Playwright: Ron Hansen. At: Lifeline Theatre, 6912 N. Glenwood. Phone: 773-761-4477; $30. Runs through: April 5. Photo by Suzanne Plunkett
There are religious faiths that incorporate physical expression into their liturgies—Shakers, Beguines, the Mevleviya Sufis—as there are charismatic and Pentecostal congregations who embrace spontaneous theoleptic seizures hearkening back to ancient pagan worship. But the Roman Catholic church, historically, has been invested with considerable temporal, as well as spiritual, power—a position rendering it wary of individuals claiming special status in either realm.
So the Sisters of the Crucifixion are understandably puzzled when a recently admitted postulant to their humble order proceeds to undergo supernatural visions and the inexplicable hemorrhages called "stigmata". Is Mariette a spoiled rich brat seeking attention? Is her excruciation a psychosomatic response to family conflicts? Is the upheaval she generates among the convent's younger denizens rooted in adolescent competition over who will be acknowledged the most popular girl in the class? Or could this pilgrim's disturbing manifestations be fueled by actual divine intervention? Most important, what is to be done about it?
The mysteries of a religion founded on a martyrdom cannot help but encourage a propensity to extravagant behavior. But playgoers will encounter none of the misogynistic clichés—shrieking, thrashing or rending of garments—associated with sexist views of women-in-groups at this Lifeline Theatre production. ( This isn't The Crucible, in other words. ) Age and hormone levels may play a part in shaping the personalities of this sororal microcosm, but author Ron Hansen and adapter Christina Calvit are more interested in the social dynamic within this community whose devotion to serene contemplation is threatened by the prospect of sudden notoriety.
Director Elise Kauzlaric has assembled a dream-team cast of character actresses, led by the alluring Brenda Barrie, whose performance here, as in the recent Beauty On The Vine, conveys just the right proportions of youthful vulnerability and sly calculation to keep us undecided as to the source of Mariette's self-sacrificing ( or self-serving ) zeal. As the flinty Mother Saint Raphaël, her chief adversary, Morgan McCabe likewise strikes a balance between skepticism and envy. Patrice Egleston's icy Rev. Mother Céline and Brian Parry's avuncular Father Marriott project a refreshing dignity in roles easily reduced to popular stereotype, while Alan Donahue's scenic design and Tim Hill's score of sacred music reflect both the severity and the sanctuary of the cloistered life to create a dramatic ambience inviting intellectual discourse for open-minded audiences of all sectarian persuasions.