Corpus Christi

Figure 1.

The ensemble in the Manhattan Theatre Club’s production of Terrence McNally’s Corpus Christi, directed by Joe Mantello. Photo: Joan Marcus.

On May 23, 1998, the New York Times announced that the Manhattan Theatre Club would be canceling its scheduled production of playwright Terrence McNally’s newest play, Corpus Christi, due to bomb and death threats made against the theatre, its personnel, and the playwright. The Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights disavowed responsibility for the threats but did publicly applaud the decision, calling the play “blasphemous.” A week later, after counter-demonstrations by a roster of well-known contemporary playwrights, the play was reinstated at MTC. Although the Catholic League’s president had not read the play, reports claiming that it depicted a gay Jesus-like figure who has sex with his apostles was enough to ignite a series of events that captured the attention of New Yorkers, theatre artists and others, perhaps to a greater extent than McNally’s play itself.

On opening night, two separate demonstrations took place concurrently on opposite ends of the block outside the theater. Play protesters assembled at one end with placards declaring McNally’s play a lie and homosexuality a sin, as well as demanding the play be censored. At the other end of the block, supporters of the play, who were participating in a “silent march” organized by the People for the American Way, carried small white placards with quotes from various notable individuals on the importance of freedom of expression. Hundreds of New York City police officers and dozens of news reporters rounded out the outdoor cast. Throughout the play’s run, as a precautionary measure, all audience members passed through a metal detector, and the city stationed a police officer outside the theatre.

Corpus Christi is presumably a reclamation of the story of Christ’s life for gay men. Within its meta-theatrical structure, the thirteen male actors assembled onstage to announce their intentions of retelling “an old and familiar story.” The actors were then transformed into their characters by the actor playing John, who symbolically baptized each of them. The theatre had been stripped bare to expose its backstage areas and lighting equipment. The actors changed into their costumes—khaki pants, white shirts and bare feet—at the rear of the space, in full view of the audience. Most of the play’s action then took place on the large wooden stage in the center of the space, but exposure of the backstage areas meant that the actors remained in view of the audience for most of the performance.

The story begins with Mary giving birth to Joshua, the Jesus-like figure, in a motel in Corpus Christi, Texas. McNally’s script is peppered with comic giveaway lines, such as Joseph’s sexually frustrated acknowledgment of Mary’s virginity. The story follows Joshua as he grows up feeling different from his classmates, although the reasons for his difference are vague: is it because he hears the voice of God speaking to him constantly, or is it because he is gay? As the play progressed, his flustered high school prom date discovered him sharing his first stolen kiss with Judas, played by Josh Lucas. After their kiss the lights faded out and when they came back up the two were leaning against each other in a tired familiar way, fully clothed, smoking cigarettes, implying the two had sex. While Joshua later performed a marriage between two of his disciples, this was the extent of the sexually explicit content that had sparked controversy. Joshua hitchhiked out of Corpus Christi shortly after the prom to begin his predictable journey, perform the expected miracles, and amass a following of young disciples.

Much of what McNally points out—such as the hypocrisy of the Church’s persecution of homosexuals in light of Christ’s teachings of love and tolerance—is obvious. Parallels that both he and director Joe Mantello make between the persecution of Joshua and contemporary oppressions...