All religion is a mania. And the maniacs are going to be coming after Charles Busch (the farce-loving playwright) for The Divine Sister. How do you solve a problem like Maria? Or a problem that you— ‘can’t face’? (Put that one in a British accent while you’re at it) well…take a hearty dose of holy high hilarity down at Vagabond Players to close out their 110th season. Whoever greenlit this one as the season closer has got a bone to pick with the big guy upstairs… or big girl? Big entity? Big Almighty-Being Upstairs. Or downstairs. Wherever such an entity dwells. Maybe they’re in the catacombs. With lightning. Underground. At any rate, this absolutely absurd and ludicrous religious farce, chock-a-block with nunsense and then some is Directed by Steve Goldklang with Jesse Stiteler calling the show as Stage Manager. Sit back, believe in the miracle of comedy and you’ll have a good time.
It’s a well-produced and crafted show. The script is another story…and honestly would have been served better without the intermission but whether that Busch’s call or Goldklang’s is unclear and as it’s the only true fault with the production…aside from the loco-lack-o-good-plot, I’m not going to harp on it. St. Gabriel, or whichever one handles the harps, might come at me if I do.
But you’ve got this heavenly set— Roy Steinman— with build assists from Bruce Kapplin and Jay Demarco— and solid L&S from Brad Ranno (lights) and Stephen Deininger (sound) to back it up. I mean Ranno manages to make effective lightning in the underground catacombs. THE UNDERGROUND CATACOMBS!!! And Deininger gets mad props, though he’s on sound, for that lip-sync-for-your-life sing-a-long when Sister Mary Whatsherface starts in with the guitar. Jumping all around here— much like the logic in Busch’s farcical send-up— Steinman’s set is both simple and stunning. Those swinging convent garden gates are the real arch du triumph and when they’re complimented with some of Ranno’s more ordinary (read: not-lightning-in-the-underground) illuminating tactics, you are able to readily follow the time-hops from present day cloistered life to hot-n-bothered journalists on the steamy beat.
Enter Sister April Forrer and her sly sartorial selection, AKA costume design. You can get but so much from Nuns when it comes to a show’s outfit extravaganza— unless of course it’s Sister Act with all the shimmer scapulars and glittery guimpes— but Forrer puts a little je ne se quais in each holy habit, and really lets her flare shine for the flashback moments when Acacius and Mother Superior led lives…before their vows.
The show moves smoothly, a combination effort between Goldklang and Stiteler and it’s lots of gut-punching laughter, delivered effectively in melodramatic, high-farce fashion. That takes a keen understanding by both director and actors and this bunch has got it. A warning word of caution there is a smidgy of language…particularly strong in one recurring joke…but if you’re here to enjoy a comedy that takes the piss right out of the Episcopal— yeah, yeah, nuns are only Catholic but the lowest-hanging-joke-fruit was right there— then you’re probably less concerned about the cunning linguistics that Busch has wrapped into the script.
There’s something to be said playing the only male-presenting character in a play of sisters. Mark Kozlowski gets to do exactly that as Jeremy and Borther Venerius, with the latter being a slightly recurrent bit-part whose face you never see. Kozlowski is humorous and his real meaty scenes land in those flashbacks to another life, long before Mother Superior took up the veil and it’s pretty wild to watch the pair of them engage like some bad Dick Tracey/Roger Rabbit trope; they have great chemistry and to his credit, Kozlowski shines as brightly as is conceivably possible when sharing the stage in a comedic scene with J Purnell Hargrove (playing Mother Superior.)
Melissa Bannister, who plays the cantankerous Mrs. Levinson, going on a tirade about atheism, is hysterical. And while she spends most of the performance in this role, being crabby-come-complacent, it’s when she plays Timothy that the audience is losing their minds, whooping and hollering in hilarity. Done out in her St. Whichever School baseball uniform, Bannister believably— with a wink and a house-cheating grin— plays this youngster who is absolutely terrible at baseball and it’s a riot. Bannister has sharp comedic instincts and also holds her own in a boxing ring of hilarity, again not an easy task when up against the J Purnell Hargrove.
Walburga (Maeve Koch) is the character who makes the least-most sense? But nobody’s going to much care how she fits or doesn’t fit into this send-up-soap plot because Koch is a delightful scream on stage. That German accent is DIVINE. And she maintains it with consistency. Which makes it even more hysterical when she slips into the briefly-appearing character of Mrs. Macduffie, the Scotch-Irish-Isle servant with a bowlegged, hunchbacked, waddle-walk. That accent slides all over the isles and is perfect for this breed of comedy. Koch has beautifully severe facial expressions reserved for playing Sister Walburga, delivers so much of what she’s saying with lethal intensity (making it that much funnier) and really does a number on Sister Acacius (Holly Pascuillo) when it comes to getting her flirt on.
Pascuillo is clearly mantling up as the nod to Sister Robert Ann a la Nunsense with those converse sneakers, that brassy-attempt-at-Brooklyn attitude and her constant eye-rolling. This makes for the perfect foil going up against Agnes (Morgan Wenerick), the postulant who is mostly the vision-seeing titular character from Agnes of God with a little Sister Amnesia from Nunsense, a little Maria from Sound of Music and a little Sister Mary Robert from Sister Act. (Therein lies one of the script’s problems— too many nuns crammed into one character track! The potential for hilarity could have been exponential with just one more nun covering a few of those homages!) Wenerick has the nonsense of being “lights on; nobody’s home” down pat. Though good gracious, holy heavens, when she hits the flip-point near the end of the production (and again shoutout to April Forrer and those shimmering-bugle-tassels) you get a versatile look at her capabilities. While Wenerick is the human embodiment of ‘ignorance is bliss’ and makes a tremendous fuss about stained underpants…Pascuillo is the total opposite; hardened, deeply rough around the edges but oh-so-oversexed when it comes to certain…stimuli. And holy Moses when she’s doing her thing over on the guard-rail pole— Pascuillo, that is— the audience is dying in laugh-tears from all the antics.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing J Purnell Hargrove on a stage, chances are it’s been in a comedy (to be clear, Hargrove is a versatile performer who thrives in every role in which they find themselves but comedy is certainly one of their strongest suits!) and this comedy of divine errors is no exception. From the moment Hargrove struts out onto the stage as Mother Superior, it’s game on in the ‘high-uproarious-ride’ division and you’d best buckle up because you’re in for gut-busting laughter. Hargrove does a superb job of letting that slightly haughty, occasionally English accent slip all around their tongue throughout the production so that when they hit THAT one joke (aforementioned with the cautionary warning about language) it feels so natural and yet so wholly unexpected that you’re dying with laughter. Hargrove commands the stage— and when they take to that gag about vomiting, which trigger’s Bannister’s character (or vice-versa, can’t recall which one starts that upchucking process) it’s a real geyser of nonsense, which Hargrove physically engages with divinely. Perceptive delivery with comedic timing, knowing exactly how to whip a one-liner into the utmost zinger, and finding that moment of ‘played-for-truth’ tenderness here and there, which creates a holistic balance in the otherwise zany existence of Mother Superio, Hargrove is a superbly divine being and nails this show. To the cross. Of comedy.
It’s important to believe in miracles, even if you have to create them yourself. And Vagabond Players is creating a miracle of comedy out of this script to close out their 110th season; it’s funny, it’s a little naughty, it makes precious little sense, but goodness me if it doesn’t tickle the funny bone religiously; don’t miss it!
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours and 15 minutes with one intermission
The Divine Sister plays through June 21st 2026 at Vagabond Players— located in the heart of Fells Point: 806 S. Broadway in Baltimore, MD. Tickets can be purchased by calling the box office at (410) 563-9135 in advance online.
