By Fern Siegel (Posted Dec. 20, 2024)

Cult of Love is appropriately named. The cult is religion— and “love” translates as control.

The searing holiday family drama, now on Broadway at the Hayes Theater, begins with a loud, overly long Christmas song. But the gaiety feels forced; the siblings participate in a childhood ritual that will explode in a cacophony of pain and sorrow.

Cult of Love is a cautionary tale — the danger of obsession, or how the Dahl parents’ use of Christianity as a cudgel has maimed their offspring. Jesus is invoked to avoid parental or personal responsibility. It’s as if belief is enough, rather than facing the challenges life presents in mature, thoughtful ways.

Yet to playwright Leslye Headland’s credit, she’s produced a work that’s multilayered: funny, pointed and sad. It’s a perfect example of toxicity disguised as holiday cheer. And it’s staged by an excellent ensemble cast that delivers the goods.

Each Christmas Eve, the Dahl children assemble at their parents’ Connecticut farmhouse. But problems quickly surface and the harmony they achieve in singing is a counterpoint to the disharmony they provoke as a family. Resentment, like the lamb, is best served hot.

And each sibling comes bearing issues.

Evie Dahl (Rebecca Henderson) married to Pippa (Roberta Colindrez), is angry because her youngest sister (Shailene Woodley) and Episcopal priest husband (Christopher Lowell) object to their lifestyle.

Mark (Zachary Quinto) had studied to be a priest, but became a lawyer and married Rachel (Molly Bernard), who converted from Judaism. Rachel regrets her decision and the hold Mark’s family, particularly his mother (Mare Winningham) has over him.

Finally, Johnny (Christopher Sears), the favorite son and recently recovering heroin addict, arrives with his sponsee (Barbie Ferreira) in tow. Throw the father’s (David Rasche) never acknowledged Alzheimer’s into the mix and what could possibly go wrong?

Cult of Love is a feast of anger, denial and resentment, but often, thanks to Rachel, presented with a wisecracking twist. Bernard is especially adept at conveying emotion via expression. This is a prickly 105-minute drama designed by John Lee Beatty, with lighting by Heather Gilbert. There’s even snow flurries falling outside through the windows. It’s what lies beneath the picture-perfect setting that intrigues.

Headland notes how childhood imprints adult life in lethal ways. Cult of Love, tightly directed by Trip Cullman, would be stronger with less songs, but it delivers a knockout punch and realistic end: There is no escape for those trapped in their own delusions.