The Amen Corner review, Olivier Theatre

Brothers and Sisters, we are gathered here to praise the Lord, Amen. We stay pure by eschewing whiskey and cigarettes and fornication outside marriage, Amen. So if the only job you can get is driving a liquor truck, say no, Amen. Ditto serving cocktails at white folk's house dos, Amen. You get the drift? If gospel and  God are not your cup of tea, you'll be one of the punters who disappeared after the first 90 minutes of James Baldwin's, The Amen Corner. Wall-to-wall Amens, and background music even in the quiet bits, can start to feel too much. That said, it seemed a tad unChristian to run given the quality of the comic turns as we entered the world of bible bashing black ladies in 1950s Harlem.

Soul Sister

There are, of course, a number of men in this classic piece, but even when they're at the heart of the story - which they are - they're incidental. This is a play - or in this case, a half musical - about women's pain. The Pastor, Sister Margaret, has not practised the life she preaches. As small, but important and contradictory, revelations emerge of her failed marriage to a jazz musician, the congregation turns against her. Margaret links the downfall of women to their proximity to men. The closer a man, the more likely the woman to fail. Worse: if a woman has a man and a child, she is bound to fail. Margaret frames God as a man, and he is in her heart: is there any hope?


Rufus Norris's production is high on music and humour. In the first half it is literally top heavy with both: the Church in which the congregation knocks out tune after tune is on top of, and dominates, the basement in which Margaret lives with her sister, Odessa, and son, David. The prioritisation of mood over meaning creates better comedy but limits character development till we reach a moment that has been inevitable from the outset - Margaret's realisation that God's children have a right to make different choices, and to make mistakes, and still be brought into the fold.

In conclusion: Every utterance by Cecilia Noble as Sister Moore brings down the house. Jacqueline Boatswain is a gloriously poker-faced Sister Boxer and Sharon D Clarke as Odessa is subtle and solid and sings sweetly. Marianne Jean-Baptiste's Sister Margaret is limited to caricature at points, but opens beautifully in the final scenes.

References

National Theatre, tickets

Olivier Theatre, South Bank, London SE1 9PX.   Run ends 14 August.