TT: She’s so enlightened

I review the Broadway transfer of Sherie Rene Scott’s Everyday Rapture in the New York section of today’s Wall Street Journal–and, unlike my colleagues, I wasn’t impressed. Here’s an excerpt.
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The attractions of “Everyday Rapture” can be summed up in nine words: Ms. Scott is beautiful, sexy and a terrific singer. I loved her in “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels,” and had I seen this show in a cabaret–minus the talk–I might have enjoyed it. Had I paid $116.50 to see it in a Broadway theater, on the other hand, I’d have gone home fuming, not because Ms. Scott sings less well or looks less fetching in front of an audience of 740 but because she has nothing to say that’s worth hearing and spends 90 minutes saying it. On the other hand, what Ms. Scott and Dick Scanlan (who co-wrote the book) tell us about her life and thought will be of considerable interest to those wishing to study the point of view of a fortysomething New Yorker who grew up in Kansas, was raised as a member of a fundamentalist religious sect, shook the prairie dirt from her feet as fast as she could and now looks back on her childhood and youth with a contempt that she fails to disguise as amused tolerance.
I may possibly be doing Ms. Scott a disservice, since the “Sherie Rene Scott” whom she plays in “Everyday Rapture” is a metafictional character who tells stories about her “past” that she and Mr. Scanlan may or may not have made up. “Only some are factual,” she says. “But all are true.” On the other hand, Ms. Scott’s coyness about the facts of her real life does nothing to conceal her feelings about the culture that she describes in “Everyday Rapture.” It was, to hear her tell it, a sewer of art-hating homophobes whose failure to share Ms. Scott’s appreciation for the genius of Judy Garland (“Torn between two lovers–Jesus and Judy”) was almost as odious as their belief that all homosexuals are headed for the hottest corner of hell. Somehow I doubt that absolutely everybody in Kansas feels that way, but Ms. Scott doesn’t seem to have met anyone there (except for her gay cousin) who begged to differ.
The trouble with “Everyday Rapture” is not its implicit belief system–I’m as much of a humanist as the next theater-loving Upper West Side aesthete–but the preening condescension with which Ms. Scott and her collaborator portray her own steady ascent to the heights of greeting-card enlightenment…
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Read the whole thing here.