Here’s an interesting question: How is the word “inimitable” defined? It’s traditionally used to indicate famous individuals who cannot be imitated. Yet, there are impersonators—Rich Little among the best—able to do canny imitations of these lionized figures, proving that even the most seemingly inimitable performers aren’t truly inimitable.
That much is being strongly illustrated on Broadway now by A Wonderful World. James Monroe Iglehart is convincingly proving that Louis Armstrong is, no question, imitable. Only Tony-winner (Aladdin) Iglehart knows how long it took him to get Armstrong’s signature gravelly voice and facility with scatting or how long it took him to master the sun-radiant smile, but he’s accomplished it all victoriously.
What he can’t duplicate is Armstrong’s 5’6” height. He stands six feet tall, and so audience members have to dismiss that unmissable discrepancy. Doing so may or may not be easy for them.
[Read Roma Torre’s ★★★★☆ review here.]
Also, what about Iglehart’s mastering Armstrong playing, his embouchure? Is he even playing, or is he merely pulling off some impressive lip-synching? The situation is that, although Iglehart reportedly learned trumpet basics, it’s Alphonso Horne (note the surname) playing for him, and at that assignment, he ought to be garnering his own praise.
All right, so much of Armstrong’s brilliance was his playing. Nevertheless, Iglehart winningly embodies a well-loved national figure, and A Wonderful World, directed by Christopher Renshaw and co-directed by Iglehart and Christina Sajous, benefits mightily from this, telling a story that, as a matter of the facts told, wasn’t all toothy smiles.
Very much like so many of autobiographies recounted in musicals, Armstrong’s life is told sketchily. A childhood drug-use prison stint, for instance, is mentioned—and the lesson he learned to rise above it as a genuinely possessed musician. The Karnofskys, a Jewish family who helped raise him and gave him the five dollars he used to buy his first cornet, are thanked.
Most extensively covered are his four wives—Daisy Parker (Dionne Figgins), Lil Hardin (Jennie Harney-Fleming), Alpha Smith (Kim Exum) and Lucille Wilson (Darlesia Cearcy). They even dictate the four sections into which the two acts are divided: New Orleans, Chicago, Hollywood, New York.
Significantly, Armstrong’s geographical transitions are explained here by his putting potential trumpeting opportunities over marriage. The choices prevailed despite first wives Daisy and Lil hectoring their wandering spouse to establish himself financially and professionally. Alpha had no such interest, leaving him for a drummer. Lucille did, however, so much so that insisting on studying his accounting books, she forced manager Joe Glaser (Jimmy Smagula) to come across with them. That’s when she discovered income was going to someone called Sweetie, a mistress mother to a son.
Yes, while earlier in his career remaining loyal to famous King Joe Oliver (Gavin Gregory)—who kept him at second trumpet out of fear of Armstrong outshining him—the handkerchief-wielding cornet-trumpeter had a life not always reflecting his “When You’re Smiling” public face. Racist wounds which he frequently endured, not least in Hollywood, are presented. (Is his being congratulated by a white director for “monkeying” before the cameras a true incident or intended to represent many similar belittling insults?)
Okay, the compromising biographical details are important, but it’s the music that really counts—as very often enhanced by Rickey Tripp’s exceedingly high-energy choreography and Dewitt Fleming Jr.’s tap choreography. On the classy Adam Koch and Steven Royal set (with their video design) and with Toni-Leslie James’ often glittering costumes, Iglehart unfailingly delivers the old Armstrong verve.
From start to finish, others sing up a beautiful storm as well. Bookwriter Aurin Squire—working from the Andrew Delaplaine-Christopher Renshaw conception—sees that wives Figgins, Harney-Fleming, Exum, and Cearcy lift their superb voices, often holding on to the purest of belted notes long enough for spectators to start cheering.
Not surprisingly, the score includes songs—as conducted by Daryl G. Ivey with arrangement contributions from Daryl Waters and Branford Marsalis—habitually associated with Armstrong. For instance, there’s “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?” which Eddie DeLange and Louis Alter wrote for the 1947 movie New Orleans and in which Armstrong, as a bandleader, played and Billie Holiday sang. Iglehart intones the Fats Waller-Harry Brooks-Andy Razaf “(What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue” to underline the pain of racial episodes. Those are only a few of tunes honoring his recordings over five decades, which even runs to “Kiss of Fire,” his version hitting the charts in 1952.
Incidentally, frequent Armstrong collaborator Ella Fitzgerald is mentioned but doesn’t appear as a character. Nor is there a replica of Armstrong appearance with Bing Crosby in Cole Porter’s 1955 High Society. Oh well, considering everything else so succulently served up, it’s probably greedy to want more.
Of course, Armstrong’s “Hello, Dolly!” is reprised, as a singalong, no less. It likely still holds the position as the last song from a Broadway music to reach number one on the Top 100. The title song, more properly known as “What a Wonderful World,” is kept for last as an Armstrong-in-heaven finale. It’s a bit too-too, but so what? The man’s music is reverenced throughout, and that’s what really matters.
A Wonderful World: The Louis Armstrong Musical opened November 11, 2024 at Studio 54. Tickets and information: louisarmstrongmusical.com
