Rogue Machine—the L.A. stage’s exemplar of edgy, indie, intimate theater—strikes again with playwright Joy Gregory’s Saint Megan, the very first play to be produced that originated in the cauldron of Rogue Machine’s Playwright’s Roundtable. Saint Megan is a (presumably loosely) fact-based drama about the Kansas-based Westboro Baptist Church, misled by Rev. Fred Phelps (an insidious offstage presence in this mostly female cast), who preach a truly demented, hateful, sexually repressive (but of course) misinterpretation of Christianity. They wage war against the LGBTQ community, screeching “God hates fags!” and have disrupted military funerals.
Fred’s granddaughter, the eponymous Megan (Caitlin Zambito), is one of the fanatical cult’s key acolytes, spreading hate speech at live confrontations and on social media. There, on Twitter, she encounters Chad (Zack Rocklin-Waltch, who plays three roles), a secular Jew who has his own eclectic take on the Old Testament, whom she engages with in a discourse that will change her life. But who will convert who?
Gregory’s one-act play is framed by hymn-singing, furniture making, occasionally twitchy Shaker women, clad in religious garb, including bonnets, reminiscent of Hulu’s The Handmaid’s Tale. (Costume designer Christine Cover Ferro told me that the gowns worn by the female followers in the theocratic Republic of Gilead in the TV adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s dystopian novel were derived from the Shakers.) The Shakers were another overzealous sect that first appeared in America around the time of the Revolution, and this bookending of Westboro’s maniacal devotees with the Shakers is an effective theatrical device that raises questions about religion and devotion over the centuries.
Saint Megan also raises questions about the First Amendment, which, in addition to guaranteeing free speech, protects freedom of religion. The play dramatizes how Westboro’s disturbing actions at the burial service of a soldier led to the arrest of Megan’s mother and Fred’s daughter, Shirley Phelps (Rachel Sorsa), and a courtroom battle that went all the way to the Supreme Court. No Wisenheimer, the devil himself, did not file a friend of the court brief in that case on the Phelps behalf, but guess who prevailed in the highest court in the land?
I wonder whether publicly expressed hate speech is really protected by the First Amendment. It can be reasonably argued that disseminating hatred against specific racial, religious, gender, et al., groups and individuals puts those being excoriated in the public square in imminent harm. I rest my case.
Saint Megan is always convincingly acted. It can be said that Caitlin Zambito, as the title character, had preparation for this role by acting in Rogue Machine’s 2024 production of H*tler’s Tasters, Michelle Kholos Brooks’ witty, chilling take on female members of another cult—the Nazis—who, come to think of it, aren’t ideologically too different from those Westboro wackos.
Pulling triple duty as the cast’s sole male thespian, Zack Rocklin-Waltch plays the police officer who busts Shirley Phelps, as well as Zach, a son of the Phelps who, alas, did not measure up to their demented expectations. As Shirley, Rachel Sorsa reveals the human toll that stringent sectarianism and ideological absolutism exact on “true believers.”
In her directorial debut, Lina Patel has a fine sense of mise-en-scène and also elicits persuasive performances from Meg Cain as Grace Phelps, Cordelia Leigh as Bekah Phelps, and Shannon Lee Clair in multiple parts, including as a Shaker woman and Chad’s live-in girlfriend who is losing her grip on him to the glib Megan, as her boyfriend’s long-distance online relationship grows.
According to Rogue Machine’s website, sponsored by the Los Angeles New Play Project, “The Playwright’s Roundtable is Rogue Machine Theatre’s incubator for bold, boundary-pushing new work. Over the course of a five-month residency, participating playwrights meet biweekly in a peer-led environment to develop original plays from the ground up.” Joy Gregory’s one-act play is certainly a worthy outcome of that endeavor, as the Roundtable bears the fruit of its literary labor with its first production.
Saint Megan is certainly well-written, and Gregory deserves plaudits for daring to dramatize such challenging, overtly “culture war” subject matter. Sometimes when I attend a production on stage or screen, I muse that the show was too long and could have been improved by cutting sections, 10 minutes here, 20 minutes there. So, here’s a rare compliment—in this critic’s humble opinion, Saint Megan would be even mo’ bettah if it added, say, another 10 or so minutes. Megan Phelps’ evolution could be more fleshed out; as it is in an 80-or-so-minute one-act, her development is too rushed, like voilà! all of a sudden, it just happens. Instant presto! Like the unfolding of a flower into full bloom, character growth takes time (on- and offstage).
But the fact that Gregory leaves us wanting a bit more is really a testament to what a good play she has wrought, and is a mere quibble. Sometimes after seeing a show, I feel like it should be rated: “I could have lived without it.” But I was really glad I made the trip from the hinterlands to enjoy this work of art artfully presented at Melrose Avenue, as well as the post-play reception and camaraderie. A good time was had by all.
I highly recommend Saint Megan for theatergoers interested in religious, political, LGBTQ, and free expression issues, as well as excellent acting, writing, and direction. Zealots of any stripe are overbearing pests to be avoided like the plague and overthrown whenever they are in power. Remember: God hates religious fanatics who impose themselves on others! (This pagan has spoken!)
The world premiere of Saint Megan is being performed Fridays, Saturdays, and Mondays (dark on Halloween) at 8:00 p.m. and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. through Nov. 22 at the Matrix Theatre, 7657 Melrose Avenue, L.A., California, 90048. For reservations, call (213)282-8185 or visit here.
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