Blasphemy, brilliance on balance
Demonic sock puppet invades Christian ministry in hilarious ‘Hand to God’ play
Beware the wrath of Tyrone. He may be a wee bit of gray sock with bright orange fringe otherwise known as a hand puppet, but he’s also a manifestation of the Devil (maybe), and he’s got vengeance on his mind in the offbeat gem
REVIEW
“Hand to God.”
The foul-mouthed fiend takes possession of a hapless Texas teenager’s left arm in Robert Askins’ devilishly funny 100-minute comedy of exorcisms. Amid the nation’s current battle between church and state, this Tony-nominated yarn about rehearsals for a Christian puppet show in the basement of a suburban Texas church has an oversize bite. David Ivers slyly directs this wonderfully blasphemous comedy in its regional premiere through March 19 at Berkeley Repertory Theatre. It’s miraculously funny, at a time when many of us need a laugh, but it’s also acutely insightful about the yearning for religion.
This gleefully subversive show slides from comedy to horror with a splash. If you thought “Avenue Q” was irreverent, prepare yourself for profanity-spewing tirades of biblical proportions. The swearing here would make Triumph the Insult Comic Dog blush. We’re talking arias of curses so elaborate they’re almost as witty as they are filthy.
Tyrone, not content to sit submissively on the arm of the meek and awkward boy Jason (Michael Doherty), decides to channel every perverse impulse from the hormone-addled teen’s rabid id. There’s a lot of angst and bile to work with, because it’s only been six months since Jason’s father died of a heart attack and his church-going mother Margery (Laura Odeh) is coming unhinged. It was her idea to start a Christian puppet ministry under the watchful eye of Pastor Greg (David Kelly), but little did she know that idle hands aren’t the only devil’s workshop.
It seems Pastor Greg has more on his mind than saving souls, for starters, but there’s sin everywhere you look in this Sunday school basement. The usually shy Jason can’t cope with the tidal wave of pain he’s feeling, he can’t express frustrations with his faith, and he’s desperately in need of salvation. Only Tyrone comes to the rescue.
When a fellow puppeteer, the loutish Timothy (Michael McIntire) takes some swipes at Jessica (a wry turn by Carolina Sanchez), the object of Jason’s affection, Tyrone unleashes a storm of retribution on behalf of his alter ego.
It’s the eerie symbiotic relationship between Doherty and the puppet that transports this piece out of the realm of comedy and into something so good it’s scary. The alchemy of the puppetry here, although it ignores the rules of ventriloquism, is startling. We see the actor’s mouth move when Tyrone launches his tirades but the puppet is so vividly voiced and animated that it seems to come to life.
It’s hard not to watch Tyrone. He’s got almost hypnotic chemistry.
Don’t even get me started on his idea of wooing, when he gets smitten with Jessica’s comely puppet Jolene. If hardcore puppet-on-puppet action makes you squeamish, be prepared to avert your eyes. The conversation that the puppeteers have, while the socks are getting, um, intimate is so far past hilarious even the most jaded viewer may laugh until the tears flow.
Beneath the satanic verses, Askins asks some incisive questions about just what constitutes human nature and why we crave a sense of order. Each actor digs into the details of the depravity at hand with unshakable seriousness, which makes it all the funnier. Ivers toggles back and forth between giggles and gore so deftly that it’s hard to catch your breath as the blasphemy bubbles over.
Everyone in this churchyard succumbs to their baser instincts as the play unfolds. Tyrone calls them all out on the primal desires they’re hiding beneath their platitudes, and each one of them crumbles under the weight of temptation. Hate, lust, violence and fear rage inside them all, much like everybody. Heaven help us all.