It's written in the stars

Quick, read this review of Amerissiah from Time Out New York and imagine what the star rating is (out of five).

Off Broadway is always on the make for saviors, and troupes can earn cults before their miracles pan out. The Amoralists inhabit that tricky space, somewhere between treading and walking on water, in Amerissiah. As in previous Amoralist joints, Derek Ahonen’s play features plenty of extreme emotion, wild-eyed acting, loud screaming and theatrical shock tactics. (Poop-stained rags are thrown out the kitchen window on two separate occasions.) Yet behind all the zaniness is an ultimately serious look at belief and forgiveness, and Ahonen can’t quite keep it all in the same plane.

The troupe’s core regulars—including Matthew Pilieci as a dying man who believes he’s a god, Sarah Lemp as his materialistic sister and James Kautz as her adenoidal ex-husband—give enjoyably broad, glazed-hammy performances; other actors, such as Williams Apps as a reformed junkie and Selene Beretta as his nerve-jangled girlfriend (both excellent), give scarily realistic ones. But the actor playing Margie, Pilieci’s older hippie wife, is simply inadequate; it’s almost as though Ahonen, having written the part with startling malice, wanted to sabotage the character even further. But a play like Amerissiah lives and dies by momentum: The emotions are too high, and writing too pocked with little holes, to let you stop and think about it midway. Both Ahonen’s script and his direction of it are undeniably jagged; to believers (and I am one), that is part of its charm, but also, at times, a test of faith.

Then, go look at the actual review.

Yeah, me neither.

Ah, star ratings!