Tammy Faye – Almeida Theatre

Andrew Rannells and Katie Brayben in Tammy Faye at the Almeida Theatre, London. Picture: Marc Brenner

Tammy Faye continues at the Almeida Theatre, London until 3 December 2022.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The birth of televangelism, sexual misconduct, millions upon millions of dollars, fraud, and our Lord Jesus Christ. There are two ways to tell the story of Tammy Faye and Jim Bakker: a serious look at the rise and fall of their empire and its effect on American society and politics, or a celebration of how Tammy Faye – the magnetic preacher with striking hair and even more striking make-up – became an LGBTQ+ icon.

From humble beginnings playing small theatres with their Christian puppet show, Tammy Faye and Jim Bakker rocketed to the forefront of the burgeoning 1970s televised Christian ministry phenomenon, thanks in large part to Tammy’s exuberance and charisma. Though the enterprise would eventually crumble under the weight of financial mismanagement and Jim’s sexual assault of employee Jessica Hahn, Faye – who always preached love and acceptance toward those whom other churches exclude – was embraced by the gay community. And now there is an Elton John musical about her life to prove it.

This long-awaited production with a book by acclaimed playwright James Graham has been in the works for quite some time. Last year, it was just pipped to the post by the cinematic biopic The Eyes of Tammy Faye starring Jessica Chastain, which captured a similar vibe. However, this Tammy Faye has music by Elton John and lyrics by Jake Shears of Scissor Sisters. We wouldn’t be on this website if that didn’t sound much more exciting to us.

If the prospect of a high-camp musical version of this story doesn’t appeal to you, then Tammy Faye is unlikely to win you around. There is no pontificating about religion and morality, no great sociological examination of 1970s America. It’s not that the show is unintelligent: Graham’s excellent script certainly touches on the story’s weightier themes, but he opts for a “show, don’t tell” approach. If you want to use this show as a conversation-starter for some serious historical examination then you absolutely can, but this show’s primary mission is to entertain. And lord oh lord does it entertain.

Firstly, the show looks fantastic. Bunny Christie’s set is a cathode ray mash-up of 70s and 80s fashions and Hollywood Squares. Props are wheeled on and off, actors emerge from the floor and walls, and you never know quite what to expect next. Katrina Lindsay’s costume design is evocative of the USA half a century ago, but in the colourful and glamorous form we remember from television rather than the beige reality. To top it off, Lynne Page’s choreography is exciting and expressive. Director Rupert Goold handles all these elements perfectly, turning what could be a messy circus into a cohesive and effective work.

In the title role, Katie Brayben is perfection. Faced with the task of playing one of the most magnetic and charismatic women to ever appear on television, Brayben succeeds with such naturalism and ease that any one of us in the Almeida Theatre would happily donate our monthly paycheque to her ministry. As the story progresses, her character ages so convincingly we could be fooled that they had used multiple actors had we not witnessed the intermediate steps. And wow: the voice. More on that later.

As her husband, Andrew Rannells brings new shades to what is surely familiar territory for him – the irreverent comedy about a repressed religious man hoping to change the world has echoes of his star-making turn in The Book of Mormon. As he elevates every single joke and every single song with his Broadway-honed stagecraft, we are left in no doubt that we are watching a master at work. When things take a turn for the serious, his ability to bring us almost to empathy for this man who does so much wrong is remarkable. Though the plot and running time demands it, it is something of a shame that Jim Bakker has much less of a presence in the Act II. Rannells is a true star.

The 15-strong troupe of supporting actors are all marvellous performers with the perfect technical skills and comic aptitude for this piece. Standouts include Zubin Varla as a villainous Reverend Jerry Falwell; Amy Booth-Steel as friend of the Bakkers, Jan, whose every line reading is a masterclass in comic delivery; Ashley Campbell, who brings real heart to the emotional crux of the show – Tammy’s interview with AIDS victim Steve Pieters; and Colin Burnicle playing Jesus as you have never seen our Lord and Saviour before. This is an irreverent take on religion that centres joy and love over deference and purity.

One of the key draws, though, is the set of brand-new songs from Elton John. Fans of the legendary singer-songwriter will immediately recognise his cadence in the melodies and signature piano flourishes, here given a sheen of US gospel. This is a score that cannot be criticised for being ‘low energy’: even the slower, more introspective numbers have an almighty power. A great example of this and an Act I highlight is ‘Satellite of God’, performed by a captivating Varla. Similarly, Faye’s Act I closer and 11 o’clock numbers, ‘Empty Hands’ and ‘If You Came to See Me Cry’ are not just gut-punching songs that will soon feature in musical theatre cabarets across the country, but an extraordinary showcase of Brayben’s mind-blowing vocal skills.

Shears’ lyrics should not be underestimated either. When some pop artists pivot to musical theatre, we fear there will be half-rhymes, songs that do not progress the plot, and an over-reliance on the ‘poetic’. Shears does much better than most, distinguishing himself with witty and often elegant lines that work perfectly with John’s score. Drawing on his own experiences with religious homophobia, his moments of poetry aren’t just well-earned: they can be devastating. This is a true musical comedy, and Shears proves he can keep up with Graham’s hilarious book in sacrilegious numbers like ‘He’s Inside Me’, which is exactly the ‘teenagers at Sunday School’ joke you think it is but executed so well you don’t care.

Any production involving this amount of money, big names, and anticipation will inevitably fall victim to over analysis. However, Tammy Faye achieves exactly what it sets out to achieve, and does so with an electrifying, high-camp finesse. They say that when you grab an electric fence, the shock prevents you from letting go. Tammy Faye exudes ten thousand volts from the Almeida’s small stage and you simply cannot look away. To the deepest pits of fiery Hell with the snobs: this is a damn good night out. Get on your knees and pray (or whatever else you need to do) for a ticket.

Ian Bowkett