Losing my religion: Marianne Jean-Baptiste (Margaret Alexander) and Eric Kofi Abrefa (David). Picture by Richard H Smith.
Play: The Amen Corner
Theatre: The National Theatre (Olivier Theatre)
Playwright: James Baldwin
Review by Joy Francis
Based on James Baldwin’s first play, written in 1955, The Amen Corner is a microcosm of black life in a vibrant storefront church in Harlem led by a strict and occasionally punitive female preacher Margaret Alexander, played by the impressive Marianne Jean-Baptiste.
Full of charismatic and evangelical fervour, reminiscent of a female James Brown with handkerchief held aloft, Margaret’s opening sermon demands that her congregation “set their house in order”. No drinking. No smoking. The way of holiness, she warns, is hard. Controlling and maternal, she calls her largely poor and hardworking congregation her “children”.
Margaret has broken down many taboos by being a female preacher while bringing up her son David (Eric Kofi Abrefa) singlehanded after being abandoned by her jazz trombone-playing husband Luke (the prolific Lucian Msamati). Her strong will and strict rules have helped the church to grow, but she has also aroused suspicion and courted envy among some of the elders, who believe she muscled her way into the role at her male predecessor’s expense. “She acts like she is above all human trouble, chewing the fat with the Lord,” claims Sister Boxer (a spiky Jacqueline Boatswain).
Living below the church with her feisty and protective sister Odessa, played by the formidable Sharon D Clarke, Margaret is convinced she is communing directly with the Lord. Meanwhile her 18 year old son, who plays the piano in the church, wants to find his own way and voice.
A musical talent himself, David is struggling to deal with his growing lack of faith and feeling of emptiness amid his mother’s determination for him to wed his future to the church. Enrolled in music school, the allure of the world at large, along with his secret passion for jazz music, is causing a rift between them.
Matters rapidly deteriorate when his sick and unrepentant father returns to the fold, revealing another less flattering side to the story of Margaret’s past, setting off a chain of events which forces everyone onto a painful path to redemption.
As a son of a preacher, Baldwin is on familiar territory. The paying of tithes under duress. The awkward public call for “backsliders” to come forward to be healed. The incessant backstabbing, gossip, judgements and internal power struggles as church elders jostle for pole position in the faith rankings.
Funny and heartrending in equal measure, director Rufus Norris infuses the captivating production with a strong sense of time and place. Interspersed with some of the most majestic gospel compositions, you feel as if you are peeking through the church window in the 1950s. Ian MacNeil’s split level set design allows the production to flow from scene to scene with ease.
As for the cast, they are superlative, buoyed by the emotionally resonant London Community Gospel Choir. Msamati shows, once again, why he is one of the most accomplished and adaptable actors in theatre today, making Luke both cynical and insightful. Jean-Baptiste, giving her first British performance in 10 years and who most of the audience came to see, didn’t disappoint. In total control, she ran through the gamut of emotions without missing a beat.
A special mention goes to the watchable and hilariously funny Cecilia Noble as Sister Moore who knows the scriptures inside out, is proud “no man has ever touched me, praise the Lord,” yet harbours an unwavering ambition to lead the church.
James Baldwin’s ability to reveal the hypocrisy, dogma, delusion and value of religion is captured in this production. The singing alone is worth the price of the ticket, which is why I am booking a return visit.
The Amen Corner is at the National Theatre until 14 August 2013.