Broadway’s James Earl Jones Theatre only just completed a $47 million renovation four years ago. But the Shubert Organization might need to call in some additional engineers to bolster the roof because the boldly original new musical Wanted threatens to shake the foundations of the building with its explosive vocal pyrotechnics. The score, by composer Ross Baum and lyricist Angelica Chéri, is a brash blend of gospel, R&B, and the blues that’s performed by a powerhouse cast of singers who belt out high notes and impressive runs heedless of what they might do to the roof of the venue.
Chéri says she based the book on a family legend about her great-great-aunts, Mary and Martha Clarke (“we believe it’s mostly true,” the chorus sings at the top of the show). It’s a folk tale with elements of the classic Western and the revenge story, and also a commentary on the legacy of slavery in the Jim Crow era that delves into issues of colorism and authenticity in the Black community. Two mixed-race sisters in rural 1893 Texas (Solea Pfeiffer and Liisi LaFontaine) set out for the city, aiming to pass as white women to earn a more lucrative income that they can send home to their dark-skinned mother, Tallulah (played by Grammy winner Ledisi with a groundedness that contrasts with her high-flying vocals). The goal: to help mom pay off unfair debts piled on by white overlords and perhaps accumulate enough to buy the plot of farmland they’ve worked for generations as sharecroppers (and before that, as slaves).
During a fateful encounter with two men who attempt to sexually assault them, Pfeiffer’s Martha pulls out the pistol her mama gave her for protection and the men drop their wallets in hasty retreat. Martha decides this would be an easier way to earn money than working regular white women’s jobs. So they take to robbing banks, bordellos, gatherings of Confederate Army wives, and random white folks. The ethics can be a bit squishy, but we’re meant to root for the sisters carrying out a primitive version of post-slavery reparations.
Then they encounter the unironically named Jesse Whitelaw (Bradley Jaden), a young millionaire who owns much of a growing Texas town. He recognizes the sisters as the outlaws on the wanted posters all over the state but doesn’t turn them into collect the reward money. Seems that he’s taken an immediate shine to Mary, the more reticent of the sisters. Jaden, a dead ringer for Jared Leto anachronistically clad in a sleeveless letter vest that would befit a hunky alt-country star, does the most with a largely thankless role as an initially plausible love interest who ultimately turns out to be nothing of the sort.
Mary returns Jesse’s attentions, allowing Pfeiffer to tear into her love ballads with genuine emotion. Her character sees a genuine opportunity to advance herself without the risk of holding up strangers at gunpoint. Of course, that means either hiding her Black roots indefinitely (and concealing her true nature) or trusting that a man whose family made its fortune in the days of slavery will embrace her despite her race. Martha, meanwhile, is antsy to keep moving while also striking up a tentative romance with Jesse’s Black assistant, Elijah (played by R&B artist Luke James with soulful charm). When Mary announces her engagement, Martha forgoes persuasion for action — leading to a violent outburst that seems all the more rash because she (and the audience) don’t learn the specific reasons for Jesse’s unworthiness until much later on.
And that’s just Act 1 of this plot-heavy show, which would benefit from extensive streamlining as well as a sharper focus on the motivation and stakes of its appealing heroines at any given moment. There’s an admirable ambition here, both in the storytelling and the songs, but the two don’t always work hand in hand. Baum and Chéri demonstrate a knack for comedic numbers, from the patter song of the white chorus aboard a train to the spotlight tunes in which two Black hotel maids (Awa Sal Secka and Aurelia Williams, both scene-stealing phenoms) gossip about the sisters who just checked in. Sissy and Flo immediately clock the Clarkes’ secret (“The pot got bored when it called the kettle…” they sing as someone walks in and utters the missing word.)
The rest of the score is vocally ambitious and beautifully sung, with gorgeous full-choir harmonies and finely wrought pastiches of various African American musical traditions. But if you put Martha’s six-shooter to my head, I don’t think I could reproduce a melody from any of the ballads, blues numbers, and gospel-style choral works that fill the show. There are also far too many songs, and not enough that help advance the plot or deepen our understanding of the characters. (I’d start by axing “Frenchman Father,” an Act 1 cabaret tune that parallels the story of the white father who abandoned them but is mostly sung by a white character whose name we never learn.)
Director Stevie Walker-Webb’s production is visually stunning, making good use of the folding wooden-plank scaffolding on Beowulf Boritt’s set; Adam Honore’s lighting; Emilio Sosa’s sharp period costumes; and the hair, wig, and makeup work of J. Jared Janas and Tony Lauro. (The two vocal standouts of the ethereally dressed Greek chorus, Melody A. Betts and Harris Matthew, also boast the most impressively sculptural hairstyles.) Unfortunately, the video projections (by Stefania Bulbarella) shift almost at random from documentary-style black and white to stylized cartoons in lurid color. In addition, the sound design (by Gareth Owen) is frequently overamplified to the point that the lyrics are reduced to mush — which is a shame, since Chéri has some witty turns of phrase and clever rhymes (and half-rhymes, like peculiar and hallelujah).
Walker-Webb knows how to make things move, steamrolling through the busy plot and pausing only to create a striking tableau (sometimes with the assist of a smoke machine) or plant a singer downstage to unleash another melisma-packed run. The second act speeds by in a blur, packing in revelations and confrontations galore. Will Mary stay with Jesse (or risk sharing her true self with him)? Will Martha join Elijah in pursuing a new life in California? Will Sissy and Flo escape Jesse’s employment? Do the sisters have one more heist in them? These are life-changing moves that are decided in the blink of an eye, without so much as an 11 o’clock solo to work through their thought process.
And yet you cannnot deny the originality of this deeply American musical, or the raw talent on display. Pfeiffer and LaFontaine are the real deal, delivering two of the most memorable Broadway debuts in recent memory. In fact, there’s not a weak singer in the cast. For all its flaws, Wanted earns its place in the spotlight — and challenges us to consider why we still call the Midtown theater district the Great White Way. ★★★☆☆
WANTED
James Earl Jones Theatre, Broadway
Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes (with one intermission)
Tickets on sale through March 31 for $59 to $324