Praising in the name of donations: The cast of A Wolf in Snakeskin Shoes. Photo credit Mark Douet
Theatre: Tricycle Theatre
Play: A Wolf in Snakeskin Shoes
Playwright: Marcus Gardley
Director: Indhu Rubasingham
Review by Joy Francis
French playwright Molière’s 17th century morality tale Tartuffe (The Imposter) has been modernised, refurbished and relocated to Tennessee, USA, in Marcus Gardley’s energetic, farcical and wonderfully provocative A Wolf in Snakeskin Shoes.
With an ornate gold cross dangling precariously above the stage, a gospel choir in lusciously-coloured robes and sunglasses shimmy into view. They urge us to testify, led by the soulful dulcet tones of the wonderful Sharon D Clarke.
The way is paved for the arrival of Apostle Tardimus Tito Jermaine Toof (an excellent Lucian Msamati), an ambitious, shiny-suited preacher (and part time masseur) who wears snakeskin shoes. He fronts his gospel church with swagger and oodles of slick charm to get his congregation to cough up $50 for a healing.
A renowned adulterer, Toof’s long suffering wife, the god-fearing First Lady Loretta Toof (Clarke), is feeling the strain of her husband’s wandering eye and her church being at risk of foreclosure.
Toof’s healing powers are unleashed on a none-too-bright blonde whose broken bones, wrapped within an inch of their life in casts, are miraculously healed by his god given hands. Her gratitude leads Toof to place his hands on her body again, but in a less than holy manner. On the warpath, Loretta smells “the blonde” in his office and berates his fall from grace, yet again.
To win her forgiveness, Toof promises to find the money to save the church in seven days. After praying for a miracle, the answer arrives in the form of wealthy black matriarch Mother Organdy (a delightfully over the top Angela Wynter).
Brandishing her walking stick, she hires his miracle hands to cure her cancer-ridden son Organdy (Wil Johnson). Her request doesn’t end there. She also wants rid of his trashy fiancé Peaches (Adjoa Andoh). Toof offers to move into Organdy’s grand house to heal him.
Healing in the name of ambition: Lucian Msamati (Toof) and Wil Johnson (Organdy). Photo credit Mark Douet
At first Toof’s ‘skills’ look set to fail as the belligerent bully Organdy is ready to die. But Toof’s relentless ambition and ability to sanctify convinces Organdy that he is cancer free.
Feeling enlivened, but looking like the walking dead, Organdy sets about making his life right with god and changes his will. He wants his gay son Gumper (Karl Queensborough) whose only dream is to be an air stewardess, to run his fried chicken empire.
Things become complicated when his estranged daughter Brittany (Ayesha Antoine) comes back from her three year sojourn to West Africa with a new name – Africa – and a dodgy accent and wants her share of her dad’s legacy.
Organdy’s retired stripper fiancé Peaches is deeply suspicious of Toof, especially after he hits on her and decries him as a fraud. Gumper is cured by Toof of being gay. As for the outspoken Mexican maid Dorita (the hilarious Michelle Bonnard), she is hopping mad as she just wants a raise and appreciation for her hard work.
Despite being given the money he needs to save the church after a few days, Toof hangs on for more. Pitting the family against each other with ease, mayhem ensues as he inches his way towards releasing Organdy of his worldly possessions.
After the success of his critically acclaimed play The House That Will Not Stand at the Tricycle in 2014, Gardley takes on the challenge of farce. He stays true to Moliere’s rhyming verse with verve, injected with outrageously rich and salacious satire and laced with caustic and memorable humour, especially from Loretta:
“I made a vow, a promise to God that I would stand by you till death did you part and I intend to do just that.”
Gardley is at home writing about African Americans in The South, past and present. He understands the part religion plays in suppressing women and elevating men under the cult of personality.
Director Indhu Rubasingham’s winning way with actors is once again evident as the cast is on fire. Rubasingham has gives them and the script, creative space to breath amid the frenetic pace.
There are moments of high camp, including a visual restaging of The Last Supper and one of the longest and most side splitting graces you will ever hear. The physical farcical moments don’t always hit the mark with some feeling clunky and signposted. The humour embedded in the dialogue and given extra life by the actors, is enough to tickle the tummy.
The seasoned cast shine. Msamati as Lucian chews the words elegantly. Andoh’s rough round the edges but proud sex pot Peaches is gloriously shameless. Johnson’s aggressive intensity as Organdy is just about reined in while Antoine and Queensborough are full of charm and make light work of the fast-paced high jinks.
Wynter’s solitary appearance as Mother Organdy is a scene stealer. But the star turn in this heady constellation is Sharon D Clarke. She is the emotional centre, moving from anger, frustration and sweet love to vulnerability and self acceptance with ease.
If you want a high energy church experience like no other, go see A Wolf in Snakeskin Shoes. But don’t forget to have your sins ready for a public airing, and have a few £50 notes handy, in case you want to be healed.
A Wolf in Snakeskin Shoes will be at Tricycle Theatre until 14 November 2015.