Off-Broadway Review: GODDESS (The Public Theater)

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by Paola Bellu on May 20, 2025

in Theater-New York

GODDESS ISN’T JUST A SHOW,
IT’S A CALLING. ANSWER IT.

Goddess, which opened at The Public Theater tonight, doesn’t just arrive onstage like any musical—but like a warm and joyful jazz riff. Loosely inspired by the legend of Marimba, the African goddess who turned heartbreak into healing music, it succeeds in blending folklore with funk, and spirituality with seduction. With music and lyrics by Michael Thurber—an exhilarating mix of Kenyan rhythms, jazz, R&B, Taarab, Afrobeat, pop, and soul—and a book written and directed with spiritual swagger and social awareness by Saheem Ali, Goddess is truly one of a kind. (Fat Ham‘s James Ijames wrote additional book material.) Add in Darrell Grand Moultrie’s choreography, which practically blisters the stage flooring, and you’ve got a show that demands your attention.

Austin Scott and Amber Iman
The cast of Goddess

We’re transported to Moto Moto, a sultry nightclub in coastal Mombasa, Kenya, owned by Madongo (Jason Bowen). While the crowd sways and laughs, in walks Omari (Austin Scott), a gloomy young man caught in a tangle: a fiancée with a plan, a family full of traditional expectations, and a soul still tethered to music. He’s come to stash away his saxophone—a symbolic farewell. Destinee Rea brings bite and fiery poise to Omari’s ambitious fiancée; J. Paul Nicholas is quietly commanding as Hassan, Omari’s father; and Ayana George Jackson blends warmth with strategic precision as Siti, the mother—each gesture and word deliberate, intelligent, and loaded with care.

Brandon Alvíon, Quiatae Mapenzi Johnson, Wade Watson, and Christina Jones

But before Omari can slip out, he hears Nadira, the new performer singing for the first time—and his entire life plan is replaced by a thunderbolt of infatuation. As Nadira, the magnetic vocalist whose secret identity unfolds slowly, Amber Iman doesn’t just play a music goddess—she is one, giving a performance worthy of legend. Her voice is pure alchemy: rooted in gospel, kissed by jazz, soaked in soul, and ignited with divine fire. She glides between command and tenderness, radiating a supernatural grace. I could sing her praises until next week—but we’ve got a story to get back to, and we’re only just beginning. For now, let’s just say the audience was already on its feet before she finished her first song.

Nick Rashad Burroughs and cast
Amber Iman and cast

Nadira’s mother, the goddess of evil, desired her daughter to become the goddess of war. But Marimba—her original name—preferred harmony over destruction. In a classic act of rebellion, she changed her name to Nadira and slipped away to hide in Moto Moto. Both she and Omari are cursed, forced into lives they do not want. Enter two unlikely Cupids: Rashida, the club manager, played by a vibrant Arica Jackson, and Ahmed, the MC, played by Nick Rashad Burroughs with swagger, style and split-second comic instincts. Enriching the ensemble’s dynamics, their chemistry is electric, their timing impeccable—and their meddling just the push these lovers need.

 Teshomech Olenja, Reggie D. White, Awa Sal Secka, and Melessie Clark
 Arica Jackson

Then there’s the story’s spiritual guides, the GrioTrio: Melessie Clark, Awa Sal Secka, and Teshomech Olenja, alongside the quietly magnetic Reggie D. White as Balozi the shaman. Griots—West African poet-musicians who carry oral history—are here reimagined as the show’s narrators, spiritual anchors, and live-wire energy source. They slip through the story with seamless grace and mystery. The full ensemble is just as kinetic—offering infectious joy, electric rhythm, and tantalizing movement. And the band, led by music director Marco Paguia, doesn’t just accompany the action—they’re part of the show’s heartbeat: blessedly loud, proud, and gloriously present, just as much a character as anyone onstage.

 Austin Scott and Destinee Rea

Arnulfo Maldonado’s intriguing set places us deep within a goddess’s grotto: part nightclub—like a section of legendary musician Fela Kuti’s club the Afrika Shrine—part cave, and part ancient terrain with a massive tree at its center. A small bar and a glass shelving unit neatly lined with bottles add a layer of realism, but as Bradley King’s lighting shifts and pulses with enchantment, the cavernous walls move and the ordinary transforms into the extraordinary, helping to dissolve the boundary between reality and myth. Dede Ayite’s costumes echo that blend—mixing African silhouettes and modern flair with an artful mix of bold patterns and textures that pop under every spotlight.

 Austin Scott and Amber Iman
 Austin Scott and Ayana George Jackson

Sure, Goddess leans on a few familiar tropes—most musicals do. But when the music is this hot and alive, and the talent this fierce, you won’t mind. And the astounding Amber Iman? She’ll ruin you for other singers. She doesn’t just hit the notes—she burns through them and floats above them, making you question whether gravity ever applied to people who sing like that. She blesses your ears and scorches your soul. But the whole show lifts with her, a glorious fusion of myth, music, and meaning.

The cast
 Austin Scott and Nick Rashad Burroughs

photos by Joan Marcus

Goddess
The Public Theater, Newman Theater, 425 Lafayette Street
2 hours and 20 minutes, including one intermission
Tues-Sun at 7:00; Sat & Sun at 1 (check for variances)
ends on June 8, 2025
for tickets, call 212.967.7555 or visit The Public

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