The problem with the piece is actually in the source material itself. Its text apes Shakespearean poetry, and is infused with a sense of fate, not tragedy, thereby abstracting the very dramas that the ensemble works so very hard to bring to life. Also, Anonymous was not Shakespeare, so the dialogue was torturous, and, as an aside, distancing, which was at odds with the staging, which tried to make it involving and immediate.

This version of the Creation is strongly based on the concept of Sin, and depicts the need for mankind to make offerings. It interjects the New Testament into the Old Testament, thereby making the play an argument, not a drama. But the argument, oddly enough, exposes the strong Oedipalism of the Christian myth, whereby God the Father – pathologically whimsical and possessively controlling – runs the show until intermission, while The Messiah, his son, displaces Him once we have returned to our seats. Also, the Herod we are shown has more than a touch of Nero about him, and he gets nearly as much stage time as Moses, who gets a distinctly short shift here. Guess there’s only room for one messiah in this Dodge City.

This, despite the fact that the Dionysian philosophy of the group, sneaks through in "Blessed Be" being worked into the text. In characterizations, Adam cowers and Eve is curious.

But the direction of Michael Nehring that tells this dubious story is brilliant and enthralling. His skill at visualization asserts itself immediately, as bodies lie spread out on the stage before plunging us into total darkness. As the elements of first, the cosmos, and then, the earth, they come to life at God’s command, using their arms to emulate plants reaching for light, birds in flight, and the evolution from reptilian life to apes, making cute little monkey noises.

Nehring’s judgment is nearly flawless, having dust cover the naked bodies of Edgar Landa and Dawn Hillman, as Adam and Eve. Body postures speak volumes: Death is shown to be a puppet for God’s will, and traditional role assignments are reaffirmed, as Evil (in the form of Death and the Tree of Knowledge) is shown to be female, and the serpent himself is played by African American Darryl Ordell. The racial balance is thereafter reversed, however, as the Cain of Matthew McCray is white and the more sympathetic, if childlike, Abel of Anthony Brocatto Powell is black. Nehring jumbles the sexes as well, having Seth played by a woman, Natalie Sander, who is open-eyed in her wonder and grief.

With imaginative simplicity, Nehring effectively depicts the coming of strife among mankind, and captures the quiet humor of a Noah fearful of his whimsical and all-powerful "friend," God. The Flood comes with the snap of God’s fingers, as blue sheets unravel to become the waters. Speaking of God’s whimsy, we feel sorry for the incredulous Issac of Tegan Ashton Cohan.

Crucially important to this very successful staging was the lighting of Paul R. DeDoes, whose designs were used for largely symbolic purpose. The costume design of Jennifer Kirschman was from poverty row, yet well chosen to state the necessary. Musical Director Ryan Poulson likewise made an effective accent, especially in his use of themes inflected by Negro spirituals and the Catholic Liturgical flavorings that accompanied the announcement of the !0 Commandments by God himself to Moses.

But the most pronounced stylistic influence was the echo of expressionism to be found in Nehring’s use of body posture and movement, although its application is not always successful. For instance, the use of secret hand signs, at first inspired, becomes pretentious and mannered. Yet, the leitmotif of a woman on hands and knees, bent over a tree that Adam becomes, and the Altar upon which Issac is to be offered, also hints at Nut as the night sky over Egypt, much like the Death cleansing covenant with God is portrayed as an astrological pact. Expressionist as well is Nehring’s use of the speaking in tongues that comes to suggest the forces beyond human understanding, and key moments in the drama itself: The (here literally) Virgin Mary, who somehow knows she is barren without having tried, gets impregnated by the black hand of Gabriel on her white belly, her birthing is depicted as if it were an offering (an interesting interpretation, given the fate of her child), and, unintentionally comically, her husband, the aged Joseph, gets depicted as being cuckolded by Gabriel. The final image of the death of Simeon not only neatly closes out the drama, as Simeon is played by the same gifted actor, Soren Oliver, who opened the play as God, but his final, agonized posture implies a crucifixion, as well.

The acting by the ensemble was so uniformly fine, it is hard to single out any one performer for excellence, but Kyle Ingleman brought incongruous Matinee Idol good looks to his roles, especially as Jochim and the harried Noah. Most infectious of all was Sharyn-genel Gabriel, who played Mary. In this part, she personified obedient submission, but whether she was the dramatic focus of any scene or not, her intense involvement throughout personified that of the entire cast. And, I ask you, where else would she who ends the play as a venerated Virgin begin it by groveling at your feet as a shapeless cosmic form?