Jesus Hopped the ‘A' Train

Stephen Adly Guirgis likes to tackle cosmic themes at street level. His characters are cast as salt-of-the-earth average New Yorkers, whether they’re parochial-school graduates reuniting (as in Our Lady of 121st Street) or historical saints (The Last Days of Judas Iscariot). Like both of those plays, ‘A’ Train traffics in religious tenets of faith, redemption and free will; it also takes on such minor matters as the penal system and the death penalty. But while the issues may be bold-faced and underlined, Guirgis doesn’t forget to highlight his characters above all else.

Jesus tells the parallel stories of two Rikers Island inmates. Angel (Cruz) awaits trial for shooting a Sun Myung Moon–like cult leader who “steals people,” including Angel’s best friend. Lucius (Stevens) is a serial killer and former drug addict who’s found God while awaiting extradition and execution. Angel’s case reawakens idealism—shot through with cynicism—in his public defender, and both prisoners clash with a guard whose own jaded outlook takes the form of sadistic abuse.

While he wrestles with weighty questions about shadings of morality and the limits of our legal system, Guirgis manages to temper his didacticism with doubt. His habit of placing ten-dollar words in the mouths of ten-cent mooks seems more ennobling than condescending. He’s assisted in Menendian’s production by the inviting central performances of Cruz and Stevens, who wring complex combinations of humor and pathos from impossible situations. There are no easy answers here, but the questions are well considered.