PUT THE NUNS IN CHARGE!

What the critics are saying about Put the Nuns in Charge!

From the Chicago Tribune:

"Put the Nuns in Charge" is a thoroughly entertaining evening and, though it's hardly revelatory about the Big Questions of faith (nor does it mean to be), Lynda Shadrake's performance was sharp, funny and richly humane.

Some knowledge of church doctrine is probably helpful, but because the emphasis is more on do's and don'ts than dogma, familiarity with the Baltimore catechism isn't necessary to get most of the jokes.

The piece, of course, makes reference to the new pope ("They called him `the Rottweiler,' but I think we should call him `our German shepherd'") as well as stars-gone-bad Russell Crowe and Michael Jackson (who is held up as an example of sloth for getting to court late and wearing his pajamas). The show, like its predecessor, is also heavy on audience interaction, though even those scolded by Sister usually come away with a prayer card.

In the wake of the church's wide-ranging sexual-abuse scandals, the nuns, as the title suggests, are probably better equipped to render moral advice these days.

From the Daily Southtown:

Catholics, others can appreciate Sister's class act

By BETTY MOHR
Daily Southtown Theater Critic

You don't have to be Catholic to get a kick out of "Put the Nuns in Charge!" but the experience of this show is that much more hilarious if you attended Catholic school. Written and produced by Vicki Quade, this sequel to "Late Nite Catechism" is a nostalgic hoot that will recall some very funny moments about growing up Catholic.

Review

Playing at the Royal George Theatre, this interactive show is set within an intimate theater space that looks just like a classroom. Here we have Kathleen Puls Andrade as Sister, dressed in a nun's black-and-white habit and walking to and fro holding tight to a long wooden ruler.

She approaches the blackboard and points to a series of words: sloth, lust, pride, anger, envy, greed and gluttony. She explains the consequences of those Seven Deadly Sins with comic examples. Michael Jackson, for instance, represents Sloth because he was always late to his trial and came dressed in his pajamas.

On the evening I sat in on Sister's class, she noticed a man in the audience who she thought was indulging in some kind of hanky panky. "Take your arm away from that woman," she admonished. "Who is she?" she asks sharply. "It's my wife," he answers. "That's ridiculous," Sisters says. "Married couples don't act like that."

It goes on and like that as Sister teaches us life lessons on civility, humility and godliness.

She asks theatergoers — who, as the show continues, begin to look and act very much like children — what you call those who come to church just before the homily and leave after the Eucharist. "Episcopalians" is the Sister's answer.

Sister is not only a tough disciplinarian, but she's very good at improvisation. The stern look on her face deepens as one man in the audience asks her if she had to learn to give "that look" before becoming a nun.

When Sister returns from intermission, she sees that one of her class members has written "penguin" on the board. While she erases that word, someone else pops up and asks her if she has to wear the same clothes every day. Without missing a beat, she responds with: "Of course, that's why they call it a habit."

While Cecilie D. Keenan does a fine job directing, this show is a charm because of Andrade's flawless portrayal. She captures the presence of a nun with such perfection that you soon forget she's an actress and are convinced that she really is a nun.

A funny and nostalgic romp, "Put the Nuns in Charge!" is a wonderful reminder of Catholic life during a simpler, more disciplined time.

From the Pioneer Press:

You’ll get a charge out of sequel to Late Nite Catechism

Once again, we have a wonderful blend of satire and nostalgia as we re-enter a Catholic classroom to face a stern, ruler-wielding nun.

In “Put the Nuns in Charge!”, highly creative playwright Vicki Quade has updated the material. Now, finances have shut down many Catholic schools, and Sister is teaching a class in Adult Human Behavior. References are startlingly topical. Russell Crowe’s hurling a telephone at a bellboy, Sister says, is “not reaching out to touch someone.”

Late Nite Catechism, in an open run, is enjoying its 13th year in Chicago, and has received national and international acclaim. Those who have seen the play are certain to take pleasure in the sequel, while those who haven’t will experience the delicious shock of recognition when they return to the classroom of their youth.

You don’t have to be Catholic to enjoy either play—and the best advice on which one to see would be to take in both, currently running in tandem at the Royal George.

From the Chicago Reader:

Attention, Late Nite Catechism fans: Sister's back with a vengeance. Good material abounds in Sister's Golden Rule seminar, in which she scrutinizes cell phone yakking and modern assholiness (woe betide anyone showing up five minutes late wearing pants with martini glasses embroidered on them, as I learned the hard way).

With more time to ripen, deeper dives into obscure Catholic lore, and perhaps more direct commentary on the state of the church--why should the nuns be put in charge?--Vicki Quade's production could distinguish itself and match the appeal of the original. As is, it's an entertaining excuse to sing "Kumbaya" and get spanked with a ruler.

 

Back in the Habit
School is back in session with this successor to ‘Catechism’

By Terry Loncaric
Kane County Chronicle & Northwest Herald

Like its predecessor "Late Nite Catechism," "Put the Nuns in Charge" is a tongue-in-cheek romp through the world of sins, saints, and strange nun lore.

Sister is back wearing more black than Johnny Cash would ever have mustered, swinging her "18 inches of wood" (nun jargon for a ruler), and landing on her kids (audience members!) like a cross between a drill sergeant and a benevolent, big sister.

In this high-spirited sequel, playwright Vicki Quade has created a slightly less nostalgic but equally endearing in-your-face Catechism lesson that keeps everyone on their toes, trying to see if they can answer Sister's tough questions, and dodge her ominous weapon of destruction -- that gigantic ruler!

A friend of mine had on a blouse that showed some cleavage, and she was asked to come up on stage. Sister covered my blushing companion with a handkerchief, blessed, of course, by a priest. But that wasn't the end of the scolding. Throughout the show, the handkerchief fell, and Sister kept reminding my friend, "Cover those holy
hills!"

One woman and her mother guzzled beer at a show with a nun. What could they have been possibly thinking? Of course, they were razzed relentlessly. But they were a little in the bag, anyway, so I don't think it actually mattered.

Of course, what makes this show so funny is Sister's authoritarian presence, fueled by Kathleen Puls Andrade's sharp comedic aim, and her knack for zapping "easy targets" in the audience with her caustic, improvised humor. This nun is not only quick on her feet; she seems to have eyeballs in back of her head!

The show is not about ridicule, though. Its premise is having fun, and taking liberties with some of the stranger aspects of Catholic ritual that beg over-the-top treatment.

Andrade is sharp, funny, and bossy as a nun who reluctantly steps into modern times, but still feels the need to keep everyone in line with her convoluted moral lessons, her light-hearted pop culture references, and her own brand of edgy, sarcastic humor. Sister Kathleen slaps on those thick-soled combat boots, and instantly becomes Atilla the Nun -- every stern nun who ever tried to bust a kid's chops for stepping out of line.

Andrade plays up the show's campier moments, too, with perfect comedic aplomb.

Sister ruminates over the Seven Deadly Sins, and delights in telling weird stories designed to tug at our moral sense of guilt, even if we were never raised Catholic. Her response to gluttony is pragmatic and wise. "All-you-can-eat, at a buffet," Sister sternly reminds us, "is an option, not a requirement." I also liked Sister's description of Mother Angelica as "The Rush Limbaugh of nuns." Mother A is extreme. So is Rush. Sister hit the bullseye.

"Put the Nuns in Charge" is a delightful streams-of-conscious romp -- a nun's own private talk show, served with more winks and nudges than genuine theological substance. But the premise of the jokes is all-too-real, so it resonates convincingly with audiences.

Sister talks about the Saints, at least the obscure ones! She hands out a Get-Out-of-Purgatory Free Card. She talks us all into singing "Kumbaya," a very strange folk song, that, for some reason, all grade school nuns loved singing. Sister pretends she is an action hero, an excuse, I suppose to show us she can do karate kicks in all of those layers of clothing. Only a nun could manage that!

Clearly, the show is more about silliness than theological lessons. The pieces of this lesson don't exactly fit into a cohesive story, but if you want to have a good time with a nun who will bust you in the chops if you start slacking off in class, then step right into Sister's wacky little universe.

But watch those holy hills!

PUT THE NUNS IN CHARGE!

8:00 p.m. Fridays, and 5:00 p.m. Saturdays

Royal George Theater
1641 N. Halsted, Chicago
(312) 988-9000

Tickets are $30.
Group discounted price is $25 for 10 or more.