Salt Lake City Reviews of Hand to God Play
Two words. Puppet sex. Yes. Those two words practise really mean "puppets having sex," which was non at all what I expected last night during the preview of Robert Askins' devilishly funny play Hand to God at Table salt Lake Acting Company. And, while I've no prior experience evaluating the quality of imitation paw puppet intercourse in a theatrical setting, I'grand pretty sure they nailed it.
Thanks to Artery Q, we at present have a sub-genre of theater that employs previously beautiful and innocent puppets in united nations-cute and depraved enterprises. Hand to God confidently claims this space and strides purposely forward into brave new cursing lands. Set in a Texas-ish church building Sunday school classroom, the ensemble is preparing a boob presentation for the main congregation overseen by Pastor Greg (Daniel Beecher).
The boob master (mistress) is the lovely Margery (Alexandra Harbold) who is latching onto Jesus—and this whole puppet affair—to keep the wheels on following the unexpected death of her husband. Her son, Jason (Riley O'Toole) an un-athletic, slight boy who naturally excels at puppetry, is struggling alongside his mother (mightily, nosotros will discover). Meanwhile the girl, Jessica (Amy Ware) puckishly fends of the creepy advances of the form great Timothy (Nathan Vaughn) who has a boner (literally) for Margery.
Thus, the scene is set for Jason's mental breakdown or literal possession by the devil—the play muddies this water here (bloodies it, actually). His boob, Tyrone, somehow acquires teeth (again, literally) and takes on the globe—mother, pastor, bully—and woos the daughter that Jason likes as only a demonic hand puppet can.
This shit is funny. It's likewise dark and foreign and makes for a succulent evening of theater that also includes some pretty impressive puppetry from the players. This is the best bear witness of SLAC'due south season, it's cool and raw and every actor on the stage gets to striking the gas as the play moves through its many absurd and startling high notes.
O'Toole's grapheme(southward), possessed as he/they is/are, gets all the best lines and shines as the schizoid Jason/Tyrone. This includes a spot-on "Who'south on First" bit and convincingly boot his own mitt'south donkey at the play's freaky and bloody climax.
Harbold plays a female parent (and puppetry teacher) at her wit's end, lashing out against and toward everyone—and thing— around her. Her fiery fight with Vaughn's Timothy is at in one case hilarious and frightening as she runs right up to and so crosses the line. Vaughn'south trashy Benjamin Braddock chip is awesome and even a little scary. Turns out the homo-cub has claws.
To the mealy-mouthed rescue comes Pastor Greg, the milquetoast, sexually frustrated church leader faced with maybe of having to perform an exorcism in his own Lord's day school class room. At first, he'south equal parts skeezy and smarmy merely Beecher plays the Pastor with depth and we warm to him as he somewhat bravely faces the WTF shit happening in his church's basement with every bit much dignity and wisdom as anyone could muster.
Now nosotros go to the boob sexual practice. Y'all think the puppet sex correct?
Jessica's buxom mitt puppet named (what else?) Jolene, gamely takes on the fiendish Tyrone and Amy Ware plays this incredibly awkward scene to a perfect cringing conclusion. How, you might ask, does this happen? I tin can't really explain. It's sort of a seeing-is-believing deal here simply I'grand giggling just thinking about it.
Gage William's set is spot-on. It includes details but someone who has been to Sunday school would know—the creepy Jesus-with-adoring-children picture, the dingy, ratchet toys on the shelf, the hand-me-down chairs. It was right, right down to the Christ is Lord bobble head on the Pastor's desk.
Director Christopher Duval, whose credits include a specialization in stage combat, must have had a smash directing the puppet-on-puppet, puppet-on-human being and human-on-human violence that courses throughout the play. Bravo on some assuredly epic battles between homo and felt.
Mitt to God is a very interesting—albeit profane—play about and then much more than mere puppet sex and violence. It's a play about realizing you can't blame your ain failings, mistakes or plain old man frailty on either God or the devil.
The puppet fabricated me do it.
Hand to God runs through May 14 at Salt Lake Acting Company. Tickets and info here.
Source: https://www.saltlakemagazine.com/review-slacs-hand-god/
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