REVIEW: Hand to God (Keegan Theatre)
“What do you do, with a B.A. in English? What is my life going to—”
Wait. Wrong puppet show.
Though, nobody could blame you for confusion with Avenue Q if you tried explaining some parts of Hand to God, the latest production at Dupont’s Keegan Theatre, to an average person. The Tony-nominated 2015 play is just as raunchy as (scratch that: way more raunchy) than its puppeted antecedent, but aims squarely at the Christian ideal of shame instead of the broadness of adult life. It’s a bold, and often uncomfortable piece, but has its moments of jovial clarity and laughs that keep it together.
Book
Playwright Robert Askins grew up in the small conservative town of Cypress, Texas, on the northwestern fringe of Houston; the play takes place here, at the fictional Christian Puppet Ministry. Jason is a shy boy, deep into making a puppet sermon routine under the tutelage of his overbearingly devout and recently-widowed mother Margery. Also developing their own puppet sermons are Jessica, the “girl next door” on whom Jason has a crush, and Timmy, a school bully. After a particularly troubled evening, Jason’s puppet Tyrone develops its own malevolent personality. Seemingly a representation of all of Jason’s “impure” thoughts, the puppet on his hand effectively possesses the boy. Initially played for gags, the puppet becomes an exorcist-like force that terrorizes the others, impacting their relationships and leading to bizarre instances of sexual outbursts (of questionable legality) and bloodletting violence. It goes insane trying to tell a functional fable, but much of it feels empty. The book relies a lot on the shock value of puppet breasts, baroque profanity, and missing appendages to illustrate Tyrone’s corruption of the boy, rarely offering any further critique of the religious systems that plague his behavior. This is driven home by the show’s….”climax”, which doesn’t do well to resolve many of the problems that plagued the characters to begin with. Yet, the dialogue inbetween feels naturally bawdy. Each character is given their own personality to bounce off, creating effective relationships that do feel like they buckle under the weight of the insanity. But even if they did, it still feels too much like a fever dream to believe things would play out like they do. 5/10
Acting
Drew Sharpe: how do you do it?! The man is masterful in his control of both the timidness of Jason and uncouthness of Tyrone’s puppetry, especially as the dual roles become substantially more aggressive in action and dialogue. It’s a surprisingly physical role, too, with so much strength required to bring just one hand puppet to life via rapid jerks and tense restraint. (I’m not sure if he’s ever worked with puppets before, but it seemed effortless for him. Tyrone’s body language was flawless.) Hannah Taylor’s Jessica, too, handles her puppetry as Jolene with great personality, though this is limited to the second act — beyond the puppet, her performance remains splendid. Margery is a role that I’m not even sure how you would approach given the wild fluctuations she takes: but somehow, some way, Shadia Hafiz pulls it off. She’s a broken mother underneath the zeal, and when the book allows Hafiz to reveal this, it’s believably tender. 9/10
Production
Another Keegan production, another use of the revolve. Is that it?
…because it’s still really cool. I always love seeing how they use it, and the staging by Matthew Keenan is yet another exciting use. He creates three slices of scenery: the church basement (Hell), the Church offices where Pastor Greg works (Heaven), and a third, neutral space used as everything from a bedroom to a car (Purgatory). Sometimes, they’re all used simultaneously, as we watch different characters do different things. (The transformation of the basement over time is particularly humorous.) It’s Sage Green’s infernal lighting that does it for us a lot of the time, too, with several bouts of hellish reds and pensive indigoes. And as avid readers know: I love puppets. Luke Hartwood’s puppet designs are a bit rudimental, but what they lack in initial pizzazz they make up for in an evolving sense of scale that adds more devilishness to them and inflates the acting ceiling of the performers. 8/10
Viz
Try not to be bewildered by the mandatory saturation of the church basement depicted pre-show. There’s tons of environmental detail, from the books on the shelves, to the “puppet first aid”, to the Jesus decor that evoke a sort-of cursed kumbaya; the loud Christian rock that accompanies this certainly helps (?), too. Some of those songs are….something. (Big kudos to the sound designer Brandon Cook for having to sort through them.) It all feels over the top Christian: a perfect vibe to set up what religious craziness is about to go down. 9/10
Verdict
Hand to God could stand to be a stronger commentary on the impacts of religious trauma, but the practical effects, dirty humor, and ever-worsening chaos might just scratch that comedic itch. 31/40
