By
turns riotously funny and squirmingly uncomfortable, John Cash Carpenter’s
production of Robert Askins’s Hand to God
provides a scathing critique of organized religion from the lips of a
foul-mouthed puppet with never-blinking eyes and a toothy grin. Looking for a
coherent plot? Search elsewhere; Tyrone the puppet’s irreverent brand of
commentary remains the main attraction.
In
a church basement plastered with colorful posters (scenic design by Brandi
Hargrove and director Josh Cash Carpenter), Margery leads a puppet club with teenagers
Jessica, Timmy, and her son Jason. Jason’s father has recently passed, and
Margery uses the puppet club to distract herself from her grief. What begins
innocently enough takes a hard-left turn into something more sinister as Jason
discovers that his puppet Tyrone may be possessed not only by his own talent
and joy but also Satan himself. More a series of sketches than a cohesive
narrative, Hand to God unravels and
goes off the rails as Tyrone gains more and more power and the danger rises.
The
peril comes not only in the form of the satanic puppet, but also through the
sexual harassment endured by the women in the show. Thoughts of the #metoo
movement can’t help but float to the surface over the course of the evening as
time and again men stroke, come on to and grope the women. Even after these
sexual advances, the women are forced embody the role of the comforter for the
men leaning on the crutch of “nice guy syndrome” who use and abuse them all
night. Instead of grasping the opportunity for social commentary and providing
a call to action, Askins reduces the female plight to a series of jokes. Ignoring
the complicit behavior appears impossible, but Askins and Carpenter succeed
anyway. Casual misogyny runs amok from Askins’s plot to Hargrove and
Carpenter’s costume design which reinforces gender norms in their use of
stereotypical color palettes.
Clad
in reds and blues which appear to relate to his character’s teen fan-boy
stereotype, Nicholas Vitela leads the cast in a charged performance, switching
deftly between the roles of Jason and Tyrone. Vitela’s absence in select scenes
triggers the counting of seconds until his return. Unfortunately, the rest of
the cast does not match his level. Jose Moreno as Timmy has memorable moments
such as a particularly manic tear in the basement, but more often than not he pushes
one step too far. Casey Radle’s Margery leans more toward stylized over-acting
than realistic existence. Tatyana Ramirez exudes a youthful innocence in her
portrayal as Jason’s love interest, Jessica, but Carpenter does not fully
utilize her talents. Jabe Reynolds’s Pastor Gregg, clad in 50 shades of drab,
oozes slime from the start. What could have been performed as subtle becomes
awkward, overt, and predatory to the detriment of the production.
The
set design by Carpenter and Hargrove portrays multiple locations due to its
ability to fold inward, creating spaces for Jason’s bedroom and Pastor Gregg’s
office. A particularly clever piece of design was incorporated in the form of
two headlights and a Chevy pickup truck grill bearing the license plates
“Drivin’ for Jesus”. Despite the strengths of the set design, scene transitions
lasted long enough to kill any momentum the show had built up. The technical
elements may soar to the heavens, but the execution drags them right back down
to hell.
Director
Carpenter certainly mounts a production filled with good intentions (and we all
know where the latter are said to lead). What ultimately overcomes the missteps
in this Hand to God is Vitela’s
performance; he puts on a hell of a show.
---Shane Strawbridge
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