‘Freestyle Love Supreme’ at Colonial a High Energy Comic Blast

Chris Sullivan, Wayne Brady, Anthony Veneziale, Aneesa Folds in Freestyle Love Supreme at the Emerson Colonial Theater. Photos by Joan Marcus. (Brady is not part of the cast for the Boston dates).

“Freestyle Love Supreme” – Conceived by Anthony Veneziale. Created by Thomas Kail, Lin-Manuel Miranda and Anthony Veneziale. Directed by Thomas Kail. Presented by the Ambassador Theatre Group at the Emerson Colonial Theatre, 106 Boylston St., Boston through April 2.

by Mike Hoban

What do you get when you cross improvisational comedy with hip-hop? Freestyle Love Supreme is what, and it’s a musical comedy blast. Boston is the second leg of the national tour of this unique entertainment experience, following a four-month return engagement to the Booth Theater on Broadway after the show won a special Tony Award last September. The concept of the show itself isn’t entirely new, as improvisational comedy groups have long incorporated long-form musicals into their shows, but the added degree of difficulty – fitting the improvised songs into a rhyming scheme in harmony with a beatbox – is nothing short of amazing.

Accompanied by two keyboard/synthesizer players (Richard Raskin Jr. and James Rushin), the performers – Aneesa Folds (a.k.a Young Nees), Jay C. Ellis (a.k.a. Jellis J), human beatbox Chris Sullivan, (a.k.a. Shockwave) and master of ceremonies Anthony Veneziale, (a.k.a. Two-Touch) explode onto the stage with “MIC Check #1” as the audience leaps to its feet (we later learn that about one-third of the audience is composed of rabid FLS fans). They are later joined by Andrew Bancroft (a.k.a Jelly Donut), and the musical “games” begin. For the opening bit, MC Veneziale – who sounds like he could be the head of HR at a Fortune 500 company but can rhyme on the fly like Eminem – asks the audience to “shout out muffled suggestions” for active verbs through their masks, and the group is off and running. We’re treated to a series of rapped stories sung along to Shockwave’s astounding beatbox, where he creates music and special effects using only his hands, mouth, throat, and nose to simulate percussion and a host of other noises.

As Veneziale collects suggestions for each new game, his rapid-fire exchanges with the audience are filled with comic gems. The audience suggestions are alternately bland and creative, and when they try to throw curves at FLS like ‘macadamia nut’ or ‘music theory” to incorporate into the song-stories, they not only work them into the rhymes, they weave them into the fabric of the show as comic callbacks.

Although every show is unique, the performers rely on a series of freestyle “games” for structure, including: What Ya’ll Know, On the Fence, True, Day in a Life, Foundations of Freestyle, Home, Second Chance, Deep Dive and more. With “Second Chance”, the rappers act out a story of a regretful incident told to them by an audience member, then rewind and do the exact story in reverse, then retell the story, minus the regretful incident, giving the person a “second chance” in life. For this show, a young woman related the tale of sticking a penny in a light socket and burning herself as a seven year-old, something that she is still reminded of frequently at family functions. FLS turns it into a hilarious tale, and watching the players rewind and replicate their improvised story in reverse is mind-blowing.

The performers also share a bit of their life stories in the “True” segment, where they story-tell in rhyme some experiences from their lives around a theme. This night’s topic was “Graduation”, introduced in song by the golden pipes of Young Nees, who in addition to being a great comic performer, sings like a young Jennifer Hudson. It’s a fairly brilliant bit, with Jellis J’s story including some touching elements involving – you guessed it – his challenges with music theory in college.

True to the nature of improv, not every bit is a home run, but there are multiple moments of sheer amazement to go along with a steady stream of laughter. And the audience aren’t the only ones having fun, as the rappers crack each other up like a hip-hop version of a Carol Burnett show.

If you’re one of those folks who writes “I like all kinds of music except rap” on your dating profile, don’t worry, this show is accessible to those who aren’t familiar with the form. My friend, a lifelong suburbanite who barely knows who Grandmaster Flash is, never mind NWA, loved the show. In these difficult times, Freestyle Love Supreme is just the kind of unadulterated fun we all need. For tickets and more information, go to: www.emersoncolonialtheatre.com

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