Stephen
Guirgis is
working through his Catholicism in successfully theatrical ways, and the modern
theatre going is reaping the benefits. In recent years, he has explored faith
and the correctional system in "Jesus Hopped the A Train" and
"Our Lady of 121st Street", placing his characters in the New York
City and the family and church he knows well. In a spare production directed by
Brad Akin,
Chicago's Steep Theatre Company has mounted Guirgis's most recent riff on contemplations
of faith and hope and myth and humanity using figures from biblical mythology.
Selected
elements of the set design and some performances are not as stellar as others,
but the overall effect of this densely packed production is of a focused
contemplation of man's role in the universe, the decision making of Jesus as a
man, and those men who followed him during the final years of his life. As the
title suggests, the person whose choices become the special (but by no means
sole) focus of the play's attention is Judas Iscariot. Whether one knows much
about his story as a follower and ultimate traitor to Jesus is not important in
understanding this exploration of man's search for meaning, the effects of
political oppression, and the roles we all play in each other's condemnation or
redemption. In the end, this story is a human one.
The
action of the play is set primarily in a courtroom, laid out to fit in the
performance space but oddly configured from the audience member's perspective.
Scenic designer Haley Powell has provided attorney's tables stage right, judge's
bench stage left with the witness "box" downstage, nearest the
audience, and the "jury box" upstage center. Such a design pointedly
focuses our attention on the jurors (as proxies for ourselves?), yet creates
the need to struggle to see some action. On the other hand, toying with
audience expectations related to the traditional courtroom layout (i.e. all
eyes on the judge, upstage center) leads to a maintained focus on the juror
decision makers who are drawn from individuals dwelling in Purgatory and the
witnesses, ultimately preparing us nicely for the final speeches. And this
layout does leave a playing space downstage, immediately in front of the
audience, that is easily used for flashbacks and other 'in one' monologue presentations
in this narrow playing space. Sound design by Thomas Dixon is fine and appears to be
nuanced (e.g. with street sounds and sounds during one flash back of kids on a
playground) but was challenged by the thumping base through the walls from the
active bar next door to the Steep Theatre playing space. To their credit, the
actors persevered.
The
performances are in general strong and true. Special mention is earned by our
Jesus (Josh Odor),
Saint Monica (Khanisha Foster), the Bailiff (James Allen), and the two attorneys played
by Julia Siple
and Sergi Bosch.
The Judge performance is uneven, yet has several stellar script-provided
moments, well delivered. In particular, Judge has a terrific moment delivered
like Jack Nicholson's "You can't handle the truth" in the movie
"A Few Good Men": "What the hell does Judas Iscariot have to do
with my truth?". When pressed by Judas Iscariot's defense attorney, this
question animates the play.
The
character of Honeywell (Alex Gillmor), one of the Purgatory inhabitants who people the jury
created by Guirgis for this courtroom showdown, become our real proxy. This
character, this Every Person, is a upright, forthright, ordinary, cap wearing,
beer-drinking guy. It is his monologue to the catatonic Judas and the poised
Jesus that resolves this play: this man in death considers not about the
meaning of life or metaphysical considerations but focuses on concrete and
human images of his beloved wife. This scene is delivered in a straightforward
simple style, with his cap on, beer can in hand, directly to the catatonic
Judas with Jesus staring straight at Judas. At one point a single tear falls
from Jesus' eye to provide a simple, powerful, focused dramatic moment.
Honeywell finally accepts the fact that he is in Purgatory as he comments on
the woman he loved and has left behind. "She was my poem", Honeywell
says. "Her and the kids, but mostly her." Sob.
A
play about passion and faith and the human condition. An initial structural
comparison could be drawn to the movie "Defending Your Life" in which
a man played by Albert Brooks finds himself in Purgatory, forced to actively
defend the positive and embarrassing moments of his life, in courtroom,
defended by Rip Torn (and prosecuted by Lee Grant). That movie, however, is
primarily about this one character confronting that situation. "Last
Days", on the other hand, is constructed with Judas himself mute
throughout the courtroom proceedings (speaking only in flashback scenes),
simply and effectively focusing the action on the reactions of others in his
life, and others who have roles to play in his defense and prosecution. A
stalwart production. An important play.