---

This play premiered in NY with Philip Seymour Hoffman directing. The following “experience” is not about that production. PSH did not direct this production, nor was he here in Chicago when I saw it. But I was so moved by this play, I had to write about it anyway. So if you wanted to read about PSH, move on to the next review, but if you want to read about a really excellent play, read on…

Lately, I’ve been seeing some really incredible work…including Rebecca Gilman’s “Glory of Living,” and now Stephen Adly Guirgis’s “Jesus Hopped the A-Train.” I think I’m getting spoiled when it comes to dramatic theater. I’m starting to expect this caliber of performance when I see other plays, and sometimes I’m disapppointed. The acting in this play, similar to Rebecca Gilman’s, is really loud and passionate, emotional, in-your-face, firey…I like that. A lot. Immediately it grabs my attention by the neck and doesn’t let go until the end, where it just kind of throws me back on the floor or something!

We walked into the garage space (I liked the security metal detectors at the entrance—sort of felt like the real deal; also the ushers were strategically placed on the space watching us file into our seats…they stood there like security guards or something.) There in the middle of the space, right on the floor, was a cage-like setup with a chair in the middle. The set was basically this jail cell (big, metal bars), where the walls could lift up and move out of the way, sort of like curtains, from one act to the next. So different rooms could be created, one cell could turn into two cells in a matter of seconds. Sort of dark. Not a whole lot of color. Just gray and black. Very cool. Very minimalist but you didn’t need more than that. Prison’s like that isn’t it? Just a cell with walls…

The audience seating was separated into three sections…one in the middle facing the front of the set, and one on either side of the set. Furthermore the seating was staggered, so no matter where you sat, you were sort of looking down at the players. There were several monologues in the play, so this arrangement also forced the actors to address all areas of the space, which is also a little more interesting. Also, there was the sound of prison life, guys fighting, yelling, talking, laughing, crying, whatever—in the background. It disappeared during the main dialogue but it felt like it was always there, you know? That gave me a very unsettling feeling, which makes sense to me…I mean, who WOULD feel all comfy and settled in prison?

I was glad that I was sitting in the section that directly faced the jail cell set. In the scene where Lucius and Angel meet for the first time, they’re each in their own cell…separated by a catwalk of sorts. There was a point when Lucius reached through the bars to give Angel a cigarette, and I swear…just at that moment where Angel took the cigarette from Lucius, it totally reminded me of that “Creation of Adam” panel from Michaelangelo’s work in the Sistine Chapel!! My husband laughed at me when I said that, and maybe that’s my imagination running wild, but hey give me a break…I studied art history for four years okay?!! Anyway, I thought that was really beautiful. It especially made sense, since Lucius just finished talking about his love for God, for the divine sunlight and all the hope it held for him, etc. And here was this young kid, Angel, sort of brand new in this world behind bars.

The story was so thoughtful and perceptive. I guess I was just fascinated by the whole argument of whether or not it’s worth it to believe in God;, whether or not we’ll really be saved in light of the things we’ve done. Do we have the right to believe that we’re saved, even after committing some really terrible acts? Do we actually believe that we’re saved? And then there’s the whole question of the act itself, to what degree do we draw the line between forgiveness and punishment? If a man shoots a guy in the ass, and the victim dies due to surgical complications, does that make him less guilty than a man who brutally murdered 8 people? These were some of the questions that the play asked, and I think today especially, it’s appropriate to ask them.

It was a small cast: The lead, Angel Cruz (Eric Aviles), was totally excellent, and Lucius Jenkins (E. Milton Wheeler) was brilliant…both of these guys were so animated and so exciting to watch. They were terrific! Then there were the two prison guards (Ricardo Gutierrez and Keith Kupferer), and I thought those guys were awesome too, and then there was the lawyer (Stephanie Childers), who tied it all together. There were a lot of monologues throughout the play and the two guards looked so utterly comfortable talking to us, telling their story, their background. With Valdez especially, a seemingly decent fellow, you could see what his motivations were, in deciding to work for the prison system. Everyone in this play were just filled with conflicting issues and emotions, and that made it all so exciting to watch. I cared so much for every character in this play. Again, I couldn’t judge anyone here, and I love it when that happens! I love plays and films and music and visual art that does that; anything that forces me to question my belief system, anything that forces me to look at something differently. It’s really unsettling, and sometimes upsetting, but usually that’s a good thing.

So…wow. That was an amazing piece of drama. Ron O.J. Parsons directed this production and I thought it was excellent. I’m curious, and I wonder how Philip Seymour Hoffman interpreted it…would it have been a whole lot different? I don’t know…I doubt I’ll ever find out, but that’s okay. I’m glad I saw this one. The Chicago cast was really freaking good too. I think they acted circles around most of the people I’ve seen around here lately. My husband and I were both speechless after that performance. I’ve been telling my friends to see this while they can. It’s only $10! Now that seems criminal!

-- Lee

---

[Main | News | Bio | Filmography | Pictures | Links | Reviews | Misc. | Articles | FAQ]

This page last updated July 21, 2002