Errant Christ loses its religion

The problem with most religious dramas is that most are steeped in extravagance: lavish costumes, dense, awkward lines, stagnant melodrama. Junior director Matthew Van Winkle's latest play, Errant Christ, has none of these. By limiting his cast to three, Van Winkle allows sophomore Adam Marvel, sophomore Samantha Tunis and first-year Seth Stewart greater freedom to wrestle with the complex dilemmas the play raises: the conditionality of love, the different manifestations of the idea of God, the imbued power of a name. In the role of the Crucifier, Marvel plays a doleful simpleton who believes in the underlying order of all things. When someone misbehaves or violates the way of the world, discipline is in order. The Crucifier says, "You understand, none of this was my choice. But some things - I'm sure I don't have to tell you this - can't go unpunished."

This character also represents the omniscient narrator with his insightful remarks about the underlying themes: "This man promised such names for all the trembling, invisible souls from whose ranks he had risen...It is no small promise; for to have such a name is to cheat death." With his omnipotent, telling lines the Crucifier sets the audience up for what takes on the central theme of Errant Christ: the inherent power attached to a name.

Marvel speaks his character's lines with restrained emotion, displaying someone who feels caught between a need to love Jesus and confusion about God's abandonment. In one passionate scene, the Crucifier looks into the eyes of the dead body of Jesus and tells him about his young daughter. Marvel is reminiscent of one who is breathing life into the prostrate deity, just by talking to him. By choosing to portray God's crucifier as a simple, faithful follower who sees beauty in sharing, Van Winkle sets up the drama for the clash of values between the other characters.

This clash, concerning the infallibility of God, is nothing less than a debate as old as religion itself. As opposed to the overwhelming devotion that Jesus feels for the Christ (Stewart), Mary Magdalene (Tunis) feels that he used her, deriding him as "simplistic carpenter." Both Mary and Jesus look off-stage when they speak of the Christ, putting into action the belief of many early Christians. According to Van Winkle, "Some early Christian groups believed that Jesus was inhabited by a spirit who was known as the Christ and left him again at the Crucifixion."

For Jesus, the Christ stands as all that is holy in the world, the highest reflection of divine life on earth. Christ presented Jesus with the greatest gift imaginable: a name. Jesus, however, is not overly na�ve about the authority that comes with "the Christ." When Jesus speaks to the Christ, his personal savior, and asks him "Did you think I was too much enamored with you to ever abuse it?... Did you learn your lesson with me? Did I teach you something in the end?" the audience understands that even the most holy are capable of baneful schemes. What is most telling about this is that Jesus, who is revered and held up to be God on earth, is revealed to be just as human as anyone else. Van Winkle presents Jesus as one who Christ offered the greatest gift to "when no one had ever been more undeserving." This careful dichotomy encourages the audience to think deeply about the amount of power we afford to religious figures, and whether this reverence is justified.

With her discourse about how society sees older women as unappealing and marred with old age, Tunis presents contemporary feminist issues in the context of Christianity. Her anger transcends this age-old problem, however. Mary is quite adamant that she does not want to carry the baby that is inside her. In one impassioned line, she rails against what Christ has done to her, howling, "Someone... I'm frightened and I've never been frightened before and I'm so frightened and please get it out of me..." Tunis' shrill voice resonates loudly, bouncing across the walls, carrying with it the anguish of someone wrongly abused. For Mary, Christ could do no right. Mary speaks the line, "Oh, carpenter, you should not have done what you did" with such loaded horror that no reparations can be made.

While Errant Christ began with the Crufier expressing his amazement of Jesus, by the conclusion of the play, his wonderment is all but forgotten. Instead it is replaced by the Crucifier's disbelieving confusion, as he does not know who Christ was talking to when he said, "Why have you foresaken me?" Thus, the play ends on a note that mirrors the futile nature of religion.

Errant Christ will be performed tonight at 7 p.m. at the Cat. Free.

The essence of divinity: Sophomores Samantha Tunis and Adam Marvel, and first-year Seth Stewart, question the infallibility of Jesus in Errant Christ, which opens tonight. (photo by Areca Treon)