Theatre in Review: An Act of God (Studio 54)

	Jim Parsons, Christopher Fitzgerald. Photo: Jeremy Daniel

Jean Kerr, possibly reacting to Archibald MacLeish's J.B., once noted -- I'm paraphrasing slightly -- that, no offense intended, but for all practical purposes, in the theatre, God is a lousy part. Having seen An Act of God, I'm not sure I disagree. But if Kerr had seen Jim Parsons in action, she might have, at the very least, amended that quote. If the ruckus at Studio 54 proves anything, it's that God can make for some pretty good standup.

The premise of David Javerbaum's comedy is that He has deigned to appear on a Broadway stage, inhabiting the body of actor Jim Parsons, in order to make His wishes known to us. "The irony of him starring in a show called The Big Bang Theory...I just couldn't resist," we are told. "In the desert I appeared as a burning bush. On Broadway, I appear as Sheldon Cooper. Know thy audience." He also notes, "My depthless profundities will be aided by his offbeat charms."

And that is a pretty good summation of An Act of God. Aided by his two angelic "Genesistants,"Michael and Gabriel, God holds forth for the next 90 minutes on all manner of things. He complains, "Yea, I have grown weary of the Ten Commandments, in exactly the same way that Don McLean has grown weary of 'American Pie.'" Confronted with a question about evolution, he dismisses his interlocutor as "Neil DeGrasse Pagan" before confirming it is entirely his doing, even adding, "I booked Darwin's cruise." On the subject of omniscience, he notes that, even if he can know everything, he chooses not to: For example, he was shocked to discover who shot JR, and he got the solution to The Sixth Sense totally wrong. And fed up with certain members of the religious right, he snaps, "Apparently, there's a 'God-given right to guns.' Really? What part of the Bible did you find that in? The part with all the guns in it? What book? What chapter? Colt 45? AK-47?"

Seated on a little bench downstage center -- this is the least mobile performance since Bette Midler took Broadway as Sue Mengers in I'll Eat You Last -- Parsons holds forth with an assurance that can truly be called divine. Thoroughly relaxed, yet always, always on point, he makes the most of the script's real zingers and buries the weaker ones with equal aplomb. The actor made a strong impression as a sharp-tongued, Southern-accented gay activist in The Normal Heart and as the bibulous hero of Harvey, but here he reveals an entirely new side of his talent, rarely ceding the stage for a full 90 minutes while he unburdens himself of God's outrageous opinions with matchless hauteur. He's Caligula crossed with Charlie Brown, a divine despot whose chatty manner doesn't entirely mask a willingness, when crossed, to dispatch naysayers to perdition. Parsons' timing is faultless enough to be studied by students of comedy; a nonplussed reaction to a difficult question is, time and again, the perfect setup for an enormous laugh. Apparently, not even God gets all the best material, but in Parsons' hands, miracles are worked, turning even the most leaden line into something far more precious.

Indeed, gold is what they should be paying Parsons, for he surely makes An Act of God seem much better than it is. Little more than a deified comedy routine, its ostensible premise is that God has descended to earth to deliver a new set of commandments, most of them tailored to those audience members who used to tune in regularly to The Daily Show, where Javerbaum was a writer/producer. They include "Thou shalt not tell others whom to fornicate," "Thou shalt separate me and state," and "Thou shalt not seek a personal relationship with me." Really, I'm surprised that Sarah Palin hasn't yet offered a Facebook post, consigning to hell Javerbaum, Parsons, and everybody else involved in the production, right down to the ushers.

As a humorist-cum-theologian, Javerbaum is only so-so. Some of these passages are funny and others threaten to descend into, well, preaching. On the whole, they are a little too predictable; the passage about Jesus is surprisingly dull. Parsons gets his biggest laughs when dealing with more mundane matters, making catty comments about Patti LuPone, the Kardashian clan, and the upcoming presidential election. "I mean, the look on Ted Cruz's face when I told him he was the anointed, the one destined to usher America into a new golden age of Christendom...that's comedy gold, right there."

Everything else about An Act of God is aces, including Tim Kazurinsky as the sycophantic Gabriel, producing a Gutenberg Bible out of a guitar case ("For the publishing industry it's been downhill ever since," God notes) and Christopher Fitzgerald as Michael, whose fondness for unanswerable questions costs him one of his wings. The production is almost comically lavish: Scott Pask's set consists of a series of white concentric circles -- it looks rather like the old Looney Tunes logo -- with, at the center, a circular projection screen on which is seen images of passing clouds and fiery flames. There is also a pop-up Ten Commandments, which looks surprisingly like the game board used on Family Feud. The set is lit with infinite creativity by Hugh Vanstone, who makes especially clever use of cove lighting to create pastel color treatments. David Zinn's costumes dress God in white robes, over jeans and sneakers; Michael and Gabriel have slick, fashionably cut white suits to go with their wings. Fitz Patton's amusing sound design includes passages of Biblical-epic-style music; a rumbling, distorted God voice for the opening, and perfectly timed rimshots for some of the (purposely) cheesier gags. ("Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Neither. The rooster came first.")

If An Act of God amounts to the triumph of a performer over a thinnish evening, there's little question that it delivers 90 minutes of hilarity to an audience that is familiar with Javerbaum's work with Jon Stewart and, currently, with James Corden's The Late Late Show. As God himself notes, Know thy audience: "You see, celebrities are my chosen people," God notes. "I know, the Jews are also my chosen people but...there's a lot of overlap." -- David Barbour