Hell House

St. Ann's Warehouse. Adapted from the official text by Pastor Keenan Roberts. Dir. Alex Timbers. With ensemble cast.

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FETUS DON’T FAIL ME NOW Pregnant cheerleader Julie Klausner, center, has a medical emergency.

FETUS DON’T FAIL ME NOW Pregnant cheerleader Julie Klausner, center, has a medical emergency. Photograph: Joan Marcus

Time Out Ratings

<strong>Rating: </strong>0/5

“Hell is for children,” sayeth Pat Benatar, and verily, the wise men of the megachurch in the Bible Belt hearkened unto her cry and they did build them a Hell House, to fright the Christian youth away from raves, alcohol and gay sex, that the hot little teens should not cleave unto each other in sweaty backseats, nor eat of the forbidden Ecstasy pill, nor smite their lifestyle-cramping fetuses, but shall instead gnash their teeth and bewail their woe in the outer dark. “A house full of Hell have I given thee,” sayeth the Lord, “and thou shalt charge five-and-twenty shekels to scare the sinful and make back thine investment—which must be massive, since this is such a big-ass production.”

So it came to pass that Alex Timbers, of the tribe Les Freres Corbusier, in the town of Theatrical Hipsterdom, did purchase him a Hell House starter kit in sorta good faith from the Pastor Keenan Roberts. Then did Timbers and his kin erect their thrilling, sensational, devoutly insane Hell House in Dumbo, with a blood-spattered ER for the cheerleader abortion, a nerve-jangling school shooting and a truly creepy interview with Lucifer (Jeff Biehl). Mightily doth it resist ironic temptation, but thou mayest as well bid the wind be still or the desert to yield Evian. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of morbid, ignorant, homophobic horseshit that is Christian evangelism, I shall fear no evil, nor cease my giggles. And on the eighth day of previews, God saw the Hell House, and He saw that it was good. Damned good. — David Cote

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