Most people think they know Louis Armstrong. You see the wide, toothy grin, the handkerchief, and you hear that gravelly voice singing about green trees and red roses. It feels safe. It feels like a postcard. But the Broadway production of A Wonderful World: The Louis Armstrong Musical—which recently wrapped its run at Studio 54—was anything but a safe, Hallmark-card version of history.
If you went in expecting a standard "and then he wrote this hit" jukebox show, you were probably in for a shock. Honestly, it was kind of a gutsy move. Instead of letting Louis tell his own story, the show hands the mic to the four women who actually had to live with him. It’s a messy, loud, and frequently heartbreaking look at a man who changed music while often breaking the hearts of those closest to him.
The Four Wives Who Actually Ran the Show
The structure of this musical is its weirdest and best feature. It doesn't just go chronologically for the sake of it; it splits Louis’s life into four distinct "mini-operas" based on his wives and the cities they inhabited together.
- Daisy Parker (New Orleans): This is the gritty start. Daisy was a tough-as-nails woman working in the red-light district of New Orleans. Dionne Figgins played her with a sort of jagged edge that reminds you Armstrong didn't come from some polished jazz club—he came from the dirt.
- Lil Hardin (Chicago): This is where the music gets serious. Lil (Jennie Harney-Fleming) wasn't just a wife; she was a classically trained pianist who basically "invented" the Louis Armstrong the world eventually fell in love with. She bought him the clothes. She taught him how to lead. One of the most biting parts of the show is realizing that without Lil, Louis might have stayed a "country bumpkin" second-trumpet player forever.
- Alpha Smith (Hollywood): The glam era. This section handles the transition to film and the high-flying life in Los Angeles. It’s also where the cracks in Louis’s character—specifically his wandering eye—become impossible to ignore.
- Lucille Wilson (New York): The final chapter. Lucille (Darlesia Cearcy) was the one who finally gave him a real home in Queens. She’s the anchor of the second act, dealing with a man who has become a global icon but is physically and emotionally exhausted.
James Monroe Iglehart: More Than an Impression
You’ve probably seen James Monroe Iglehart before. He won a Tony for playing the Genie in Aladdin, so the guy has energy for days. But playing "Satchmo" is a different beast entirely.
🔗 Read more: A Simple Favor Blake Lively: Why Emily Nelson Is Still the Ultimate Screen Mystery
He doesn't just do a Saturday Night Live-style impression. He gets the weight of the man. Armstrong was only about 5'6", and Iglehart is a big guy, but you forget that within five minutes. The way he mimics the "trumpet embouchure"—the specific way a horn player purses their lips—is uncanny. Interestingly, he isn't actually playing the trumpet on stage; that’s the work of phenomenal off-stage musicians like Alphonso Horne. But the illusion is so tight you’d swear Iglehart was blowing those high Cs himself.
The show doesn't shy away from the "Uncle Tom" accusations that dogged Armstrong later in his life. There’s a scene with Lincoln Perry (the actor known as Stepin Fetchit) that is probably the most uncomfortable and important moment in the musical. They talk about "masking"—wearing a goofy, smiling face to make white audiences feel safe so that a Black artist can actually get paid and survive. It turns the song "When You’re Smiling" from a happy ditty into a survival strategy. It's heavy stuff for a Broadway musical.
What Most People Get Wrong About the History
The book by Aurin Squire takes some "artistic liberties," which has riled up some jazz purists. For example, there’s a scene where King Joe Oliver is playing "It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing)" in 1923.
💡 You might also like: The A Wrinkle in Time Cast: Why This Massive Star Power Didn't Save the Movie
The problem? Duke Ellington didn't write that song until 1932.
If you’re a music history nerd, that kind of thing might make your eye twitch. But the musical uses these anachronisms to show the vibe of the era rather than a strict Wikipedia timeline. It’s more interested in the emotional truth of how these people felt than the exact date a record was cut at Gennett Records.
Why the Show Ended Early
Despite rave reviews for the performances, the production closed in February 2025. Why? Broadway is a brutal business. While the show had a "Pop" feel, it was competing with massive spectacles and established hits. Some critics felt the "four wives" structure made the pacing a bit jerky—you’d just start liking one actress before she was swapped out for the next city.
📖 Related: Cuba Gooding Jr OJ: Why the Performance Everyone Hated Was Actually Genius
But for those who saw it, the consensus was clear: it was a rare biographical musical that didn't treat its subject like a saint. It showed Louis as a man who could be selfish, a man who loved weed (he was a lifelong "viper"), and a man who was deeply lonely even when thousands were cheering for him.
How to Experience the Legacy Today
Since the Broadway run has concluded, you can’t catch this specific staging right now, but the impact of A Wonderful World: The Louis Armstrong Musical has sparked a massive renewed interest in the "real" Satchmo.
If you want to get the same feeling the musical provided, here is how you should actually dive into the history:
- Visit the Louis Armstrong House Museum: Located in Corona, Queens, this was the home he shared with Lucille (the fourth wife). It’s exactly as they left it—frozen in time with 1960s wallpaper and his original tape recordings.
- Listen to the "Hot Fives and Hot Sevens": If the musical’s Chicago section intrigued you, these are the recordings where Lil Hardin and Louis changed the DNA of American music.
- Read "Pops" by Terry Teachout: This biography was a major source of inspiration for the nuance seen in the play. It covers the mob ties, the marriages, and the civil rights stands he took later in life.
The musical reminded us that "What a Wonderful World" wasn't a song about how perfect things were. It was a song written by a man who had seen the worst of the 20th century—the lynchings, the world wars, the poverty—and chose to look for the light anyway. That’s not just jazz history; that’s a lesson in how to live.