Muhammad Ali — “the Greatest” — went from athlete to global star. Stepin Fetchit forged a career playing a stereotypically lazy servant, and was considered a joke — worse, a traitor to his race.
And yet somehow, in the ’60s, these men became friends. You can see what drew playwright Will Power to that historical quirk, which forms the basis for his new show, “Fetch Clay, Make Man.”
The action takes place in May 1965, just before Ali’s rematch against Sonny Liston. The heavyweight (Ray Fisher) and his Nation of Islam entourage are holed up in Lewiston, Maine, when Fetchit (the fantastic K. Todd Freeman) arrives.
Apparently Fetchit, born Lincoln Perry, was friends with Jack Johnson, and Ali wants intel on what made that late boxer so powerful.
This is a tricky time for the former Cassius Clay. He’s as cocky as ever, but he’s also unsettled by the death threats he’s been receiving — the Nation of Islam was suspected in Malcolm X’s recent assassination. In any case, Ali’s looking for reassurance.
“What about Kennedy, and he had the Secret Service, and still they couldn’t protect him,” he tells Fetchit. “So what chance does a black man have, especially one as pretty as me.”
Somehow, the odd pairing works, a tribute to the equally surprising addition of director Des McAnuff, famed for flashier Broadway spectacles like “Jersey Boys.” His staging here is so kinetic and stylish — and makes such excellent use of Justin Ellington’s original music — that you stay engaged even when Power’s script loses momentum in the second act.
The actors are on a square, blindingly white platform, sparsely adorned with silver furniture. Paul Tazewell’s costumes are in a black, white and gray palette, except for occasional bursts of bright color on the dresses of Ali’s wife, Sonji.
Too bad the part seems almost extraneous, even if Nikki M. James, a Tony winner for “The Book of Mormon,” gives it vibrant energy.
John Earl Jelks is also appropriately stern as Brother Rashid, but all the best scenes involve Ali and Fetchit.
Fisher nicely balances Ali’s preening energy and his soft voice, but he’s overshadowed by Freeman’s devastating Fetchit. Even as the comedian shuffles his feet, his stare remains sharp and angry. This Stepin Fetchit isn’t submissive but always focused, always weighing options. At its best, the play makes us understand he had no good ones.