Religious con artists are fascinating characters, whether they're real like Jimmy Swaggart or fictional like Elmer Gantry. We are drawn to such stories because of the vulnerability inherent in being a congregant in such a church. That is, we are asked to believe and if we don't get the results we anticipate, we are told it's our fault because we just don't believe enough.
Based on the 1992 film starring Steve Martin, the script problems surface almost immediately after we meet Jonas Nightingale, who is the faith healer of a travelling tent show. Jonas and his sister Sam sing about their recent travails, including his stint in jail and their plans for another big"score." This opening number shortcuts the storytelling and denies the audience the pleasure of discovering the duo's skullduggery for themselves.
With any twinge of suspense removed, that pattern is continued throughout the two-hour show, with characters speaking and singing all their character traits and intentions. That makes for a long slog which might have been brightened by imaginative performances. Kate Leigh Michalski puts a more human touch on Marla, but she is saddled with a scripted romantic attraction to Jonas that feels wrong, especially as it incongruously blooms immediately after she's outed him as a sleaze. And she also has a disabled son Jake who walks on crutches and who believes that Jonas can cure him. Does it happen? One hint: This is a musical, not real life.