Saturday Church Off-Broadway Reviews

The treacle, in any case, obscures noble intentions. The Trump administration has, especially in the last week, been motive-hunting for any reason to vilify queer and trans people, and so it’s impressive to see a nonprofit risk whatever paltry amount of federal funding it might still receive. Saturday Church, however, may be so intent on keeping things positive and palatable — to the imagined center-left white cis ticket buyer, one imagines — that it never shifts into other gears.

The musical—directed by Whitney White, and adapted from Damon Cardasis’ 2017 movie—switches between the heart-tugging register of Ulysses’ sense of isolation, and the snap and pop of its excellent soundtrack (at least two songs should be released as singles, right now). The show’s choreography by Darrell Grand Moultrie fills the stage with consistently gorgeous fire and flair. Qween Jean’s costumes—riots of color, sparkle, dramatic silhouettes, and flattering detail—are lead characters in themselves.

From the musical’s opening moments, Tony winner J. Harrison Ghee, in the dual role of Black Jesus and Pastor Lewis, capitalizes on Sia’s catchy score. But the familiar dance beats and melodic riffs aren’t quite enough to make Saturday Church stand out among identity-focused new works.

Saturday Church’s heart is in the right place, but its conventionality overpowers the serene joy that comes with just being around your people.

There’s still work to be done, especially in terms of tightening and focusing, on the show which clearly has aspirations beyond off-Broadway. And if Cardasis and Ijames can reduce the material of some of its feel-good cliches, Saturday Church just might get there.

The new musical “Saturday Church,” playing at New York Theater Workshop, defends this idea. Though somewhat predictable in narrative, the show offers a bounty of infectious music and electric performances. It reminds audiences that theater is an act of liturgy.

As Ulysses works through the tensions and pressures towards the perhaps-inevitable conciliatory hugs and celebratory voguing, the scenes and songs that depict Ulysses’ developing relationship with Raymond feel the most credible and the most endearing. That may be because they seem to come closest to what those kids who walk through the church’s red door each week may actually be like, or at least what they most realistically hope for.