The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Some characters are reduced to types, especially the vulnerable Lily (beautifully performed by Worthington-Cox nonetheless) and her abusive father, T-Ray (Mark Meadows). There is a honeyed tone to the drama that could be dreadfully schmaltzy but here passes for sweetness. There is an almost delirious momentum to Our Lady of Chains, as the women sing, scream, stomp, slam and knock on wood (choreography by Shelley Maxwell) and the song becomes a form of angry protest and invocation to the Black Madonna’s high authority.

Omonua’s voice has a distinctive clarity and power in songs such as Sign My Name and Tiburon while every other voice is as big, rich or voluptuous. But if this is the case, the narrative also contains the important message that progress needs to happen together: Lily and Rosaleen never let each other down, while the Boatwrights depart from cliche by being highly cultured, powerful, Black women in this era, which feels quietly radical.

The Boatwrights are arguably mobilised around saving Lily – the drama’s only white woman. Lily’s story – of her mother and her romance with Zachary (Noah Thomas) – is prioritised while Rosaleen melts into the background. The story of struggle and trauma is accompanied by Black joy and strength which, in this adaptation, bypasses a tragedy towards the end of the original novel. The sisters’ home is also their church, with its own Black Madonna. The production is drenched in dewy rays of light (design by Neil Austin) for the duration, conjuring an otherworldliness that bears shades of Toni Morrison’s magical realism. Indomitable … Rachel John in The Secret Life of Bees.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd