
Homophobia, marital discord, drug addiction, mental illness, Bible-beating Christians: You’d be amazed how many hot-button issues Leslye Headland can fit into the 105-minute loosely autobiographical Cult of Love.
A gloriously pitch-black comedy centered on a dysfunctional family, Cult of Love marks the final entry in the playwright’s Dante-inspired Seven Deadly Plays, and the much-deserved Broadway debut for TV vet Headland, the mastermind behind Netflix’s Russian Doll and the Star Wars Disney+ series The Acolyte. The previous six plays, all of which premiered at Los Angeles’ IAMA Theatre Co., and the sins on which they’re based, are: Cinephelia (lust), Bachelorette (gluttony), Assistance (greed), Surfer Girl (sloth), Reverb (wrath), The Accidental Blonde (envy).
Cult of Love, the new Second Stage production that just opened at Broadway’s Helen Hayes Theater, tackles pride by questioning the institution of religion and the implacable beliefs of the goodhearted, pious Dahl family: matriarch Ginny (Mare Winningham, marvelous); patriarch Bill (Succession alum David Rasche); and their daughter, the baby of the family, Diana (Shailene Woodley, in an impressive Broadway debut), a mother of a 6-month-old who’s pregnant with her second child.
[Read Michael Sommers’ ★★★☆☆ review here.]
Also celebrating the annual Dahls’ Christmas in Connecticut: almost priest–turned–lawyer Mark (stage, TV, and movie triple-threat Zachary Quinto), the oldest Dahl; his wife, Rachel (Molly Bernard, the breakout star of TV’s Younger), who’s never without a quip or a wineglass; Mark’s celebrity chef sister, Evie (Headland’s real-life wife, Rebecca Henderson, recently seen as Vernestra, a 116-year-old Jedi Master, in The Acolyte), and her new wife, Pippa (Fun Home’s Roberta Colindrez), fresh from their Instagrammable Italian honeymoon; and in-recovery Dahl brother Johnny (Christopher Sears), who brings his sober friend Loren (model and Euphoria star Barbie Ferreira).
When Johnny finally arrives, after 9 p.m.—“I can’t start Christmas until all four of my babies are here,” insists Ginny—they’re all hungry, and irritable. It’s not long before the proverbial claws come out and Diana is telling Evie that being gay is “a spiritual sickness. A self-hatred.” Her Episcopal priest husband, James (Christopher Lowell)—a “fucking Batman villain,” according to Evie—agrees: “Yes Lord…Amen.” No physical punches are thrown, but the fighting—and the self-righteousness—only gets fiercer from that point on.
Between rounds, the Dahls pause to play any instrument within arm’s reach—piano, banjo, guitar, harmonica, melodica, you name it—and sing seasonal hymns, centuries-old carols, and even, ahem, an African-American spiritual. Music is a balm, a distraction, a release; it’s also the only time the family is in tune—in perfect harmony, in fact. The rest of the play, they struggle to connect; they clash. Music is the only thing that brings them together, covers the awkward silences, and bridges the massive emotional gaps.
Ironically, the setting—farmhouse-chic, courtesy of John Lee Beatty—couldn’t be more idyllic. The set is straight of a Hallmark movie: twinkle lights and garlands trimming every edge of the room; seasonal figurines tucked into every nook and cranny; festive throws; red-and-green table linens; stockings hung from the mantel with care; and, of course, a towering tree in the bay window.
Helmed by Headland’s go-to collaborator Trip Cullman—who also directed Assistance (inspired by the playwright’s years working for Harvey Weinstein at Miramax), the deliciously bawdy Bachelorette, and the 2016 psychodrama The Layover—Cult of Love couldn’t be better timed: As we’re all agonizing over our own impending holiday family gatherings, there’s nothing more comforting than watching other people’s messed-up relatives tear each other to pieces, especially when there’s a prescription painkiller involved. Now will someone please bring us some figgy pudding?
Cult of Love opened Decemver 12, 2024 at the Helen Hayes Theater and runs through February 2, 2025. Tickets and information: 2st.com