman as Marimba
Music is an amalgam of pop, jazz, soul, and Afrobeat which one might find singular but for lack of melody and similarity of arrangement. Lyrics are pedestrian, often comprised of meandering, loosely set text. Rhythm alone holds. (Michael Thurber – music and lyrics)
Whether by wont of sound design (Nevin Steinberg) or lack of articulation, many lyrics arrive muddy and unintelligible. Choreography (Darrell Grand Moultrie) is an energetic blend of genres. Kudos to Karishma Bhagani for Kenyan accents.
Perhaps trying to evoke both a hip hop club and regions of the gods, scenic designer Arnulfo Maldonado has managed neither clarity nor appealing aesthetics. Crumpled-paper-looking, cave-like walls are an enigma. Costumes (Dede Ayite) range from get-dressed-in-the-dark to pseudo ethnic hip-hop. Hassan and Siti’s apparel reads well. Narrators’ gowns are fun.
Julian Crouch’s puppet design is inspired.
Photos by Joan Marcus
Opening: Austin Scott (Omari), Amber Iman (Nadira)
Goddess
Music and Lyrics by Michael Thurber
Book by Saheem Ali
Additional Book Material by James Ijames
Directed by Saheem Ali
The Public Theater
425 Lafayette Street
