Putting Billy Porter and Wayne Brady together in a landmark queer musical sounds like an absolute slam dunk on paper. They are both theater royalty, possess massive charisma, and have spent decades breaking barriers in the industry. But as the New York City Center Encores! staging of La Cage aux Folles demonstrates, pure star power can collide hard with the realities of compressed theatrical production schedules.
The excitement surrounding this all-Black production directed by Robert O'Hara was completely justified. La Cage aux Folles has always been a masterpiece of musical comedy. Harvey Fierstein's book remains a beautifully structured engine of farce, and Jerry Herman's score delivers one life-affirming anthem after another. Sadly, the standard Encores! ten-day rehearsal window has left this high-concept reimagining feeling more like a rough draft than a fully realized triumph.
The Trouble With the Script in Hand
The most jarring aspect of opening night was something longtime Encores! attendees haven't seen much lately. Both Brady and Porter performed with scripts in hand. While the series originally began as a semi-staged concert format where holding books was standard, modern audiences have grown used to seeing fully memorized, Broadway-caliber productions on the City Center stage.
Wayne Brady handled his script smoothly, mostly carrying it along while keeping his eyes locked on his castmates. Billy Porter, playing the volatile and glamorous drag star Albin, struggled significantly more. During the opening performances, Porter frequently relied on his book, at times losing his place entirely, breaking character, and halting the momentum of dialogue that needs to be blistering fast to land properly. Farce requires meticulous, split-second timing. When actors are scanning a page for their next line, the zippy, clever banter between longtime partners Georges and Albin turns clunky.
This lack of preparation meant the central romance lacked the deep, lived-in chemistry required to make the emotional stakes land. Albin and Georges have been together for twenty years. They have raised a son. They run a bustling nightclub in St. Tropez. When the production fails to establish that unshakeable foundation of love, the entire plot—wherein their son Jean-Michel asks Albin to hide his sexuality to appease a homophobic politician—loses its heartbreak.
A Bold Vision Starved for Time
It's a shame, because Robert O'Hara's concept for this revival is incredibly compelling. He explicitly shifts the traditional presentation into a broadly queer, Black nightclub space. The Cagelles—historically a chorus line of men performing in traditional drag—are expanded here. O'Hara populates the stage with a diverse spectrum of gay, trans, and genderqueer performers.
The aesthetic execution features costuming by Clint Ramos and Michelle Ridley that references iconic Black pop culture figures:
- A high-energy nod to Beyoncé's stadium looks
- Glamorous, diva-level homages to Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey
- Edgy, athletic visual cues drawing from Janet Jackson and Rihanna
It is an ambitious, beautiful idea. Yet, Edgar Godineaux's contemporary choreography looks noticeably under-rehearsed. The ensemble numbers lack the crisp precision needed to make these pop-diva tributes soar. You can visually detect the seeds of what O'Hara wanted to build, but those ideas simply didn't have the time to take root. A production trying to accomplish this much reinvention needs weeks of previews, not a frantic ten days in a rehearsal room.
Where the Production Truly Shines
Despite the heavy pacing issues and structural stumbles, the evening is not without genuine musical theater magic. The absolute high point of the evening belongs to the younger generation on stage. Alaman Diadhiou, playing the son Jean-Michel, delivers a spectacular performance. His numbers are elevated immensely by the crisp, breathtaking tap choreography of Dormeshia. Whenever Diadhiou takes center stage, the energy in the room shifts instantly; his footwork is flawless, precise, and completely memorized, injecting a desperate dose of energy into an otherwise uneven evening.
And then there is "I Am What We Are" and, most importantly, "I Am What I Am."
"I am what I am
I am my own special creation
So try a new chord
Another vocation"
When Porter steps up to deliver this legendary gay anthem at the end of the first act, the scripts, the missed cues, and the messy staging fade away. He pours raw, undeniable emotion into the vocal line. It is gorgeous, heartbreaking, and it brought a massive portion of the audience to tears. It's a stark reminder of the brilliant, electric performer Porter can be when he connects fully with the material. Similarly, when the full company unites in the second act for "The Best of Times," the sheer joy of Jerry Herman's score breaks through the clutter, resulting in a volcanic eruption of musical-theater euphoria.
Why This Farce Feels Different in 2026
Watching La Cage aux Folles today brings up complicated questions about how the material has aged. In 1983, showcasing a stable, loving same-sex couple on a Broadway stage was a radical act of political defiance, especially against the backdrop of the early AIDS crisis.
Today, with marriage equality long codified nationwide but queer and trans rights facing intense, targeted political attacks, the show's core conflict hits differently. The plot hinges on a classic plea for basic tolerance: Look, gay people can be just like a traditional married couple, even if one is a bit more dramatic. For some modern theatergoers, that baseline message feels slightly dated and safe. Yet, watching a Black, queer cast look a bigoted politician in the eye and sing about self-acceptance still carries undeniable weight.
If you plan to grab a ticket before the short run ends on June 28, go in with adjusted expectations. Do not expect a polished, seamless Broadway transfer. Go to hear an iconic score sung by an incredibly talented, historic cast, and to witness a couple of showstopping musical moments that remind you exactly why we keep coming back to the theater.
