Fantastical Knocking On the Door of the Blues

‘Thunder Knocking on the Door” summons such a winningly fantastical idea, and presents it with such bright-eyed showmanship, that it's almost easy to forgive the production its trespasses. This small-cast musical is ambitious enough, after all, to invent for itself a new mythology, in which blues guitars are sacred totems, musical "cuttin' contests” echo in legend, and the blues itself is divinely protected by an Egyptian trickster god.

"Thunder,” with a book written by Keith Glover, recounts the quasi-fable of mystical wanderer Marvell Thunder (Peter Jay Fernandez, come to Alabama in 1966 to challenge the daughter of the only guitar player who ever bested him at playing the blues. When the show works -- especially in the evening's first half -- its twin strands of fantasy and homespun humanity make each resonate more than they would alone.

In one of the production's strongest moments, the song "Hold On” (the music and lyrics, by Keb' Mo' and Anderson Edwards, are all blues-inflected, naturally) matches blues conventions with family lore, and the mix gives the tale all the shivery magic of an ancient hero's journey. In other scenes the show's creators are so generously serious with their characters that even a potentially maudlin duet like "See Through Me” (delicately choreographed by Luis Perez will move you before you can finish rolling your eyes.

That uneasy balance between fantasy and realism isn't always easy to maintain. Director Oskar Eustis occasionally allows some of the plot's absurdity to lapse into sitcom flatness (a quality enhanced by Chuck Cooper, who, playing the closest thing to the family patriarch, shows a fondness both for wisecracking and melodrama). The set, designed by Eugene Lee, is an awkward pastiche of back-porch naturalism and hieroglyphic abstraction.

Leslie Uggams, as the blues man's widow, gets saddled with a peremptory emotional life, but she brings some dignity to the role every time she can. Michael McElroy, playing the widow's son, has perfected a cocky slouch, and his character's twin sister, Marva Hicks, goes from blind to sighted with touching wonder. As Thunder, Fernandez wisely counters his supernatural character with straight-faced honesty.

Disappointingly, the second act never rises to the promise of the first. Beginning with a subplot about a magic potion that seems arbitrary (even by the lax standards of hokum that a story like this solicits), the narrative's clunky machinery starts to show through, and many of the songs, agreeable as they are, are little more than place-holders. The final guitar smackdown, too, is physically literalized enough to be more than a little silly, even if it is nicely enhanced by quick flashes of color from lighting designer Natasha Katz.

For all that, "Thunder Knocking on the Door” surges forward on a wave of ebullient enthusiasm that nearly succeeds in washing away the show's list of flaws. When "Thunder” knocks, it's hard not to answer.

Gordon Cox is a regular contributor to Newsday.

Related topic galleries: Chuck Cooper, Film Festivals

• DENTAL

• JANITORIAL ASSISTANT MANAGER

• JANITORIAL ASSISTANT MANAGER

• CONSTRUCTION SUPERINTENDENT

• ACCOUNTANT

• View all Top Jobs