Review: A Half-Man, Half-God Has a Message to Spread in A Freeky Introduction

Despite its title, A Freeky Introduction isn’t playwright-performer NSangou Njikam’s first produced play in New York City. Back in 2017, he made some waves with Syncing Ink, a “hip-hop musical” in which he played an aspiring rapper trying to find his own voice. (Its world-premiere production at the Flea was also noteworthy for featuring Tony winner Kara Young in one of her earliest stage performances.) At its heart, the show was as much a coming-of-age tale as it was a celebration of hip-hop culture and African myths. If this latest show is anything to go by, though, Njikam hasn’t matured much since.

On the surface, A Freeky Introduction is a much smaller affair than the epic-scaled Syncing Ink: It features Njikam with DJ Monday Blue, occasionally interacting with the star, and even contributing a dance of her own (choreographed by Jill M. Vallery). But its aims are no less ambitious. Njikam plays Freeky Dee, a half-man, half-deity who has come down to Earth to preach a gospel of loving oneself and embracing your inner “freek.” He does this in a variety-show-like experience that features spoken-word poetry, storytelling, dance, and bits of audience participation, including a brief Q&A session at one point.

Early on, Freeky Dee explains he was “born between two worlds called Sacred and Profane.” A Freeky Introduction arguably works best as an immersion in that high-and-low essence. He says he has returned to Earth at the behest of his father—a “master of choice” who goes by many names, including Esu Odara and Papa Legba—to recount an important anecdote from his years as a mortal. But throughout the show, Freeky Dee frequently interrupts himself to spit some more rhymes, impart choice koans of wisdom, and goof off with the audience before the DJ gets him back on track. That’s just as well, given how thin that anecdote feels when he finally gets to the point.

The fable he opens with and returns to throughout the show suggests the larger story to come, in which an eagle who grew up among and was tormented by buzzards eventually discovers his true avian birthright. His own anecdote similarly hinges upon a difficult experience that leads him to discover his calling. One night at a club, he finds himself drawn to a woman named Lady Liberty and decides to pursue her despite his own father warning her about her reputation as a serial cheater. His resolve is strengthened when Liberty herself appears to reciprocate his advances—all of which leads to one sexy night together, which, as you might guess, ultimately doesn’t lead anywhere good.

A Freeky Introduction leaves us with an impression of an artist in a state of arrested development. The nonstop macho braggadocio, shallow political gestures, and one-dimensional treatment of female characters that marred Syncing Ink is still evident here, as is that earlier show’s self-indulgence (A Freeky Introduction is an hour of dramatic material stretched to 100 minutes). All of this might have been more tolerable if Njikam were a more charismatic and compelling performer. But though his rhymes at the start of the show are impressive, his lyrical invention becomes rarer as the show drags on and Njikam tries to energize the audience with his wannabe-empowering antics.

At least he has surrounded himself with a sterling creative team. Under Dennis A. Allen II’s direction, set designer Jason Ardizzone-West and lighting designer Sim Carpenter house him in an authentically spiritual-looking environment, with mural artist Dister’s hieroglyphics peppering the theater’s columns and walls. G. Clausen’s sound design keeps the music crisp. And Njikam certainly looks fly in Iusaset “U-U” Bakr’s costume design.

A Freeky Introduction adds up to little more than an overextended monument to its creator’s own ostensible brilliance … but hey, according to his character’s “freek” philosophy, all that really matters is how good one feels about oneself anyway.