At the outset of The Adventures of the Black Girl in Her Search for God, Guy Bannerman’s crusty G B Shaw, whose short story is the springboard for Lisa Condrington’s adapted play before us, is determined to have a Preface. He is threatened by Black Girl, however, that unless he behave he will soon have his name removed from his festival just as the powers in charge did with the festival of that other author not too far away in Stratford. Of course, we in the audience are wearing party hats given to many seated here by this same Mr. Shaw and, yes, a good time is being had by all. Well, maybe not by Black Girl who, after all, is off to find God, which in many quarters is an entirely speculative venture, though not all.
I doubt that this production will later transfer to, say, the “Amen!” circuit of the deep south. After all, it implicitly spoofs the deniers of Darwin and the oratorical zeal of Bible-toting fundy preachers that passes there for religion. And isn’t all the reference to religion done with one part Shavian twinkle and three parts mockery of the rigidly fanatical who, when their beliefs are taken to logical conclusion, become absurd. Indeed, Ravi Jain directs at times with a “just this side of the Keystone Cops” knack for frenzy that deftly paces absurdities for inevitable laughs. Indeed Jain’s cast chomp vigorously with individual comic smarts at their specific parts. Indeed we don’t stop laughing.
The tale goes like this: Black Girl –not the one from Leadbelly’s song- has been instructed by Tara Rosling’s White Missionary and has demolished her teacher with infinite questions that the unthinking never, well, think to ask. Black Girl is White Missionary’s only convert because of her incessant and time-consuming “incessant inquiries” and her “Why? Why? Why? Why?” give the latter no extra time. Finally, when as something of a last resort Black Girl asks “Where can I find God” set designer designer Camellia Koo has provided a stage-spanning Bible on which Black Girl stands and can read, “Seek and ye shall find” as she walks upon these enormous pages.
Inevitably she finds there are “lots of old ass men pretending to be gods in this forest.” She also finds Guy Bannerman as Lord of Hosts, he with a resounding echo, no less, and of course frustrates him too with inevitable questions about why evil exists. We then have Lord of Hosts (Bannerman) and The Almighty (a joyfully into it Graeme Somerville) having it out, And we then have Micah the Morasthite, a very no holds barred Ben Sanders, doing verge of hysteria stuff as he joins in before Solomon arrives. The new arrival observes, “We are all headed to the gates of nothingness” and later notes “that’s one of my 3,000 proverbs. It’s all done in the spirit of tongue in cheek in vigorous momentum.
Black Girl realizes, “Maybe I have to be more like God so I can find him” which sounds profound, but we also hears things like “It’s just a metaphor” –take that, you literalists- and the crucifixion referred to as “that ridiculous position” and God as “an unnecessary hypothesis.” Graeme Somerville does a turn as a heavily-accented twit and Tara Rosling fusses as the busy-busy Mathematician and we hear the Bible is hopelessly pre-evolutionary. We are self-consciously told that this is a lunch time slot, in which the production occurs, and thus only a “quick look” at issue that have lived in human thinking for millennia.
Nevertheless, the show has time to turn quite sexy with Kiera Sangster’s Black Mamba Snake and Andre Sills’ Black Bearer. There’s a concise condemnation of symbolism in the defiant call to belief in “It’s a rod, not a stick.” Natasha Mumba is pleasantly riveting throughout –inquisitive, defiant, and take-no-shit unstoppable- and we enjoy the journey with her in a setting that is “The Darkest Africa and The Bible” All the actors use the set, dig into it, with gusto, and Ravi Jain helps his actors to go compellingly over the top to the pleasure of all.
I once heard a fundamentalist questioned thus: “Do you really believe this shit?” and here, at least during this thoroughly entertaining lunchtime fare, we can briefly laugh at the fact that too many, Republicans and Conservatives especially, maintain they still do. Now what would GBS say in his Preface about them?