First, let’s give a hand to the performer in Keegan Theatre’s Hand to God who spends most of Robert Askins’ raucous comedy with his fist inserted firmly up another performer in the cast.
It’s not weird, in practice. It’s puppetry, pulled off exquisitely in Josh Sticklin’s staging of the saucy Broadway hit, led here by Drew Sharpe portraying rural Texas teen Jason, and also Jason’s emotional support puppet Tyrone.
Through able ventriloquism, Sharpe distinctly brings life to both characters — who banter and argue with each other — while retaining the mystery of whether we’re witnessing madness. His dual performances, one of which is sometimes shockingly funny, embroil us in the serious story of what might really be going on with Jason.
Shadia Hafiz resoundingly hits every high-key note of [his] excitable mom and widow, who’s also barely coping, and has so many whackadoo developments to deal with that a devil-possessed puppet in the family might be the least of her problems. … Hafiz makes Margery’s monumental emotional breakdown in the Pastor’s office into one of the play’s non-puppet-related highlights, along with the woman’s wildly inappropriate, rough-sex seduction of the other teen boy in puppet practice, Timmy (Jordan Brown).
To the delight of the audience, just about everybody in this church does wrong all the time. And, while tackling taboos with teens can be touchy, doing it with puppets is reliably silly in a way that allows the play to incisively explore the darker side of what goes on in some church basements — not just puppet sex. Although, there is puppet sex, be warned.
The opening monologue cleverly sets up the puppet from the start as an entity unto itself, attached to Jason, yet somehow free to speak its own mind. Sharpe’s excellent puppet control constitutes just one aspect of the production’s controlled approach to presenting these chaotic lives.
Revolving on a turntable stage between scenes and locations, the play keeps pace with these messy Texans, always landing back at home in set designer Matthew J. Keenan’s wholesome church basement. Amid the beanbag chairs, and feel-good slogans like “Be a light for all to see” posted around the room, the shelves are lined with stuffed animals, watching and waiting, an inanimate army ready to set some other broken kid free.
