*

By the time the doors of the Eugene O'Neill opened on Fela! Nov. 23, the joint was already (in the athletic and balletic sense of the word) jumping — gyrating, even.

Clusters of Nigerian-clad celebrants were bouncing and undulating up and down the aisles and onto the stage. There was the telltale tinny clink of pricy, spicy drinks in plastic cups around the bar area. Marina Draghici, in charge of costumes and sets, had gone over the stately theatre with a boar's tooth comb, thrown up corrugated iron walls, strung lights and a couple of disco balls, which catch the light that Robert Wierzel puts out when he's not pin-spotting a clutter of murals, masks and various art work plastered all over the place.

The hard-driving, hypnotic, insistent music going on — Afrobeat, a heady and quite potent blend of Yoruban chant, R&B, pop, funk, African rhythms and jazz brass — sweep you to your seat where you slowly start to feel you have already lost control.

Fela's music was popular with the oppressed masses and highly inflammatory when held to the feet of the corrupt West African dictatorship. As his fame increased, so did his beatings and jailings and political harassments. Six months before the start of this musical, his mother — Funmilayo Anikulapo-Kuti, herself a feminist firebrand — was hurled to her death from the second-story of a building by investigating police.

When a space is finally made at the center of the stage, it is filled by Fela himself (Sahr Ngaujah for five times a week, and Kevin Mambo for the other three). He sees his nightclub-hosting duties as a chance to review the story of his life so far, and it swirls by in a liquid, free-fall fashion only a dancer could devise.

Bill T. Jones, who won a 2007 Tony for choreographing Spring Awakening, is having himself an Autumn Awakening here, upping his hyphenated status to director-choreographer — plus he splits book credit with Jim Lewis, and he shares "conceived by" credit with Lewis and their lead producer, Stephen Hendel. Any more hyphens, and he would be Emperor.

So how do you keep up with The Jones? How do you maintain that level of unbridled exuberance that began the show? Those were the first questions out of the hopper for him when he arrived at Gotham Hall for the after-party and press quizzing.

His answer was simple. "Well, you don't stop it," he replied. The moves some of the dancers make in the "Yellow Fever" number are not the sort you expect of anyone born of woman. "How do I get it out of them? With the help of my associate choreographer, Maija Garcia. We give them problems, then suggestions — there's a lot of movement that's made and given to them, yes. For solos, I say, 'I want you to show me something in the spirit of what Fela just said about originality. Put together what you know about modern dance or African dance.' With 'Yellow Fever,' I said, 'Work with that drummer. He challenges you, and you challenge him.'

"And I can't stress enough what this man means to the young people on that stage. They're some pretty sophisticated artists there. They come from other worlds, but I think, over time, they saw the potential of what we're trying to do in terms of mixing audiences and how to tell a story and different notions of drama or beauty."

And where did he find that chunk of energized charisma at stage center, Ngaujah? "I think he came from heaven for me," Jones laughed. "I was working on a show at New York Theatre Workshop called The Seven, written by Will Power and directed by Jo Bonney, and he was one of the people who read. He didn't get the part, but I was already thinking about this and I said to myself, 'You know, that could be Fela,' so I snuck his picture out of the pile. I never saw anyone better. The next person who came even close was Kevin Mambo, our second Fela."

The two approach the role differently, he said. "Sahr is buoyant, boyish, easy smile. He has what I call lovingly 'a dancer's instinct' toward gesture and expressionism. Kevin is darker, brooding, more of an intellectual approach to the character."

Mambo, a two-time Emmy winner for "Guiding Light" and a recent recruit from Lynn Nottage's Ruined, said "Vive la difference!" to all that. "Fela was a big, big personality, so it takes two guys to fill his shoes. Our schedule fluctuates. It's really not about who goes on. It's about the show, really. We're letting people come and experience the thing. As actors, we have different impulses, so both shows are different, but both shows are very good."

View the Entire Photo Gallery Bill T. Jones Photo by Aubrey Reuben

Ngaujah seemed utterly unruffled by having just performed at top speed for two and a half hours. "No, no. I feel quite energetic, actually. And I can speak for the cast as well. We train for a few shows so when we walk off stage, we're ready to do another one. We approach one show as if another one is happening right afterward so, by the end of the show, we're not even peaking yet. We're ready for what's next.

"This was a great show. There was energy popping from all sides of the Eugene O'Neill Theatre tonight. I don't think there's a crevice or corner of that space that isn't sparking right now with electricity. And we're very happy about that, all of us.

"I really enjoyed myself tonight on stage. It was so amazing. Any future potential audience members that are going to be checking out what you have to say — I really hope that when you guys come out — don't be afraid to talk to us because we're definitely going to be talking to you. We want to hear what you have to say as well. And if you don't want to talk, just feel, man. Bring your heart open."

Buy this Limited Collector's Edition

Of course, a major source of Ngaujah's force-of-nature performing comes from the man he is playing. "What I love about Fela, actually, is that his suffering took place because he was squeezing the core of his humanity. Because he was doing that, he felt compelled to speak for the rights of other humans. Ultimately, that's why he was beaten so many times. That's why his mother was killed. That's why his house was burned. At the time, Nigeria was just coming out of colonization. It was at a very serious crossroad. America's at a very serious crossroad, too. We came from a very, very difficult regime for a lot of people to sustain themselves and find courage. We're coming out of that now. What Fela has to offer us is a new archetype for a new mythology. …That would be 'Take courage, face your fears and, hopefully, you'll find your own self on the other side of it.'" Lillias White, who came aboard after the Off-Broadway run, is the mostly ghostly figure of Fela's mom, existing only in song, with no dialogue of her own, but the audience response to her is immense, and she's aware of it. "I always try to give all I've got, and people respond to that," she said (it's a rule she lives, and acts, by).

The character particularly appealed to her: "I've done a lot of research — as much research as I could get my hands on. She was an activist. She worked for women's rights. She educated the poorer uneducated women in her community. And she taught her son — and all her children — to be conscientious of the plight of others."

The other role of consequence in the show is that of Sandra Isadore, who introduced Fela to the black movement in America, and she was in the opening-night audience, making it a little frantic for her portrayer. "I tried not to look at her because I didn't want to get nervous," admitted Saycon Sengbloh. "But it was a thrill to meet her at the end of the show. She said, 'You do me justice.'"

Lewis, who co-wrote the book (and generally collaborates with choreographers), has been on this project for seven years. "I have an eight-year-old boy, and I can remember he was one year old when Bill first called me and said, 'Would you be interesting in working on this?' I have about 20 versions of the script. Someday we'll put it together, and, if someone wants to do a 20-hour version Fela!, I'm there.

"What this show has always been about for me is — not so much about Fela as it is about the importance of taking a stand and being willing to pay a price for what you believe in. It doesn't really matter what that is.

"I love to work with choreographers. I've done that for a long time. Graciela Daniele is an old partner of mine. My first shows were with her. I just love the way choreographers are trying to tell stories, but they don't necessarily want to tell it in the same way that you assume a theatre story has to be told, so they're trying to find new ways to tell stories, and I find that very exciting."

There was a steady drizzle of stars all evening. Chester Gregory dropped by after Dreamgirls and James Stovall after Finian's Rainbow.

Jimmy Fallon, in a rare night out on the town, arrived as a show of support for Questlove. "He's the drummer on our show and he's a producer with 'Jay-Z,'" explained the late-night show host. "I missed the show, though. I had to rehearse for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I'm on the Gibson Guitar Float this year, and I'm singing holiday songs. Should be on between 11 and 11:20."

Also in attendance: Harry Belafonte out at a theatre opening his second night in a row, Ben Stiller, filmmaker Spike Lee, "Precious" director Lee Daniels, Sh-K-Boom/Ghostlight Records exec Kurt Deutsch and wife Sherie Rene Scott, Matt Cavenaugh, who put down his West Side Story switchblade and took up a bride (Jenny Powers), Circle in the Square founder Ted Mann, producer David Binder, Lou Reed ("a seat-kicker," carped the woman in front of him), Jeffrey Wright, Gayle King, singer Angelique Kidjo, dance legend Judith Jamison, Laurie Anderson, actress-writer Danai Gurira, Billy Porter, The Public's Oskar Eustis, Bobby Cannavale, and David Byrne.