In a room packed full with friends, loved ones and supporters, Geoff Davin helped ring down the curtain on the world premiere of The First Church of Mary, The Repentant Prostitute's Fifth Annual Benefit Concert, Revival and Pot Luck Dinner Friday night by reminding those people that they were, indeed, the first to witness the show which heretofore had resided in his creative brain and great big heart. With an artful blending of luck and determination, it could well be the harbinger of more nights just like it to come: Times when those initial First Church of Mary virgins will remember when...in an effort to prove their street cred and elevate their level of coolness.
For, make no bones about it: The First Church of Mary, The Repentant Prostitute's Fifth Annual Benefit Concert, Revival and Pot Luck Dinner (or "Prostitute's Picnic," as it was called by director Martha Wilkinson in her pre-show welcome to the congregants gathered at BLDG Nashville for opening night) deserves bigger audiences, more vociferous acclaim and a life far beyond the walls of the intimate venue in which it was first introduced to the public-at large.
How to describe the experience is not an easy task, for this particular Prostitute's Picnic is perhaps unlike anything you've seen before. A celebration of church, pop culture, Southern food and fellowship, all set to a musical score filled with original songs written by the creator - aka Davin, some in collaboration with a bevy of his talented cohorts - and new arrangements of traditional gospel tunes that represent a particular brand of religious fervor, leavened with a modicum of hellfire and brimstone. It's an outlandish, tremendously entertaining and only slightly scary in the I-hope-I'm-not-struck-down-by-lightening manner of things, evening of theater that will leave your mouth agape, your soul soaring and your mind reeling from the performances onstage.
We definitely went to church last night - and may well have found ourselves in heaven, for all I know - I am just happy to say that I was there for the fervant worship, laugh-out-loud froth and fun, and for the barbecue dinner provided since we forgot to bring a covered dish.
Davin is cast as Adamenses Huckster, a revivalist preacher who would make Aimee Semple McPherson blanch and leave Tammy Faye Bakker asking where she buys her pantsuits, high heels and costume jewelry. She's over-the-top in her, well, "Hucksterism," imploring her congregation - oh, hell, her audience - to fill the coffers of her so-called church with funds for her planned trip to Honolulu, where a single can of Spam can feed a poor child for at least six months. Davin's alter ego Adamenses is bold and brash, overbearing and relentlessly chipper: a not-so-reformed working girl who has simply found a holier corner from which to ply her wares.
Davin's portrayal, though larger than life, somehow remains completely believable, if somewhat frightening in her awe-inspiring realness. While making Adamenses such a towering figure, both literally and figuratively, he manages to retain something about her that may hit a little close to home for those audience members raised in the charismatic church tradition.
He is joined onstage by a quartet of Nashville's finest divas, who are directed by Music City's ultimate musical theater diva Wilkinson, in a fast-paced revue that never loses sight of its intentions and always keeps the audience engaged in the story unfolding before their eyes. Megan Murphy Chambers, cast as Charlotte aka Charley (Adamenses' put-upon and long-sufferning aide-de-camp), gives a startling performance that allows her to evolve from meek helpmate to a Frankenstein's monster of sorts, without a hint of falseness. Watch her during her quieter moments for a master class in acting, her incredulous looks and heartfelt expressions underscoring her character's arc.
As Adamenses' trio of back-up singers, Jennifer Whitcomb-Oliva, Brooke Leigh Davis and Rosemary Fossee are a beautifully voiced and whimsically choreographed chorus who offer their take on the onstage action, while adding greatly to the overall effect of the performance with their expert comic timing and superb delivery. And, despite an ankle-wrapping tracking device, a pair of Daisy Dukes worn by a Mormon and countless bags of potato chips, the three women look absolutely gorgeous in the far-fetched tale.
Somehow, despite the musical's rather melodramatic overtones, Wilkinson helps the actors to retain a sense of reality that breathes life into what easily could have become cartoonish caricatures. The show isn't perfect, of course (what show ever is?), and the script could stand a little trimming to ensure that it moves at a breakneck speed, which admittedly might render audiences semi-conscious by show's end, thereby making them more pliable and eager to empty their wallets into the church's "donation dish," as Wilkinson says. That's the point of evangelism, right?
The music is performed by a seven-member band that will knock your socks off - this is Music City, after all, so what else would you expect? - giving remarkable support to the performers onstage and somehow making the quintet of gifted singers sound even better than expected. Kudos to Michael San Miguel (who plays Dirk, Adamenses' boytoy, and plays guitar), Walt Scott (on keyboard), Matt Wigton (bass), Same Wiseman (drums), Tyler Summers (alto sax, tenor sax, baritone sax and clarinet - and whom is for all the amazing horn arrangements), Roy Agee (trombone) and Jim Williamson (trumpet and flugelhorn).
You have two more chances to see the show (which is surprisingly less profane than you might think; you'd hear more colorful language over lunch with me, for example) and to count yourself among the first converts to the cause. So try to finagle some reservations and find out what all your friends will be talking about in the days to come.
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