HAND TO GOD

Circa One, Circa Theatre, 1 Taranaki St, Waterfront, Wellington

22/04/2017 - 20/05/2017

Production Details



Sex, sin and one twisted sock puppet.

Themost produced play in America right now.

“Sesame Street meets The Exorcist”The New Yorker

Hand to God is a thrill ride of a comedy about good and evil, sex and sin, faith and the filthy mind of one twisted sock puppet.

In a church basement in a little town in Texas, something evil is afoot. Or, well – at hand. The youth group has a monster in its ranks: a rogue puppet named Tyrone. He’s hijacked the hand of timid teen Jason and there’s nothing his classmates, his mother, or the pastor can do to exorcise this foulmouthed demon.

As Tyrone’s influence over Jason steadily grows, Hand to God explores the startlingly fragile nature of faith, morality, and the ties that bind us. Like nothing you’ve seen before, this Tony Award-Nominated Broadway hit is a ruthless comedy about sex, sinners, and sock puppets.

Warning: Hand to God contains adult themes and colourful language. Probably not suitable for children.

Don’t miss the New Zealand premiere of the uproarious Tony Award-Nominated Broadway hit on stage during the NZ Comedy Festival.

$30 Preview Specials – 8pm Fri 21st & 4pm Sun 23rd April

Circa One
22 April – 20 May
Preview 21 April
Tues – Thurs 6.30pm
Fri – Sat 8pm
Sun 4pm
Running time: 2 hours (including interval)
$25 – $52
Q&A/Forum Tuesday 25th April after that night’s performance 


Starring: Tom Clarke, Hannah Banks, Amy Tarleton, Jack Buchanan, Peter Hambleton

Set & Costume: Ian Harman
Puppets by: Jon Coddington 


Theatre , Puppetry ,


2 hrs, including interval

Darkly comic US stage hit arrives in Wellington

Review by Ewen Coleman 25th Apr 2017

No doubt spurred by the political climate, Hand to God is all the rage in the US. It offended the conservative sensibilities of the English when it transferred to the West End last year, and now it has turned up in Wellington.

Side-splittingly funny to the point of being tears-rolling-down-cheeks hysterical, Robert Askins’ play is raunchy and irreverent but also a dark, cruel and nasty play that expertly combines the use of puppets with human characters. And gauging from the reaction of the first night audience of Circa Theatre’s production, it’s going to be a hit here. [More

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A hell of a ride

Review by John Smythe 23rd Apr 2017

And now for something completely different …! If there is such a thing as typical Circa Theatre fare, Hand to God is certainly not it, yet the typical Circa opening night audience is wide-eyed and beaming in its wake: they love it!

The word according to Tyrone – the puppet who delivers the prologue – is that the trouble started when we stopped being carefree individuals and took to living in communities (sorry Maggie Thatcher: there is such a thing as ‘society’); when we invented ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ – and ‘the Devil’, who could be blamed for the bad stuff a person did so they still got to sit around the campfire. Thus the agenda is set.

The community we are plunged into is a club room in (according to the programme) the basement of a church in suburban Cypress, Texas, USA – where playwright Robert Askins was born in 1980 (the Texan community “where the country meets the city”, that is, not the basement).

Margery is trying to teach three young teens – Jason (her son), Jessica and Timothy – how to make puppets. Wiki’s online synopsis informs us, “Fundamentalist Christian congregations often use puppets to teach children how to follow the Bible and avoid Satan.” To engender a greater sense of purpose, Pastor Greg declares their puppet show will be “on the bill” for the whole congregation this coming Sunday.

The recently widowed Margery is too preoccupied with her own feelings to register that her son Jason may be hurting too, from the loss of his father. By contrast Timothy, whose mother is rarely sober, is ‘acting out’ with aggressively macho, sexually predatory and abusive taunts at Jessica and Jason. And Jessica takes refuge in her Jesus-loving, work-in-progress puppet.

So far (apart from the prologue) it amounts to the basis for a poignant plotline in a soap opera. Here, however, Askins exploits the ‘devil’s advocate’ puppet, Tyrone, in ways that would never be allowed on free-to-air television (shades of Sesame Street parody Avenue Q). Indeed Tyrone, and Jessica’s puppet in one scene, get away with behaviour we would judge quite differently played out by human characters.

That said, Margery and Timothy do shock and surprise us in ‘real life’, as it were, in ways that challenge our socio-political sensibilities on a number of levels … I won’t say how: see for yourselves.  

The master-stroke in the writing of this play is that in direct counterpoint to the simplistic ‘good/evil’ binary beloved by fundamentalists, all five characters are fallible, vulnerable and complex, revealing truths that seem to contradict the characteristics they present in public in order to protect themselves.

Without missing a beat in this dynamically-paced and judiciously modulated production, director Lyndee-Jane Rutherford and her ideal cast – including the hand-puppets, designed and constructed by Jon Coddington – ensure we get it all, eliciting whoops and hollers at their outrageous antics one minute and sighs of profound empathy the next.

Tom Clarke rises with alacrity to the exacting challenge of juxtaposing the split personalities of the introverted and sensitive Jason with the hyper-expressive and increasingly insensitive, yet bluntly honest, Tyrone. Even as we thrill to Tyrone’s outrageous antics, and Tom’s skill at vocalising and physicalizing his puppet, our guts are gripped by empathy with his internal battle.  

Jack Buchanan surprises us greatly as his appallingly-behaved Timothy, overdosed on testosterone, flips to reveal his true needs and feelings, even though the boy’s means of expressing them remain highly questionable.

Amy Tarleton plays Margery’s maelstrom of emotions with extraordinary skill, revealing her lost-in-bewilderment state just as we are about to harshly judge her self-centredness and abusiveness.

As her would-be replacement “open arms”, Peter Hambleton’s Pastor Greg likewise engenders compassion, despite the patronising nature of his ingrained patriarchal conditioning.

Jessica is the slow-burner in the story. Hannah Banks inhabits her relatively silent being with a compelling truth then, just when I’m thinking she’s been short-changed with an under-written role, she too finds agency in her now fully-functional puppet, Jolene. The scene where Jessica and Jason counterpoint their tentative teenage bonding with Jolene and Tyrone’s lustful consummation is an exceptional highpoint among many.

Ian Harmon’s lively set and Jennifer Lal’s lighting design are active participants, and Darlene Mohekey’s sound design enriches the experience even more.

With the Jason/Tyrone dichotomy its centre and everyone looking for love and companionship, often in bizarre and inappropriate ways, Hand to God is a hell of a ride. Hugely entertaining, I’d venture to suggest it also gives each of us an opportunity to see how we too could become ‘possessed’.

Its implications in the real world will resonate differently for everyone. For me it offers an insight into how the religious right can be so ill-equipped to deal with life’s complexities that they believe in someone like Trump and vote him in despite – or perhaps, in part, because of – his own gross behaviour.   

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John Smythe April 27th, 2017

Here is the link to my chat on RNZ with Jesse Mulligan about HAND TO GOD – and because I didn’t get to mention everyone I wanted to, here are my notes:

HAND TO GOD by Robert Askins has been named by American Theatre magazine as the most produced play in the USA over the 2016/2017 season.  Why?
Because it liberates repressed feelings and thoughts?
Because it speaks truths in outrageous ways – truth that resonate in all our lives?

The catalyst is a hand puppet of the kind we’ve all seen on Sesame Street and The Muppets – a puppet called Tyrone, created by a sensitive and introverted teenage boy called Jason, whose mother, Margery, is running a puppet club in the basement of a Fundamentalist Christian Church in a suburb of Texas, USA. So the starting point is moral propriety and cute little puppets …

The tradition goes back to medieval Jesters – to the little doll doppelganger which had even more licence than the Jester to speak the unspeakable.
Or the ventriloquist’s so-called Dummy – the alter-ego whose behaviour can horrify and even be disowned by the ventriloquist.

The other way of looking at this ‘split-personality’ syndrome is as ‘demonic possession’ and a number of tropes from The Exorcist do get a run in this play.

Tyrone delivers a prologue which establishes the key thematic drivers as the ‘individual versus community’ and ‘good versus evil’ – and because it’s theatre the audience warms very quickly to the supposedly ‘evil’ puppet, not least because he speaks the truth; he reveals what’s really going on for Jason.

The back story is that Jason’s dad has died and his mother, Margery, is ‘hurting so bad’ at the loss, and riddled with quite a lot of guilt as well, that she’s ‘not there for’ Jason – who is harbouring a deep-set anger at both his parents, at the way they stuffed up their lives – so it all comes out through the puppet, Tyrone, who becomes increasingly demonic as the play progresses.

Tom Clarke is superb as both Jason and Tyrone, ensuring we feel the boy’s pain even as we thrill to Tyrone’s outrageous behaviour. It’s a huge challenge that he meets with great skill – not least in the puppetry (coached by Jon Coddington who made all the iterations of Tryone and the other puppets too).

As Margery, Amy Tarleton likewise elicits compassion despite getting way out of control with bad boy Timothy, whose macho, sexually predatory, bullying behaviour also hides a hurting soul – and Jack Buchanan is brilliant at both being the bastard and giving us that insight into his vulnerability. Playwright Robert Askin is making an important point here about how attractive bad boys can be; asking us to ask ourselves what that’s about.

Askin also plays with our desire for romance, first with Pastor Greg – poignantly played by Peter Hambleton – whose unrequited feeling for Margery may be seen as love or as a tacky attempt to exploit a vulnerable woman ...

But the really heart-warming part of the play comes with the slow blooming of a relationship between the quiet girl, Jessica – wonderfully realised by Hannah Banks – and Jason: a consummation both facilitated and counterpointed through her very proactive puppet, Jolene, and Jason’s extroverted Tyrone.

So beneath all the fear, hurt, anger, aggression and exploitation, love is at the heart of Hand to God – and director by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford ensures we get it all in this hugely entertaining and highly dynamic production.

A shout out too, to the designers: Ian Harmon’s set and costume, Jennifer Lal’s lighting and Darlene Mohekey’s sound designs enable and enhance our experience with great artistry.

Hand to God is a hell of a ride – at Circa Theatre, Wellington until 20 May.

PS: I said in my review that it “offers an insight into how the religious right can be so ill-equipped to deal with life’s complexities that they believe in someone like Trump and vote him in despite – or perhaps, in part, because of – his own gross behaviour.” So is this play’s huge popularity in the USA a reflection of that zeitgeist or an attempt to purge ourselves of it?

Here is the link to my chat on RNZ with Jesse Mulligan about HAND TO GOD – and because I didn’t get to mention everyone I wanted to, here are my notes:

HAND TO GOD by Robert Askins has been named by American Theatre magazine as the most produced play in the USA over the 2016/2017 season.  Why?
Because it liberates repressed feelings and thoughts?
Because it speaks truths in outrageous ways – truth that resonate in all our lives?

The catalyst is a hand puppet of the kind we’ve all seen on Sesame Street and The Muppets – a puppet called Tyrone, created by a sensitive and introverted teenage boy called Jason, whose mother, Margery, is running a puppet club in the basement of a Fundamentalist Christian Church in a suburb of Texas, USA. So the starting point is moral propriety and cute little puppets …

The tradition goes back to medieval Jesters – to the little doll doppelganger which had even more licence than the Jester to speak the unspeakable.
Or the ventriloquist’s so-called Dummy – the alter-ego whose behaviour can horrify and even be disowned by the ventriloquist.

The other way of looking at this ‘split-personality’ syndrome is as ‘demonic possession’ and a number of tropes from The Exorcist do get a run in this play.

Tyrone delivers a prologue which establishes the key thematic drivers as the ‘individual versus community’ and ‘good versus evil’ – and because it’s theatre the audience warms very quickly to the supposedly ‘evil’ puppet, not least because he speaks the truth; he reveals what’s really going on for Jason.

The back story is that Jason’s dad has died and his mother, Margery, is ‘hurting so bad’ at the loss, and riddled with quite a lot of guilt as well, that she’s ‘not there for’ Jason – who is harbouring a deep-set anger at both his parents, at the way they stuffed up their lives – so it all comes out through the puppet, Tyrone, who becomes increasingly demonic as the play progresses.

Tom Clarke is superb as both Jason and Tyrone, ensuring we feel the boy’s pain even as we thrill to Tyrone’s outrageous behaviour. It’s a huge challenge that he meets with great skill – not least in the puppetry (coached by Jon Coddington who made all the iterations of Tryone and the other puppets too).

As Margery, Amy Tarleton likewise elicits compassion despite getting way out of control with bad boy Timothy, whose macho, sexually predatory, bullying behaviour also hides a hurting soul – and Jack Buchanan is brilliant at both being the bastard and giving us that insight into his vulnerability. Playwright Robert Askin is making an important point here about how attractive bad boys can be; asking us to ask ourselves what that’s about.

Askin also plays with our desire for romance, first with Pastor Greg – poignantly played by Peter Hambleton – whose unrequited feeling for Margery may be seen as love or as a tacky attempt to exploit a vulnerable woman ...

But the really heart-warming part of the play comes with the slow blooming of a relationship between the quiet girl, Jessica – wonderfully realised by Hannah Banks – and Jason: a consummation both facilitated and counterpointed through her very proactive puppet, Jolene, and Jason’s extroverted Tyrone.

So beneath all the fear, hurt, anger, aggression and exploitation, love is at the heart of Hand to God – and director by Lyndee-Jane Rutherford ensures we get it all in this hugely entertaining and highly dynamic production.

A shout out too, to the designers: Ian Harmon’s set and costume, Jennifer Lal’s lighting and Darlene Mohekey’s sound designs enable and enhance our experience with great artistry.

Hand to God is a hell of a ride – at Circa Theatre, Wellington until 20 May.

PS: I said in my review that it “offers an insight into how the religious right can be so ill-equipped to deal with life’s complexities that they believe in someone like Trump and vote him in despite – or perhaps, in part, because of – his own gross behaviour.” So is this play’s huge popularity in the USA a reflection of that zeitgeist or an attempt to purge ourselves of it?

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