In 1558, Queen Elizabeth, trying to reduce factional violence, forbade the use of religious subject matter in English drama. Four-and-a-half centuries later in the United States, it's self-censorship that's created a similar result. Look at American drama from, say, The Glass Menagerie to Glengarry Glen Ross and Fences, and you'll find that most plays simply ignore religious themes; rather, they present us with the secular Lomans and the profane Kowalskis, the worldly Heidi Hollands and the materialist Troy Maxsons. Sure, there's room for ethnicity in American drama — it's just fine to be ethnically Jewish or Irish Catholic — but as for serious drama about religious beliefs and obligations, the pickings are few and far between. The situation is particularly ironic since polls show that more than 90 percent of Americans believe in a supernatural higher power, and 55 percent have recently attended a house of worship. For some reason, we're not seeing these statistics reflected in our theaters (except at Christmastime, thanks to Charles Dickens). And so an essential part of the life — the spiritual journey — goes largely unaddressed by our best playwrights, who seem to have everything to say about every subject but this one.
I mention this odd situation in order to point out why Jobsite Theater's satirical The Bible: The Complete Word of God (abridged), is so refreshing, even with its hit-and-miss humor and its many forays into the juvenile. Yes, The Bible (written by Adam Long, Reed Martin and Austin Tichenor) is often silly rather than funny and doesn't achieve the same degree of invention found in The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged), seen here last year. But in a theater world that usually shies away from religious topics, it's invigorating to find three passionately noisy actors — David M. Jenkins, Jason Evans and Shawn Paonessa — devoting themselves for an hour and three quarters to King Solomon's mind and the difference between the prophets Elijah and Elisha.
And while there's more than enough material here to offend a solemn believer in Moses or Jesus, there's also what appears to be genuine good will in all the clowning ("The Bible is swell!" says one of the harlequins at play's end) and even an attitude toward the audience that might be called camaraderie. "You've noticed certain paradoxes in the Bible," these actors seem to say. "Well, we've noticed them too, and tonight we're naming names." If you're not scandalized by what follows, you'll find it harmless at worst and very funny at best.
Act One of the The Complete Word of God (abridged) is devoted to the Old Testament. On a bare stage, furnished only with a guitar and a toy boat (Noah's Ark, as it turns out), actors Jenkins, Evans and Paonessa first appear clad in little more than fig leaves. Then they put on Biblical-looking tunics (designed by Katrina Stevenson) and sing the "In the Beginning Blues": "On Wednesday He made vegetables/ On Thursday celestial light/ On Friday He made poultry and fish/ On Saturday He partied all night."
For the next 45 minutes or so, some of the most celebrated of Bible stories are subjected to the trio's parodies. Adam cohabits with Eve ("And Adam knew Eve his wife, in fact, he knew her extremely well for there was no one else to hang out with"); Cain's sacrifice displeases God ("I have brought the Fruit of the Loom as an offering unto Thee"); the generations of Adam are treated as a rap song ("They were begattin' in the fields/ Begattin' in the straw/ Begattin' fully clothed/ Begattin' in the raw"); and humankind's languages are divided after the Tower of Babel ("José!?! Maria!?! Qué paso aqui?").
Then Abraham learns that he's about to be knighted ("I will dub thee Sir Cumcision"); Isaac is nearly sacrificed ("I was kidding!"); and Moses, like an ancient David Letterman, recounts the Top 10 Rejected Commandments ("No. 8: Thou shalt let the poor fend for themselves. Oh, sorry. No, that's the Republican agenda"). A little backtracking gives us Jacob and the Angel as tag team wrestling; the "funniest sections of the Book of Job," as a moment of silence; and David vs. Goliath in ridiculously slow motion. And before the act ends, we're reminded — inevitably — that "Jeremiah was a bullfrog."
Act Two is mostly New Testament. First, Jenkins, Evans and Paonessa play the Three Wise Men arguing over who's bringing baby Jesus the best gift ("I"ll show you mine, you show me yours"). Jesus is born to a refrain of "For He's a Jolly Good Savior," and soon meets up with John the Baptist wielding a florist's spray bottle. John tries to dissuade Salome from marrying Herod ("Oh no! Oh no! That cannot be!/ With your uncle don't be coital!/ I don't believe incest is best/ It makes kids mongoloidal!"). And then Jesus tells Joseph and Mary he's leaving the carpentry trade "to, well, get my head together." Chronology is interrupted with a sometimes hilarious Noah's Ark segment — audience members are asked to come up on stage and make animal noises — and then Jesus is back performing several ridiculously phony "miracles."
Perhaps the best segment of the act is "The Last Supper," in which a tapestry of the famous painting, with holes where the heads should be, is used by the three actors in a desperate attempt to play Jesus and every disciple's parts. Finally, the crucifixion is followed by a resurrection complete with Easter Bunny and basket; there's a silly song about Armageddon; and good night.
Is it an entirely successful evening? No, not by a long shot. Too many of the gags are ultimately meaningless, and the wonderful imaginativeness of Shakespeare (abridged) is never matched. But the three actors, following director/designer Stevenson's kinetic direction, are wonderfully high-spirited, provoking joy through their vivacity almost regardless of the script's failings. This may not be a top-notch play, but it's often a good time.
And since the subject is that strangely taboo item, religion … Well, this Bible, silly jokes and all, is a breath of fresh air.
Ultramodern Dance Looking for something wild? The Emit series of experimental music presents the Tampa dance collective Moving Current in a concert on Thurs., Jan. 9, at the Palladium Theatre in St. Petersburg. The program features work by choreographers Erin Cardinal, Cynthia Hennessy, Lisa Tobias and Matt Caudill, along with music by Lloyd Goldstein, David Manson and the trance group PoOg. Admission is $10, $8 students/seniors. The Palladium is located at 253 Fifth Ave. N., St. Petersburg. Call 727-822-3590.
Contact performing arts critic Mark E. Leib at mark.leib@weeklyplanet.com or call 813-248-8888, ext. 305.
This article appears in Jan 8-14, 2003.
