Stewart Lamont

IMAGINE the Marx Brothers had done a biblical epic, or the radio show Round the Horne went religious, then you've got an idea of what the Reduced Shakespeare Company is trying to do with its show which opens at the Royal Lyceum in Edinburgh on Monday and runs

until Friday. The Bible: the Complete Word of God (abridged)

is 100 minutes of slickly performed, witty parody by the same American trio who hilariously condensed Shakespeare's plays and Wagner's operas.

More impish than impious, irreverent rather than blasphem-ous, the show had its premiere in the US in 1995 and since then has been to the American Bible

Belt, Edinburgh's Fringe, and London's West End.

Inevitably it has met with protests, more recently a picket-line at the Theatre Royal in Glasgow. Yet this show is far removed from the vulgar humour of Billy Connelly's Crucifixion skit (the Crucifixion is not dealt with at all in this version). You need to be Bible-literate to appreciate many of the jokes, and the publicist points out that the three writers of the show are Christian believers. It is der-

ivative rather than destructive humour, rather like 1066 and All That or Blackadder which presuppose serious history on which to base their persiflage.

This type of humour is sometimes heavily laden with puns, eg the first mention of motorbikes in the Bible . . . ''David's Triumph sounded throughout the land,'' or Q: what is the difference between ignorance and apathy? A: I don't know and I don't care. The Beatles manage to get a look in, viz, ''We come here now to Jude who wrote the last letter, and also took a sad song and made it better . . . John wrote three and Paul six letters but George and Ringo didn't write any . . .''

The pace and tone of the performance by the three males actors (Martin Croke, Reed Martin, and Austin Tichenor) are really what make this show worth going to. I laughed a lot, despite the fact that I find trendy updates like Godspell a complete turn-off, and abhor cheap tactics which afford second-rate comedians some publicity if they satirise sacred subjects (care-fully choosing countries in which they won't get their heads chopped off for doing so).

The Reduced Shakespeare Company is neither of these but it is slightly brittle about some of the adverse publicity. False accusations (that Christ is portrayed as a Teletubby) or abusive letters and phone calls received by those involved in the show had led them to be careful about defending the show in the media. ''None of us is qualified to enter into a theological debate . . . it is also unfair for the three actors to

have to justify and elaborate on research material for a show they have not written.''

This question of whether sacred texts and doctrines should be the subject of humour is a complex one. Motive must surely play a role in deciding. Affectionate fun is one thing and sneering contempt another, yet both could be derived from the same joke. It's the way that you tell them that counts.

Personal sensibilities also play a large part in whether we find jokes about religion to be amusing. I found the Connelly sketch crude and offensive, but I like The Life of Brian. Godspell I found silly, and Dave Allen's religious sketches deeply un-funny, but I found myself smiling as the trio belted out That's Armageddon to the tune of That's Entertainment. No doubt readers will have different reactions, both pro and anti, to the above examples.

Jokes which rely on shock effect (taboo topics or using rude words) get cheap laughs but they seldom make people feel better about themselves or the world. The comedian who can do that possesses a very special talent. If we were unable to make jokes about the things we fear most or respect most, we would have lost one of the best characteristics of our humanity. The preacher who can use humour is much more likely to be taken seriously than the one who cannot.

One of the criticisms made

of the abridged Bible show has been that its authors would never dare mount a similar show about the Koran. In one sense, they have a point. There would no doubt be a holy row of gigantic proportions, stopping just short of an atom bomb being dropped on the theatre by Pakistan. But we should con-sider carefully whether this is a consequence which we do really admire. Is this an attribute to be envied, that a religion is underpinned by such ferocity and so lacking in humour about the human condition.

It is sometimes said of fundamentalism that it has no fun, too much damn and not enough mentalism. That's a joke - but it doesn't stop it from being true.