In the iconography of 2021, the language of spiritual and earthly concepts still often overlap, and despite increasing social secularism in America, one nun can still be terrifying, but two or more nuns are considered to be as unquestioningly adorable as a flock of penguins (this Women-of-Mystery trope can be applied to witches, lesbians and amazons in fiction as well). Put these two precepts together and what you get is a perfect formula for a comedy whose appeal easily transcends sectarian barriers. Did I mention that this one is also a musical, and that it's set in in Philadelphia, home of the "Philly Soul" sound, during the nostalgia-infused Disco era of the 1970s?
Here's the premise of Sister Act: Delores Van Cartier, nee Doris Carter, is a pop-diva wannabe who witnesses her abusive boyfriend/manager killing a rival gangster one night. For her protection preceding the trial date, the police sequester her in a cloistered convent on the verge of being closed by the archdiocese. Dolores's lifestyle clashes with that of her ascetic hostesses until she is assigned the task of directing the choir. Music being a universal language, soon the singing sisters are attracting media attention and hefty donations—along with their fugitive's nefarious pursuers. Does Virtue triumph over Villainy in the end? Is the Pope Catholic?
Baddies Apprehended, Lovers United, Order Restored (both civic and ecclesiastical), Dreams Achieved, Sororal Solidarity Affirmed, Individual Bliss Followed—when you count the happy endings in this classroom-classical plot, you can also add the resurrection of Chicago's landmark Mercury Theater, whose reported demise during the Big Shutdown proved premature. Under the guidance of Reneisha Jenkins and Christopher Chase Carter, an ensemble led by Alexis J. Roston scrambles with unfettered glee and joyful noise over the tiny 1912-vintage stage rendered palatial by a tech team who serve up an array of dazzle as bright and optimistic as the era they represent.
