Tammy Faye, Almeida Theatre review — Elton John’s delirious glitz-bomb of a musical

The Lord moves in mysterious ways — and so it comes to pass that we have this divinely delirious glitz-bomb of a musical from James Graham and Elton John. Together with the lyricist Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters, playwright and songwriter measure up to the phenomenal rise and fall of televangelist Tammy Faye Bakker. “If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t believe it,” she declares early in the action — a comment that by the end feels like understatement.

But while Rupert Goold’s production barrels along with all the ungovernable energy of a roller-disco high on hairspray, at its heart is a serious point about an ungodly mix of populism, politics and preaching that remains with us today.

In the beginning are Tammy Faye (Katie Brayben) and Jim Bakker (Andrew Rannells), earnest small-town evangelists spreading the word through the uncertain medium of puppet theatre. Enter satellite TV and the electric church. By some miracle, they get themselves a religious channel, with Tammy Faye acting as sidekick to her husband. But it’s she who grasps the essence of the medium, blending Christian ministry with homely tips. Her instinctive understanding that, in a lonely world, television thrives on the illusion of intimacy, on reaching out through the screen, shoots the ratings heavenwards and fills the coffers with cash.

But in any Eden there are snakes in the grass and forbidden fruit. The couple’s “prosperity gospel”, extravagant lifestyle and fraudulently amassed fortune can’t survive contact with cold reality — or the FBI. (Plus there is the scandal of Bakker’s sexual misconduct.) Meanwhile, Tammy Faye’s belief that Christian love extends to all — she did a famously sympathetic interview with a gay pastor who had Aids — both enrages the Christian right and gives them ammunition.

Graham, our leading political playwright, spies in this gaudy saga the roots of contemporary culture wars, with conservatives and fundamentalists raging over “woke” values and infiltrating the body politic to chilling effect. This is the Graham of Ink and Best of Enemies, offering shrewd analysis of the interplay between politics and popular culture. But it’s also the Graham of television series Sherwood, favouring forgiveness over revenge. Key to the drama is Tammy Faye’s observation that in the Bible love is mentioned 489 times, hate 89 times.

All this comes packaged in a larger-than-life narrative style, which fills this one-time church with a blend of zinging dialogue, religious frenzy and Lynne Page’s wildly camp dance routines. John and Spears bowl events forwards with a combination of daft pastiche rock, glam-rock and rousingly genuine ballads. Best of these is “Empty Hands” before the interval, a soul-baring torch song which Brayben delivers with rafter-raising passion. And she is superb, bringing both warmth and beady intelligence to Tammy Faye, nicely contrasted by Rannells’ Bakker, uncomfortable in his own skin. Slithering around them is Zubin Varla as a reptilian Jerry Falwell.

It all gets a bit bogged down and bitty in act two and not many songs follow you home. What goes missing in the frenzy is the character depth and tougher scrutiny that would make this truly illuminating. But it is a riot of show, at its heart a timely, defiant message about love and tolerance.

★★★★☆

To December 3, almeida.co.uk