It’s impossible to make everyone happy. Indeed, when it comes to meeting the appetites of musical theatre fans in Sydney, it’s a tall order at the best of times. This year, Sydney’s major stages have been pumping out the busiest theatre calendar we’ve seen since pre-pandemic times. However, aside from some notable exceptions, many of the productions claiming the lion’s share of the flashy budgets and the big stars are nothing we haven’t seen before. Musicals like Chicago, Grease, and Rocky Horror are fun and all – but they’ve been done more times than we care to remember, and discerning theatre lovers have a nose for when something is mainly getting a re-mount for cynical commercial gain (allegedly), rather than artistic merit.
Enter, an unlikely saving grace – Sister Act: A Divine Musical Comedy. Sure, the story is a familiar one, inspired by the hit early ’90s comedy movie of the same name starring Whoopi Goldberg (who was also involved in creating the original production). However, this is the first time that this screen-to-stage production has appeared on an Aussie stage. This fun and vibrant show gives you all the razzle dazzle you could want from a night at the theatre – and it blankets the Capitol Theatre in a dazzling cascade of disco ball beams, to boot.
If you’re looking for a feel-good theatrical outing with plenty of sparkles, then let this show take you to church.
Leaning into a Motown-inspired brand of ’70s disco, soul, and funk rhythms, this show harnesses original songs and distinctive takes on familiar characters to tell its story – one of a wayward nightclub singer who is forced to don the habit and move in with a sisterhood of nuns after witnessing her dodgy (married) mobster boyfriend commit a murder; and wouldn’t you know it, she turns out to be the miracle the convent’s pitchy choir is looking for. Borrowing just enough from the movie without relying on it too heavily, this show keeps things surprisingly wholesome without over-sanitizing the (knowingly ridiculous) story.
Stepping into the gogo boots of quick-witted disco diva Deloris, Casey Donovan is a vibrant leading woman. Our Casey is always a highlight, she has the kind of dynamite stage presence and powerful vocals that can uplift even the more average of musicals – and fans will be delighted to see her taking centre stage in what’s being touted as the biggest role of her career. (And the crown certainly fits – she was just recognised in the inaugural Time Out Sydney Arts & Culture Awards, taking out the People’s Choice Award for Best Performance in a Musical for & Juliet.)
Donovan is in good company with this mixed ensemble. As Mother Superior, Genevieve Lemon imbues the staunch disciplinarian character with humanity and warmth. In one memorable scene, her tough facade melts away to reveal a brief but poignant crisis of faith. A legend of the stage and screen, Lemon’s knack for sharpening and softening the edges of difficult characters is iconic of her arthouse film credits, namely her collaborations with director Jane Campion (but for me, one of her best roles will always be as one half of “The Tradie Ladies” in indie musical Dubbo Championship Wrestling). Speaking of legends, Rhonda Burchmore proves that she’s got much more going on than her fiery locks and her famous pins when she gets into the habit as Sister Mary Lazarus – she embodies the world-weary nun with a powerful bass and expert comic timing. A formidable entertainer, anyone who has kept tabs on this international Aussie showgirl’s four-decade-plus career will get a kick out of seeing her in this role (and in what she has referred to as the most comfortable costume she has ever worn on stage – there’s not a stiletto in sight!).
The whole gaggle of nuns is a mixed bag of fun characters, and while you’ll recognise some from the film, this production doesn’t rely too heavily on staging a carbon-copy of the movie. In their professional musical theatre debut, Sophie Montague is a highlight as the initially-timid young Sister Mary Robert. Another pleasantly surprising stand-out is Raphael Wong as Lieutenant Eddie Souther, the policeman tasked with keeping the unruly Deloris safe from harm (while he also harbours a not-so-secret schoolyard crush). A versatile classical-crossover artist, Wong has many more credits for opera to his name than for musicals, but the showmanship he demonstrates in ‘I Could Be That Guy’ proves that we’ve been robbed of the chance to see him take ownership of the musical stage more before now. Deloris’ murderous gangster ex-boyfriend Curtis Jackson (James Bryer) and his trio of cronies are also enjoyable to watch – but the other gangsters have a tough gig keeping up with the hilarious James Bell as TJ, Curtis’ goofy nephew.
While many stage-to-screen adaptations tend to falter when attempting to measure up to the grandeur of their cinematic counterparts, Sister Act is free from those pressures (looking at you, Disney). The costumes and staging amplify the show’s camp sensibilities, with the nods to classical gothic architecture, stained-glass windows and modest religious robes gradually picking up more sequins and bright colours in the lead up to the saturating fabulousness of the final act.
The pacing is sound, and the narrative doesn’t reach any of the strange stand-stills or theatrical misfires that have marred other musical adaptations (the uneven tone of 9 to 5 the Musical comes to mind). Deloris only requires one musical number to transform the squawking nuns into top-shelf singers – in the same vein as a fellow non-conformist nun, aka Maria from The Sound of Music – and that’s just fine, because nobody goes to a musical for bad singing.
If I was to sum up this show in one word, it would actually be “endearing”. Sister Act isn’t the most revolutionary musical you’ve ever seen (it’s not trying to be Hamilton). But it doesn't bite off more than it can handle, it doesn't make any false promises of feminist reclamation or in-depth socio-political commentary – and at the same time, it doesn’t seem to make any uncomfortably ignorant blunders either. The gangsters are total caricatures, and the nuns are treated like complex characters in their own right. (I hope that anyone who carries the scars of a Catholic education actually finds themself having fun at this silly, light-hearted show.) Meanwhile, the closest thing you get to commentary about religion or the church comes when Deloris and the Mother Superior finally make their amends (their conversation amounts to agreeing to disagree about whether a certain goodness is “God” or simply “being human”).
If you’re looking for a feel-good theatrical outing with plenty of sparkles that’ll please musical novices and sceptical obsessives alike, then let this show take you to church. You’ll have a fabulous time, baby.
The Aussie premiere of Sister Act is now playing at Sydney’s Capitol Theatre before it shimmies over to Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth. Book your tickets at sisteractthemusical.com.au.
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