One of the most polarizing tabloid figures of the late 20th century, Tammy Faye Bakker was an overly made-up, squeaky-voiced televangelist, who — along with her husband, pastor Jim Bakker — reached millions of believers with her heavenly pronouncements on The PTL (Praise the Lord) Club, a TV program that began in 1974. Tammy Faye’s style and demeanor could feel gratingly kitschy, but she was also kind of adorable and bravely showed genuine sensitivity in dealing with AIDS on the show in the mid-’80s, when that topic was far from ready for prime time. When Jim was busted on fraud and conspiracy counts, in 1989, the scandal made Tammy Faye seem a bit sleazier-than-thou. But she professed utter innocence, so fans were able to hold on to the idea that their mascara-wanded icon had been as swindled as the viewers.
The 2021 film The Eyes of Tammy Faye erred on the side of making Minnesota-born Tammy Faye utterly lovable, which gave Jessica Chastain a chance to throw herself into the character’s teary vulnerabilities and win an Oscar. The new London-to-Broadway musical Tammy Faye — with music by Elton John, lyrics by Jake Shears (of Scissor Sisters), and book by James Graham — is even more yay-Tammy-Faye, presenting her as an ambitious but grounded Christian who believes in promoting the positive messages of the Bible, and whose greatest fault is a taste for the high life she ostentatiously feels she’s earned. What’s more, Katie Brayben, a marvel in the title role, doesn’t play up the woman’s affectations — her voice doesn’t even screech — so her Tammy Faye comes off like an intelligent, principled person, not the Hee Haw-esque caricature a lot of us remember. I guess everyone’s decided that the full story of televangelism might be too rough on an audience, so Tammy Faye has emerged as an unblemished heroine, though Brayben imbues her with soul and grit and belts her songs with such skill that her persuasive performance becomes a brilliant star turn.
Tammy Faye drives home her point that there are way more references to “love” than “hate” in the Bible.
Act One is like a giddy pop-opera-slash-variety-show, starting with a colon cancer exam for Tammy Faye — they had me right there — and zooming into flashback mode via a litany of songs, as Tammy Faye and Jim (double-Tony-winner Christian Borle) hit it off with her sunniness and his puppets. (“We put the fun into Christian fun…damentalism” exclaims dopey Jim.) A raucous Ted Turner (Andy Taylor) succumbs to the duo’s possibilities and gives them a whole network (PTL), where heart-on-her-sleeve chatterbox Tammy Faye quickly becomes the most popular feature. She brands The PTL Club as a chirpy talk show, complete with segments on recipes and “solutions to erectile dysfunction,” in addition to invigorating attempts to raise up the hopeless. (“All of you just look out your windows, just feel that sunshine on your face. That’s God putting little kisses all over you, mwah mwah mwah.”)
Jim has aspiring president Ronald Reagan as a guest, the politician promoting Jesus’s love of free markets, free trade, and freedom in general. But more potently, Tammy Faye brings on a gay pastor who is suffering from the ravages of AIDS (Charl Brown, effectively sincere). “I realized God had not given me this disease,” says the pastor, sending shock waves to the home audience. “He was with me, against this disease!” On learning that the guy has become a pariah because of his affliction, Tammy Faye makes a point of getting up and giving him a big ol’ hug on camera, to drive home her point that there are way more references to “love” than “hate” in the Bible.
But the PTL lovefest is as doomed as Lot’s wife. Brewing in the background are less-loving evangelicals, particularly Jerry Falwell (another two-time Tony winner, Michael Cerveris), oozing sleaze while manipulating to seize control of PTL. (“I’ll return this failing nation / Back to its true foundation,” sings the sanctimonious, power-mad zealot.)
In comes fetching church secretary Jessica Hahn, with whom Jim Bakker engaged in a not-very-Christian clutch — mwah mwah mwah — paying her hush money via PTL funds. Meanwhile, Falwell dredges up Bakker’s gay background, as the appalled PTL audience drops to their knees in horror. Add in the financial malfeasance, whereby the ministry benefitted the Bakkers way more than God’s forgotten poor folk, and Jim Bakker suddenly had a lot of ’splaining to do.
Ruined — and wearing cheaper-looking furs — Tammy Faye holds onto her faith, taking center stage to musically warn, “If you came to see me cry / You might as well go home tonight / ’Cause my tears have all gone dry / And it’s bringing back my sight.” Brayben sells the song like the 11 o’clock number God obviously meant it to be.
Throughout, Sir Elton’s music reveals flashes of his traditional lilt, and Shear’s lyrics are smart, though they generally capture mood and character more than they advance the plot. Near the finish line, the show doesn’t know how to end — there’s a jail visit, then the doctor’s office again, followed by a stop in purgatory; along the way there’s even talk of the Betty Ford Clinic. (Tammy Faye had become as dependent on prescription drugs as on eyebrow pencils.) The creators make the mawkish mistake of bringing back the AIDS guy, so Tammy Faye can hug him again. But the show’s effervescent spirit keeps it all chugging along, abetted by Bunny Christie’s set, a tic-tac-toe-ish board of rectangles that are ingeniously used as TV screens as well as cubicles for actors (and puppets) to pop up in and emote from.
Directed by Rupert Goold (Ink, Patriots), this show is a guilty pleasure awash in a colorful struggle between good and evil. As fun as it is, the musical might seem quaint to anyone who’s come of age in an era where Donald Trump is the hero of the Evangelists, despite being an adjudicated rapist, adulterer, and fraudster. Tammy Faye is a healthy reminder that back in the good old days, scandals could actually harm you. ❖
Tammy Faye
Palace Theatre
160 West 47th Street
Michael Musto has written for the Voice since 1984, best known for his outspoken column “La Dolce Musto.” He has penned four books and is streaming in docs on Netflix, Hulu, Vice, and Showtime.