God Works in Mysterious Ways

A provocative, inescapable catechism class; a refined emotional outpouring; a woman stages her escape from 
 

By Christopher Arnott
 

Late Nite Catechism 
 

By Maripat Donovan and Vicki Quade. Through Aug. 26 at Long Wharf Stage II,

I’ve been popping wintergreen Breathsavers for most of my theater-going life.  I can easily, and unobtrusively, suck down a whole roll during a two-act play, two rolls sometimes for a three-act musical.  I estimate I’ve digested 100,000 of these sugar free treats during my 20 years as a theatre critic.  And in all that time, not once has anyone chastised me, or even bothered to notice, my Breathsaver habit.

Until Late Nite Catechism.
 

As you might have heard – since the show’s been around nearly a decade and has toured through Connecticut several times – Late Nite Catechism takes place at a Catholic refresher course for parents, godparents, and whoever else the audience can be pushed into portraying.  In this classroom (adorned with a blackboard, a slew of religious icons and a picture of JFK, “the finest Catholic president we ever had”), even the most inconspicuous refreshments are forbidden.

“Sir?  SIR?  Do you have something in your mouth?  Are you chewing?  What is it?” 
 

After a few more one-sided exchanges like that, with me rolling my eyes guiltily, a glaring disciplinarian nun came charging up the aisle to my seat, a tissue in her outstretched hand, to confiscate my well-sucked candy.

I was hardly the worst offender that evening.  Many one-person comedy shows interact with the audience once or twice, mocking latecomers or bringing a chump up on stage.  Late Nite Catechism has many such exchanges.  A woman in a strapless top may be declared shockingly underdressed and given a drab sweater to drape over her exposed shoulders.  A man whispering to his wife can be ordered to sit onstage, facing the wall, for five minutes.

On opening night of the Long Wharf rendition, at the theatre’s Stage II through Aug. 26, dozens of real-life nuns were in attendance, laughing the loudest and contributing some of the funniest answers to their comic counterpart’s pointed, impatient questions.  This probing “Sister” is ably inhabited by Denise Fennell with a hardcore Boston accent and a snappish exasperation that erupts out of her diminutive, tightly wound body.  She can bring the crowd to whoops and shrieks in a matter of seconds, yet also – with a wry smile that silently yet clearly telegraphs “There, there, all in fun” – she can quickly soften her sharper jabs before things get out of hand.  The spirit surely moves her.

As any teacher knows, concentrating on a lesson while being prepared for any unexpected confrontation that may arise is a special skill.  Doing so in a performance context while actively provoking those showdowns requires God-given gifts.  If you thought Mark Nelson was impressive as the Librarian, delivering an alleged lecture on his experiences with the wandering Jew in Underneath the Lintel at Long Wharf Stage II last month, Late Nite Catechism adds a whole new dimension to that classroom verisimilitude.  The wonder of the play is that, unlike the frothy Nunsense series, it actually tries to debate and explain some of the unique properties of Catholic worship.  The discussions aren’t all positive, like the memories of smacking kids across the knuckles with rulers (though, despite a few cultural updates like a March of the Penguins reference, the recent sexual abuse scandals are not touched upon).  Still, there’s unexpected depth and class to these guffaw-powered proceedings, and the pleasure of watching a skilled performer work a crowd with God on her side.

Just be warned:  Thou shalt not chew.

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