Jesus Hopped the "A" Train

Reviewed by Michael Lazan

Presented by Ron Kastner, Roy Gabay, and John Gould Rubin at the East 13th Street Theater, 136 E. 13 St., NYC, Nov. 29-Dec. 31.

If you're wondering what Philip Seymour Hoffman is doing directing a play for the LAByrinth Theater Company, you probably don't know enough about the play or the theatre company. "Jesus Hopped the 'A' Train," an incendiary piece of theatre rife with complexity and pulsing energy, is well worth anyone's attention.

The play, written by the 32-year-old Stephen Adly Guirgis, involves two prisoners who sit near each other at a protective custody wing on Riker's Island. Angel, who has just shot the leader of a religious cult, gloomily awaits the results of his trial, all the while insisting to himself that the shooting was entirely justified because of the cult's negative influence on his friend. Lucius, a serial killer, sits placidly in his cell awaiting a transfer so he can be executed. Most of the scenes involve dueling monologues between the two as they ruminate on such things as the existence of God. All this is interspersed with monologues and interchanges by and with the prison guards, Valdez and D'Amico, and Angel's lawyer, Mary Jane.

Since the story, largely focusing on the trial, comes out mostly in monologues by the lawyer, you might think some of these scenes would lag, but Guirgis gets so thoroughly into the guts of these characters and creates dialogue that is so pitch-perfect you hang on most every word. Helping things, Hoffman has his superb cast interpret the dialogue with the highest degree of energy and emotion possible. John Ortiz, the co-artistic director of the LAByrinth, displays such a purpled face of agony as Angel that it eventually becomes heart wrenching to watch him. As Lucius, the articulate serial killer, Ron Cephas Jones smartly underplays the anger and, ultimately, becomes somewhat sympathetic. And David Zayas displays an undeniably fearsome presence as the more than no-nonsense prison guard, Valdez. Framing it beautifully is Narelle Sissons' attractive and restrained set, basically a pair of open cages and a chair for the guard to sit ominously atop the proceedings.