Show and Tell Post #3- Jesus Hopped the 'A' Train

One of the best plays I’ve ever read is Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train by Stephen Adly Guirgis. It was published in the year 2000 and has been produced in venues such as Center Stage (NY), East 13th Street Theatre (NY), and various other locations around the country. The first production was directed by the famous actor/director Philip Seymour Hoffman and it received lots of positive reviews. I want to say that the play can be found in our theatre library because I believe that’s where I got my copy from, but I’m not certain; it may have been Middleton. Regardless, one of the libraries should have a copy of the play. You can also find a copy of the piece at the following link . The play tells the story of Angel Cruz, a Latino man sent to prison for murdering a reverend who he believed was a colt leader. His layer/defense attorney, Mary Jane Hanrahan, doesn’t believe her client is worth the trouble and Angel does not want to be there, so they butt heads from the start. Due to the daily violence and hate thrown upon him, Angel gets sent to Riker’s Island sort of for protection, but what he gets is anything but. The island is isolated from society; if anything, its solitaire. Angel is allowed an hour outside on the roof every day and here he meets Lucius Jenkins. Jenkins is a black man on death row for multiple murders a.k.a. he’s a serial killer, but he’s converted. He’s one of those guys that’s found the light of God and changed, you know? Well, the two interact by sharing a smoke and from then on it’s history. Things are smooth sailing at first, just casual talk, but later shit gets personal. The two argue about God, faith and beliefs every day; Cruz thinks Jenkins is an idiot wasting his time but Lucius is set on saving the young man before it’s too late. The truth is revealed in all senses of the word throughout their interactions and over the days both men come to realize that they need each other. Unfortunately, by that time it is too late and Jenkins is sent off to Florida to be executed. Meanwhile, Mary Jane believes that her client is innocent and in the next trial she nearly gets him off the hook, until Cruz opens his mouth and screws everything up. There are a lot of critical choices that stick out in this play, one of which is Angel’s feelings on God. Quite frankly, he doesn’t believe in him and doesn’t believe he even exists, which is partially why he’s in prison. The man he killed (Reverend Kim) was a crooked man who brained wash his friend and basically turned him into a salve, that’s why Angel shot him. He wasn’t trying to kill the man; he actually shot him in the ass but the doctors screwed the operation up and Cruz was sort of the scapegoat. Cruz doesn’t believe there’s a God because God wouldn’t let this happen to him, God wouldn’t let that man con people out of their lives and God definitely would be there when he needed him. Ironically, he still prays and that’s actually what keeps him locked up- the little bit of prayer he has left. Another choice is the staging. I’d say %80 of the piece takes place in the two cages for each inmate on the roof. That’s really strange to do, I mean, how would you stage that? I’ve seen productions on YouTube that have the men on separate wooden platforms facing each other and others with cages surrounding the actors. When I presented this scene for directing, I used the mats and boxes to make that claustrophobic feel, but that’s a different story. Another key choice is what Guirgis decides to put on stage and what he just refers too, like the fact that Angel probably got raped before he was moved or that Valdez (guard) more than likely abuses his power and beats on Jenkins because he thinks he’s the scum of the Earth or Jenkins being executed. None of these are portrayed on stage, but we can assume they’ve happened. Duration also plays a huge role in the piece. Most of the play is dialogue, so when certain things are done or specific actions are made, they may get more stage time than others because everything is so locked in.