In a theological tug of war, the laughs win

September 25, 2009|Don Aucoin, Globe Staff

‘Dying is easy. Comedy is hard,’’ an actor supposedly said on his deathbed. Yes, and comedy about religion may be hardest of all.

But SpeakEasy Stage Company brings it off in fine style in a production of Evan Smith’s “The Savannah Disputation,’’ thanks to a quartet of first-rate performances led by Nancy E. Carroll and Paula Plum.

Is “The Savannah Disputation’’ groundbreaking? No. Is it profound? Not really, though its merry clash of ideas does suggest that, theatrically speaking, a spoonful of sugar helps the metaphysics go down. But is it funny? Most definitely.

It’s clear that with a less capable ensemble and a less sure-handed director than Paul Daigneault, certain elements of “Disputation’’ could be cloying or obvious. This is a play that occasionally tilts toward sitcom superficiality. But Carroll, Plum, and company consistently yank it back on track, into the realm of the plausibly and richly human.

Improbable as it may sound to Bostonians (including this onetime altar boy), “Disputation’’ turns a quiet home in Savannah, Ga., of all places, into a theological battleground in which the finer points of Roman Catholic doctrine are thrashed out.

On one side are two aging sisters, curmudgeonly Mary (Carroll), seemingly born with a scowl on her face, and timid, fluttering Margaret (Plum), who seems perpetually poised on the verge of flight. Mary and Margaret are lifelong Catholics, but it will turn out that their grasp on the tenets of their faith is shaky.

On the other side is Melissa (Carolyn Charpie), a peppy, Bible-brandishing young evangelical missionary who is determined to persuade the sisters - or at least Margaret - to renounce Catholicism and thus save their eternal souls. When Margaret protests that, after all, Catholics believe in Jesus, Melissa serenely replies: “Well, yes, but not in exactly the right way. Not in the way that gets you into heaven.’’

“So Catholics don’t get into heaven?’’ Margaret asks anxiously. Melissa: “Well, it’s bad form for me to say this so soon, but no.’’ Margaret: “You think I’m going to hell?’’ Melissa: “Well, you seem awfully nice. . .’’ Margaret: “Thank you. You do, too.’’ Melissa: “Thanks. But - nice don’t save ya from hellfire.’’

All this infuriates Mary, who mobilizes a secret weapon in the person of Father Patrick Murphy (Timothy Crowe). She invites the priest to dinner and arranges for young Melissa to arrive shortly thereafter, in hopes the worldly and scholarly Father Murphy will rebut Melissa’s ideas and restore Margaret’s shaken faith (and maybe Mary’s as well).

Advertisement
Advertisement
|
|
|
|