By Rebecca Russell

I clearly remember learning in my journalism classes that it is not good practice to write stories in first person. We talked about how to conduct interviews and how to write stories from them. But nowhere along the line did they tell me what to do when the first thing a subject does is to yell at me.

Yet that’s exactly what Mary McHale did. She yelled at me. I was sitting in the second row of bleachers in the Theater Tent at the recently concluded Milwaukee Irish Fest, waiting for the start of Sister Bernie’s Bingo Bash, calmly writing notes like, "The audience seems almost apprehensive of what’s coming, filling in the back rows first," and, "When you walk in, they hand you a program, a green ticket and a bingo card. Makes me wonder what I’m getting into."

I was startled out of finishing that thought by the sudden arrival of Mary McHale, already in character as Sister Bernie. Hands on habit-clad hips, her lips pursed and eyes flashing, she pointed to the woman in front of me who was struggling to open a folding chair and shouted, "Can’t you see she needs help? Put that stuff down and help her!"

The people around me laughed nervously as I set down my notebook and, blushing redder than my hair, assisted the woman in front of me with her chair. I was so surprised and embarrassed that I suspect she would have been better off without my help. Upon finishing that task and feeling duly chastised, I sat down and mentally noted (not on paper, lest I get yelled at again), "So this is what they mean by, ‘An Interactive Comedy.’" 

And this show definitely was both interactive and a comedy. Sister Bernie stalked grimly through the audience as Fr. Chuck called the numbers. Anyone not keeping up was singled out by Sister Bernie. One gentleman was even moved front and center by the nun so he could better see the board. 

Finally, after Fr. Chuck called out, "G-54. That’s Galilee 54," in a voice a game show announcer would envy, an audience member yelled Bingo. He was presented with a prize that represented one of the seven virtues, because each game played represents one of the seven deadly sins. The sin is chosen by the Spin O’ Sin, a glittery, bedazzled wheel that Sister Bernie describes as, "looking like a prom garter." 

After a second game was played and won, we were told to take out our green tickets. Fr. Chuck declared, much to Sister Bernie’s chagrin, that the matching ticket would receive the proceeds from the ticket sale. A very excited young boy was handed a paper bag full of change and dollar bills. Much to the dismay of the audience, that was the end of the show. As the audience filed out, a loud buzz of conversation filled the tent. I heard words like, "hilarious," "amazing," and "wonderful." Couples discussed catching the show again later on that evening.

With all of the enthusiastic chatter about this terrific show, it’s hard to believe it was never meant to actually be a long-running show. "It was a filler," theater owner, co-writer, and actress Mary McHale told me. "It was meant to fill 45 minutes on New Year’s Eve."

That was nearly three years ago. After getting inundated with calls for tickets to That Bingo Show, McHale realized that maybe she was on to something. She sat down with fellow actor Susan Gaspar and together they wrote the show’s script. It’s a script that changes every night and with each venue. 

It’s also a chance for the actors to give back. Normally, instead of pulling a green ticket to give the money to an individual, Fr. Chuck pulls from the bar the name of a charity. All of the money collected that evening then goes to that organization. "When we perform, we get to give a donation," McHale explained. "It’s part of what it’s about," McHale continued, a smile in her eyes, "Clergy is always about charity." 

The show has also been part of non-profit benefits across the country. "We’ve been everywhere from LA to New York," McHale said. This was their second year performing at Irish Fest. They were invited to be a part of Milwaukee’s festival after one of the organizers saw them perform at Chicago’s Irish Fest. 

See the show see if you get the chance. But sit in the middle, don’t take any notes, and make sure you help out those around you if they need it. Unless of course you want to get yelled at.