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There's a saying that God has never had anyone but imperfect people to work with. This notion is central to Katori Hall's new play Our Lady of Kibeho, which just opened at the Pershing Square Signature Center. In this Signature Theatre Company production, which has been directed by Michael Greif, the imperfection takes the form of three young women at the Catholic Kibeho College in Rwanda, who predict a tragedy that, at least at first, no one believes, and certainly no one can prevent. But the faith that courses through many of the characters is enough to sustain them—and, for that matter, the play—when things do not flow smoothly. Hall based her story, which is set in 1981 and 1982, on actual events that saw the three women—Alphonsine Mumureke, Anathalie Mukamazimpaka, and Marie-Claire Mukangango—claim visions of, and perhaps possession by, the Virgin Mary, who foresaw terrible things. Hall generally repects the history, and in her telling, Alphonsine (Nneka Okafor), innocent and not deeply educated in doctrine, has her vision first, and talk of what she saw and experienced spreads until both peacemaker Anathalie (Mandi Masden) and troublemaker Marie-Claire (Joaquina Kalukango) are caught in its thrall. But are they telling the truth? Such is the dilemma facing Father Tuyishime (Owiso Odera), the school's head priest, and Sister Evangelique (Starla Benford), the head nun. There are plenty of reasons to doubt the women, but faith manages, and it's not long before the school, and the whole town, are caught up in the fever of the girls' prophecies. Which means it's not long before the Vatican hears about it and gets involved, too, sending Father Flavia (T. Ryder Smith) from the "miracles office" to determine whether what's happening is genuine. And if you're not familiar with the real-world case, you'll be kept guessing about the outcome until almost the very end. Captivating as these questions are, however, they're actually the least interesting part of what Hall's written. She's hamstrung a bit by the facts here, and doesn't always transcend them to make each scene as nail-biting as it could possibly be. (Father Flavia's examinations in particular are extensive, but more muted than you might expect given their importance.) Much more effective are the characters' struggles with their own spirituality: Alphonsine's fretting that she's not ready for the notoriety that's been thrust upon her because, say, she doesn't thoroughly understand the nature of the Trinity; or especially Father Tuyishime's own crisis, in which he's no longer entirely sure what—if anything—about his religion he can accept. Layered on these concerns are the subtle, artfully drawn investigations of the cultural strife that's long gripped Rwanda. Though there are few outright conflicts between the Hutus and the Tutsis on campus, the anger and prejudices inform every scene and most every relationship—including, and most vitally, among the girls—and set the stage for the horrific genocide that would come only about a decade later (most notably in 1995 to Kibeho itself). Hall presents this as established, if uncomfortable, but draws so little attention to it unfolding that you're primed to lose yourself in everything else and forget about the terror that's stalking the edges of the play. Unfortunately, complete immersion is difficult. Our Lady of Kibeho is scattered and messy, and holds together in its best moments with the help of its dual underlying messages. But with so much going on, it needs all the focus it can get in its staging, and it doesn't receive that from director Michael Greif. Greif has placed the action so it fills not only the sprawling Irene Diamond stage, but also stretching out into the audience on the sides and in the aisles. Though set designer Rachel Hauck and lighting designer Ben Stanton try to rein things in, many scenes and plot points become fuzzy as you try to follow just the strict motion of the action. Suffering most are the first act finale, in which Marie-Claire is brought kicking and screaming into the fold, and the climax, when everyone in Kibeho learns too much about where they're heading. Each should be electrifying, but instead tends to circle in place, as though it's looking for the ideal place to land and not finding it. The acting is commendable across the board, but worthy of special mention are Okafor, who brings a weeping gentleness to the most unready of all the girls, and Odera, who's superb at depicting a man who's lost within his own beliefs, and probably can't be cured of his confusion by anything as useless as certitude. These two people must come into their own, and in their performers' hands, that's exactly what happens. The final scene underscores this: Though everything that can be known about what's transpired is known by that point, everyone is still left guessing—about what it means for them, for the world, and for the quest for God that has, on some level, occupied all of their lives. We know more than they do, but by the end you wish you didn't; there's too much heartbreak to come, and not even the most fervent warning from Mary can stop it. As Father Tuyishime stands, looking out at the bewildering future before him, you'll see him processing as he never has before the realization that God does indeed work in mysterious ways. Our Lady of Kibeho insists we respect that, but also respect the role we play in crafting the kingdom in which He'd have us live. We're all imperfect people, Hall reminds us at every turn, but we're capable of achieving great things—and avoiding great tragedy—when we listen more closely to all the voices that surround us.
Our Lady of Kibeho
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