‘Chicken & Biscuits’ Serves Up Big Laughs at the Springer Opera House

A Funeral, A Family, and No Filter

By Jhai James
Contributor

It can be argued that Southern culture is the cornerstone of civilization, and families are the backbone of its society. Southerners have perfected the art of emotional warfare. (“Bless your heart,” anyone?) Food equals love and fellowship. And church is more than an expression of faith. Combine those traditions with a family that puts the fun in dysfunction, and you’ve got the premise for the stage play Chicken & Biscuits, opening April 17 at the Springer Opera House.

Set in the sanctuary of a church during a funeral, Chicken & Biscuits begins with the passing of Reverend Bernard Jenkins, a beloved family patriarch. Although the play takes place in New Haven, Connecticut, there’s no mistaking that Rev. Jenkins’ family is deeply rooted in Southern culture and traditions.

What should be a dignified homegoing quickly becomes something else. Relatives arrive with baggage, sibling rivalries rise to the surface, and secrets spill faster than you can say sweet tea. For audiences with shared experiences below the Mason-Dixon line, the setting will feel instantly recognizable. The sanctuary is more than a backdrop. It shapes every onstage moment.

“In the South, church isn’t just something you attend. It’s where life happens,” says Springer Artistic Director and director Keith McCoy. “It’s where you celebrate, where you grieve, where you reconnect. This play captures all of that.”

Identification is immediate: church aunties with their fans and knowing side-eyes, a choir that could raise the roof, and the unspoken rules about who sits where. Even if you didn’t grow up in this exact tradition, you’ll recognize the dynamics.

McCoy points out that the play doesn’t exaggerate for effect. “You don’t have to be from this exact family to recognize these people,” he says. “Everybody has an uncle who says too much. Or a cousin who is just extra. Everybody knows someone who brings drama into a room without even trying.”

That sense of realness is what makes the humor work. The laughter comes not just from punchlines, but from the feeling that you’ve seen this before, maybe even at last Sunday’s gathering.

At the center of Chicken & Biscuits is a family doing their best. They don’t always succeed. Baneatta and Beverly, daughters of the late Rev. Jenkins, are definitely not succeeding. The funeral offers an opportunity to mend a long-standing rift, but surprises challenge their notions of family and any attempt at unity.

“If you think your family is complicated, just wait,” McCoy says with a laugh.

There’s a unique kind of chaos that happens when family members who have avoided each other for years are suddenly forced into close contact, and the play leans into that beautifully. Conversations that start politely veer off course. Small comments carry heavy meaning. The line between love and frustration gets thinner by the minute.

“There’s something about siblings,” McCoy says. “They know exactly how to push each other’s buttons, because they installed them.”

The humor is quick and layered. Beneath the jokes are questions about identity, expectations, and the paths we choose. By the time the play reaches its emotional peak, the audience understands these conflicts have been simmering for years.

Yet for all the depth, Chicken & Biscuits is a comedy, and it delivers. The pacing is fast, the dialogue is sharp, and the situations escalate just enough to keep the audience leaning forward. It’s the kind of show where laughter builds from one comeback to another.

Baneatta and Beverly now have families of their own. Husbands, children, and, of course, secrets waiting to be exposed in ways that remain truthful and entertaining.

“There’s nothing like hearing a whole room laugh together,” McCoy says. “Especially with a show like this. You start to feel like the audience is part of the service.”

But the play doesn’t rely solely on humor. It’s about what happens when people confront the truth about themselves and each other.

“At its core, and despite the humor, this is a story about grace,” McCoy says. “Even when it’s messy. Maybe especially when it’s messy.”

The play explores acceptance and reconciliation without losing its humor. It acknowledges generational differences while making space for difficult conversations. It reminds us that growth often comes from discomfort. By the end, what’s left isn’t just laughter, but the recognition that healing, like family, is rarely simple.

Chicken & Biscuits is the final show in the Springer Opera House 2025–26 season and a natural fit to close out the year. Its blend of humor, heart, and Southern nuance aligns perfectly with the theater’s audience.

“This is the kind of show where you hear someone laugh and think, ‘That’s my aunt,'” McCoy says. “It’s immediate. It’s personal. And it’s a lot of fun.”

As opening night approaches on April 17, Chicken & Biscuits arrives with all the ingredients for a memorable evening: a sharp script, a dynamic cast, and a director who understands the assignment. It invites audiences to laugh loudly, recognize themselves, and maybe reflect a little on the way home.

Because somewhere between the jokes and the joy, there’s an unwritten truth about the people we love. Every family has its quirks. Every gathering has its moments. And sometimes, when people come together, something genuine breaks through.

You can call it chaos. You can call it comedy. Or you can call it exactly what it is.

Family.

Chicken & Biscuits opens April 17 at the Springer Opera House. Tickets are available now in person at the box office, by calling (706) 327-3688, or by visiting springeroperahouse.org.