Sister Act

Deloris Van Cartier is an aspiring singer, auditioning to sing at a night club owned by Curtis, her married boyfriend, but instead witnesses her gangster lover shooting dead one of his men. Forced to hide from his henchmen, Van Cartier is placed in a convent that’s about to be sold to become an antiques store.

Told to lie low until she can testify at a court case, Van Cartier’s larger than life personality can’t help but do the opposite. She joins the tuneless convent choir and without much of a fight from its previous leader Sister Mary Lazarus, takes over to inject a different level of energy into the chants and hymns.

Casey Donovan is Van Cartier and her voice is incredible: her first notes in the convent moved like a shockwave across the stalls, making sure we were paying full attention. Van Cartier’s anthem ‘Take Me to Heaven’ is a highlight, particularly in the ensemble version, and her solo version of ‘Sister Act’ is breathtaking. Donovan is also a great comic actor: she stole the show in the touring production of 9 to 5 with both her voice and comedy and she’s even better here, bringing her own brand of sass that’s much more than copying Whoopi’s from the movie.

Genevieve Lemon as Mother Superior is excellent, balancing the disdain for someone of Van Cartier’s character with the patience of a nun. Lemon’s hilarious song ‘I Haven’t Got a Prayer’ is brilliantly delivered and she is more than equal to Van Cartier’s attitude, a superb counterpoint to Donovan on the stage and there’s a great chemistry between them.

I never thought I’d experience Rhonda Burchmore rapping (and in Latin, too), and as Sister Mary Lazarus she is having a wonderful time singing and dancing around the stage with enormous energy – Burchmore is a delight throughout. Raphael Wong is ‘Steady’ Eddie, the cop with a heart and a crush on Deloris, and he brings a gentler humanity that sits well between the loud excesses of Deloris and the quiet humility of the nuns. His song ‘I Could Be That Guy’ is superbly sung and performed – the costume and set changes are done so well and largely invisibly by the cast and crew.

Daniel Griffin’s musical direction leads a sensational band that drives this show from the orchestra pit, creating a sound that feels like a lot more than a band of eight musicians playing across the musical styles.

Set design by Morgan Large is excellent, circles within circles literally rounding off the proscenium arch and helping to bring intimacy to the quieter scenes. Large also designed the costumes, which scream fabulous 1970s – the sequin count increases exponentially through the show, but it always works for the performers and the scenes.

It takes a little time for the show to warm up and getting to the convent is a little clunky with the plot and ordinary with the songs, but once there, the pace of its storytelling and energy of its performers steps up a few levels. The ensemble of nuns is cleverly cast, distinctive in physical appearance and personality, ensuring we recognise every one of them despite their habits trying to make them homogenous. Stand outs are Sophie Montague as the youngest member of the convent, Sister Mary Robert; and Bianca Bruce as the operatic Sister Mary Patrick. Their ensemble numbers shine – ‘Sunday Morning Fever’ is a high energy way to open the second act but the much quieter ‘Bless Our Show’ is a wonderful medley of musical talent. For the male ensemble, they work well as countless minor characters throughout, without stealing the scene from the women. The only threats to that are Damien Bermingham as a cool Monsignor O’Hara and James Bell ‘s TJ. The latter channels Jim Carrey as the gang leader’s dumb nephew: he has some great lines delivered with exaggerated comic moves.

The acting is over the top for everyone – and beyond the core players, are too cartoonish to be taken seriously: one particular slapstick scene is straight out of Looney Tunes. But that’s not the point here. Sister Act is about the music: from choral to gospel, soul to disco. It’s also about the visual overload that is the Festival Theatre stage full of tightly choreographed dancers, slick set placement and bold, beautiful lights. It could be considered that five mirrorballs are too much, but they’re well used to great effect.

Opening such a show immediately after Adelaide’s festival saturations is a bold move – our heads still thinking through provocative drama or dumbed down by stand-up – yet it doesn’t try to be either, placing itself firmly in the middle of the road, as entertainment with a light message of the pitfalls of misjudging others and finding your voice. It might not challenge your brain, but Sister Act will swell your heart.

Review by Mark Wickett

Photographer: Daniel Boud