MoxBlog

“This is weird,” a group of high-schoolers agreed during intermission at Ford’s Theatre Friday night. Well, yeah: “The Wizard of Oz” is full of bizarre figures, such as tittering Munchkins and evil flying monkeys, and the 1970s Broadway version, “The Wiz,” makes it trippier by setting it to funk, soul, gospel and disco.

So brace yourself for an evening of extravagant camp that begins with a dancing tornado trailing yards of fine dark silk spinning skyward as set designer Jason Sherwood’s Kansas farmhouse splits apart and turns upside down. The Yellow Brick Road is four dancers with tall scepters and fulsome James Brown wigs. The Emerald City is a giant glowing “W,” and the Wizard is one part Little Richard, three parts Prince — and intimidating because his pop star face is projected all over the theater.

The opulent show always feels about a half step away from being a hot, hot mess, but director Kent Gash is merely following the groove that expanded the Broadway mold as an all-black retelling of an American staple. And he’s got performers who are able to bend the iconic roles their way; it’s hard not to surrender as soon as you get an eyeful of Hasani Allen as the Scarecrow, flopping and hopping with buoyant rhythm.

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The vaudeville style is delectable as Kevin McAllister sings “Slide Some Oil to Me,” gliding happily as the limbered-up Tinman, and Jobari Parker-Namdar has major pop swagger as the Wiz. Christopher Michael Richardson makes a jumpy Lion who gets courage from Ines Nassara’s plucky Dorothy, who bucks him up with “Be A Lion,” which Nassara sings with Mary J. Blige intensity.

It’s still a weird show — that really is the word — because it winds up slowly, droops in spots and moves forward via big 1970s-style numbers that you can’t fudge or do halfway. It’s dated, and you either go to the wall with the period’s style or go home. Gash winks at the audience with a couple of wry one-liners about Siri and “Black Panther,” and the audience laughs as if they’re happy to be on familiar ground again for a moment.

But you’re going to like this or not depending on whether you smile or cringe during scenes like the pulsing disco entrance to the Emerald City, where everything turns green, and the party vibe hits high tide. I confess I grinned a lot. The Lion gets caught up in vice with poppies (four more seductive dancers); the Munchkins are played by actors sitting in rolling chairs and dressed in crazily wide gumdrop-shaped costumes; wicked witch Evillene (Monique Midgette) sports a dress made of candy. Kara Harmon’s costumes are practically special effects, from the Tinman’s checkered silver to the shiny, skintight nightclub fashions in Emerald City. The whole show hustles right up to the edge of too much, generally convincing you it’s the only place to be.

The music is a strong persuader. The eight musicians, led by keyboardist-conductor Darius Smith, immerse themselves in the Charlie Smalls score — best known for “Ease on Down the Road” — like they’re happy to slap funk bass lines, raid gospel-blues-Motown modes and generally dwell in a world where disco is cool. Clint Allen’s vast projections are impressive, and what would make the show must-see is the kind of dancing that consistently sets your senses tingling.

Dell Howlett’s choreography hits that mark with Allen’s bubbly Scarecrow, with McAllister’s slippery-smooth moves as the Tinman (less so with his delicate tap number), and with lots of the accents that come from the chorus. Busy sequences like “Funky Monkeys,” with the evil monkeys chasing our heroes, communicate the action but don’t always supply a sublime rhythmic essence. A perfect version of “The Wiz” (no such thing) would be as powerful with its dance — maybe more so — as with its design.

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Still, the show makes you realize how willing Ford’s is to take surprising chances, and how sober most Washington theater is. This is delirious — not altogether oiled-up and easing down the road, but way larger than life as Dorothy and her pals find their way home.

The Wiz, music and lyrics by Charlie Smalls, book by William F. Brown. Directed by Kent Gash. Lights, Rui Rita; sound design, David Budries. With DeMoya Watson Brown, Awa Sal Secka, Daryl A. Spiers, Melissa Victor and Jaysen Wright. About 2 ½ hours. Through May 12 at Ford’s Theatre, 511 10th St. NW. $20-$73. Call 888-616-0270 or visit fords.org.

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