Cal Mitchell as The Lion, Elijah Ahmad Lewis as The Scarecrow, Dana Cimone as Dorothy, and Alan Mingo Jr. as The Wiz in the North American Tour of “The Wiz” Credit: Jeremy Daniel/courtesy Dr. Phillips Center for the Performing Arts

For older generations, The Wizard of Oz was a cherished childhood staple of springtime CBS broadcasts, which (unless you believe it’s a populist parable) delivered no deeper socio-political statement beyond “There’s no place like home.” But today’s audiences are largely experiencing L. Frank Baum’s fantasyland filtered through the lens of our fractured era, where the very concept of home feels fraught. Whether it’s Wicked’s wildly successful script-flipping allegory about fascism or the uncanny AI-assisted exploitation of the original Technicolor film flourishing inside Las Vegas’s Sphere, crowds still flock to Oz even as its interpretations become increasingly apocalyptic. 

So it is somewhat surprising and ironic that the new touring production of The Wiz — which was Broadway’s original groundbreaking reimagining of the tale back in 1975, and whose 1978 film was set in a terrifyingly derelict Manhattan — arrives in Orlando this week with none of the angst or edge that accompanies its popular descendants. Instead, it dismisses almost all of Oz’s darkness and drama in favor of exuberantly expressing unbridled Black joy, an all-too-rare occurrence on the Dr. Phillips Center’s mainstage.

Dana Cimone stars as Dorothy, a spunky orphan sent from the big city to black-and-white Kansas, where her Aunt Em (The Voice finalist Kyla Jade, doing double duty as Evillene) consoles her with a song before a cyclone of interpretive dancers whisks her house over the rainbow. During her mythic quest for repatriation, she teams up with a brainless Scarecrow (Elijah Ahmad Lewis, beautifully boneless), a heartless Tinman (D. Jerome) and campy cowardly Lion (Cal Mitchell), who all seek assistance from The Wiz (Alan Mingo, Jr., channeling RuPaul Andre Charles). Before you can click your heels three times [century-old spoiler alert] the wicked witch is waterlogged and Glinda (Sheherazade) brings down the house with a power anthem, so Dorothy can sing her way home with a Diana Ross megahit. 

Writer Amber Ruffin has updated William E. Brown’s book with largely unnecessary new backstories for the characters, which nod at topical issues like bullying and climate change without ever going deeper than the surface; as well as a cutting collection of contemporary one-liners, which will land differently depending on your cultural awareness of topics like hair curl pattern. The script is mostly there to bridge between Charlie Smalls’ R&B score (funkily orchestrated by Joseph Joubert), which is stocked with all-time bangers including “You Can’t Win,” “Ease On Down the Road,” and “Everybody Rejoice,” along with a fistful of forgettable snoozers. 

Unfortunately, those boring book numbers make up the bulk of the second act, which under Schele Williams’ presentational direction dragged the pacing to a halt following a promising beginning. The Wiz’s talented cast is truly wonderful, as is the energy they exude on stage, but there’s something fundamentally off about the balance in this production. It begins with a lack of focus on the main character in both the staging and the sound mixing; despite Cimone’s stellar vocal tone, her Dorothy struggles to be seen and heard above the din until the very last verses of her finale. 

Likewise, technical elements like Hannah Beachler’s scenic design, Shren Davis’ costumes and Jaquel Knight’s choreography all draw upon decades of urban influences — from ’60s hippies and ’70s Soul Train through Y2K hip-hop — and smoosh them together in a way that’s initially dazzling, but ultimately aesthetically incoherent. Most egregious are Daniel Brodie’s distracting backdrop projections, which look like hastily Photoshopped stock art (at best), or Sora-generated slop (at worst). 

If you don’t peek behind the curtain, there’s a lot of entertainment value to be had in this trip down the Yellow Brick Road, particularly for an audience that doesn’t often get to see themselves reflected in trauma-free theater. However, fans who have already fallen in love with Elphaba and her fight for freedom may have trouble identifying with this lightweight take on Oz. Either way, The Wiz gets Orlando’s 2025/2026 Broadway season off to colorful start that had me humming “Brand New Day” out the door.

The Wiz