“I love this story. I think you are taking an archetypal story (washed up has been), but adding in layers about race relations, music, and identity to the mix. I'm intrigued by Norma and want to root for her. Also, strangely, I think she is someone who many people can identify with because we have all felt out of place or old or washed up at times in our lives, but had to push on and find a new way. She is flawed, but strong, which is the best type of character.”
-Emily Kaiser
Shreveport, Louisiana, 1933. EUGENE BUTLER (20s), an ambitious young Black man, rushes into the Lottie Theater clutching a leather folder filled with sheet music. The marquee reads, "The Return of the Godmother of Blues." Eugene heads to the balcony, where Black patrons are seated, watching the elegantly dressed white audience on the main floor.
Backstage, NORMA ANN WATERS (50s), a strong-willed blues legend, strides through a busy backstage, parting the commotion around her. Though dressed in once-glamorous, now faded garments, she exudes confidence. At her side is her fast-talking manager, RAY RUSSELL JR. (60s) , a sharp-dressed, charming man with a winning smile. Their path is blocked by the PROMOTER (60s), an imposing white man, who scolds Norma for being late and reminds her that she’ll have to follow his rules if she wants a spot on his stage. Unfazed, Norma takes a long drag of her cigarette, letting the smoke carelessly travel into the Promoter’s face before heading to her dressing room.
In her dressing room, Norma struggles with the zipper on her dress. Ray suggests she wear a new dress he brought, but she insists on the old one. When she asks Ray to arrange her band, he reveals she’ll be performing with the house band instead. Ray tries to encourage her to embrace a “swing” style for the show, but Norma sees this as yet another attempt by the white industry to erase the authenticity of her blues music. Ray, knowing her career is on the line, reminds her this might be her last chance.
When Norma takes the stage, she requests the pianist play her song in Eb, but he only knows it in A. She performs, but the music is bland and lacks the soul she’s known for. While the white audience claps politely, the Black audience in the balcony remains unimpressed. As she scans the crowd, she notices a white woman mocking her worn sleeve. Eugene overhears a Black woman in the balcony murmur, “This ain’t the Norma Waters I remember.” Discouraged by the hollow, soulless music, Norma leaves the stage abruptly.
Backstage, Norma confronts the Promoter, telling him she won’t sing “soulless” music. In response, he reveals that Columbia Records representatives will be in the audience the following night but only if she sticks to his song choices. Defeated, Norma retreats to her dressing room, where Ray tries to comfort her, but she questions the point of pandering to an industry that doesn’t value her voice or story.
They’re interrupted by Eugene, who claims he has exactly what she’s looking for. Overflowing with admiration for her music, he hands her his sheet music, but she dismisses him. As Ray escorts Eugene out, a paper falls from his folder—a signed flyer from one of Norma’s past performances. Eugene explains that the flyer belonged to his late mother, her biggest fan, who used to sing Norma’s songs to him as a child. Touched by his story, Norma decides to give him a chance, despite Ray’s objections.
Later that night, in an empty theater, Norma and Eugene sit at the piano to rehearse. He nervously fumbles about the piano. Norma tells him that nervousness won’t cut it in this business. She points to her heart, urging him to “do what feels right here.” Eugene reflects, then asks why she stopped singing. Initially guarded, Norma asks about his mother, and he recalls the songs she loved. Norma opens up about losing her own mother, who inspired her to embrace her voice’s power. She shares how the industry made her famous but stripped away her voice. Now, she’s ready to reclaim it—and tells Eugene it’s time he embraces his own. Encouraged, Eugene plays with passion, captivating the theater’s cleaning staff.
The following night, Ray knocks on Norma’s door, urging her to get ready. This time, she dons the sparkling new dress. As she heads to the stage, Eugene sneaks on the piano. Ray and Norma spot Columbia Records executives in the audience, but the Promoter steps in, insisting she won’t be allowed on stage due to rebelling against his plans yet again. The curtains open—to silence. The audience sit confused. Standing offstage, Norma clenches her fist and starts to sing: “I ain’t neva lettin’ go of the Blues.” The band joins in, building up to a powerful, soulful tune. The white audience claps and smiles, but in the balcony, the Black audience members begin to file out. Just as Norma fears she’s lost them, they return through the main floor doors and congregate around the stage filled with energy and celebration. Watching from the wings, Ray smiles at the Promoter, whispering, “She’s back!”