Joanna Castle Miller in her own play COVERSA at Theatre Lab (Photos by Morgan Sophia Photography)
By Bill Hirschman
The responsibility to progress beyond religious belief and on to social action. The 6,000-year-old never ending saga of perilous immigration. Truth versus reenforcing societal myths. And evolving from your religious upbringing into a different faith.
At least a half-dozen such themes intersect in CONVERSA on the Theatre Lab stage driven by the infectiously enthused playwright/performer Joanna Castle Miller whose direct TED-like address to the audience is infused with her engaging skill as a stand-up comedienne.
This intellectually stimulating world premiere is consistently entertaining and engaging that, for instance, retraces the entire Exodus as an extended turn replete with hand puppets and Moses conferring with God about which Egyptian plague is next.
All these are delivered through Feb. 22 with simultaneous wry humor and passion-driven introspection by the winning Miller who grabs and charms the audience from the very first moment in a droll surprise we won’t spoil.
Miller and director Matt Stabile take us on a lengthy multi-stop developmental journey based on Miller’s own life and that of her mother whom she interviewed in an attempt to discover her own identity.
In her youth, her mother wanted to become a rabbi in the Deep South. But she was surrounded by the onslaught of such groups as Jews for Jesus which claimed that Jewish Old Testament is “okay,” but doesn’t go far enough. The New Testament would transform those who accept it into “a completed Jew.” Their concept had legs because of its emphasis on reconciliation and forgiveness.
So Miller is raised in a Messianic Christian home where her mother hosts Passover dinners for Christians. The actress elicits laughs recreating her mother linking the items on the sacred seder plate to her Savior, such as:
“The matzo represents the hurried exodus from Egypt. And Jesus was also exiled to Egypt when he was born, because Herod wanted to kill him. …The maror represents the bitter pain of the Jews when they were slaves in Egypt. And you know who else experienced bitter pain? Jesus. That’s right. It’s all about our Lord. The afikomen represents: (leading the crowd’s vocal participation) Jesus. The charoset is the goodness of…Jesus! …. The matzo is the flesh of: …Jesus!”
It’s difficult to recreate how funny this near-heresy is because of Miller’s jovial delivery clearly intended to tickle ribs.
Young Joanna immerses in evangelical Christian-ology, eventually becoming a missionary herself. But she begins to become intrigued by her Jewish past. She learns that her genealogy includes a major Jewish figure centuries ago in Spain when the Jews were forced to publicly convert (while often hiding their true faith behind closed doors.) We travel with her through her complete commitment to Judaism.
Much of Miller’s awakening occurs when she visits Spain and where she begins to feel the connection. Miller has an artist’s talent for observing telling details of her environment such as noticing empty notches on walls in small Spanish towns where mezuzahs once hung.
The play’s title is a Spanish-Portuguese term for the Jews forced to become Christians in the 14th and 15th centuries. It can be interpreted as anyone who has changed the belief system.
But if religion provides the foundation of the play, then the bricks and levels laid upon it are complex, such as the reticence and the need for us to equate our past with those seeking freedom today. Miller sees a failing of a majority of devout faith-driven religious people in their ignoring the nearly universal journey – often geographic – that they all share and should support in all peoples.
For instance, after her humorous Exodus routine, she cites how hundreds of North Africans have died crossing the Mediterranean recently in a similar flight for freedom.
“Every year when we celebrate Passover, we essentially re-enact this Exodus story, the getting out. We remember we were migrants….. Millions of people have left their homes looking for a better life. We like to flatten these travelers into broad, descriptive terms: migrants, pilgrims, aliens, invaders, threats…. We reenact our history for ourselves and our descendants to establish our myths so the new ideas that come like waves won’t have the power to change our minds.”
There’s no fourth wall to break. She speaks directly to the audience and demolishes any sense of traditional theatrical tropes, even at one point listing the names of the sponsors.
While discussing neuroscientists’ theory of mutual prediction, she notes, “In search of more predictions, your mind may wander to whether you’ve turned your phone off. Perhaps you know you did, but now you’re predicting whether you’re stuck beside that one asshole that didn’t turn theirs off and won’t. Even now, even with this awkward pause in which to do it.”
Indeed, part of her ultimate aim is to gently entice the audience to actively integrate their own beliefs and journeys into the ones she is laying out. She insists the audience actively inject their own experience as the play digs deeper and deeper. She calls for a unity of all of us by recognizing and honoring the shared journey of “crossing the wilderness and standing at the sea.”
This culminates in a consummate penultimate scene in which everyone does participate in a kind of passing the plate (not monetary) of typewritten descriptions of journeys that other people have taken.
To be fair, the script could use an editor; some points are made over and over. It’s a lengthy alleged 90 minutes.
For instance, the passing the plate would have made a superb finale. But Miller continues numerous extraneous beats including conferring with someone on the internet about how to bake matzo in a wood-burning oven in the jungle with a hurricane closing in.
Finally, she returns in the last 60 seconds or so to lighting Sabbath candles in reaffirmation of her refound faith. But that stretch before it….. We know darn well it meant something personally to the playwright since the play’s journey is autobiographical. And it would be hard for her to cut back some of the stops on a journey that personally mean so much to her.
Stabile’s direction, consistent with his style, is assured, carefully paced and allows Joanna a kinetic physical freedom, but is nearly invisible to most audience members. Which is a good thing.
Throughout, a wide variety of music from Paul Curtis underscores, even teases, Miller’s routine with keyboard, guitar, banjo, percussion for rim shots and a kazoo. Miller’s strong voice intones everything from “Wayfaring Stranger” to “Go Down Moses.”
A nagging quibble throughout the evening: Aubrey Rodriguez’s finely wrought set depicts some rough-hewn cabin under a grass roof and well-worn third-hand furnishing. It is isn’t until 97 percent of the play is over that we have even remotely a clue what that very specific environment has to do with anything else in the play. That said, Jameelah Basiley deserves some kind of award for providing scores of essential props.
A second Miller play Inferna will bow April 11-26 as part of Theatre Lab’s 2026 Owl New Play Festival. In this, Miller and a male actor star in what is described as “a hilarious canon-busting play about heaven, hell and the absurdity of childhood.” Elsewhere it is listed as “specifically how church activities and school plays both provided “scripts” she faithfully followed each step of the way. Over the course of the evening, through comedic re-enactments, music, and sharing of stories, they begin to unravel and more fully understand the unstated and pervasive lessons learned from the texts passed down to her and that the mentors she adored aren’t who they appeared to be.”
CONVERSA runs through Feb. 22 at Theatre Lab, on Florida Atlantic University’s Boca Raton campus at 777 Glades Road. Performances are held at 7:30 p.m. Thursdays-Saturday 3 p.m. Saturday-Sundays. Tickets range from $35 to $45. Call (561) 297-6124 or visit fauevents.com.
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