From left, Connor Wessels '09, David Calder '08, Lucas Burns '08, Jackie Brunell '10, and others star in The Connection.
David Calder '07 as the disturbed and neurotic Leech after getting his "turn on."
The characters of The Connection are "a little hungry for a little hope." A hope that they pursue in the high that follows their interaction with a "gallant white powder." It is a search to which the audience of Jack Gelber's play is granted intimate, and often disturbing, access.
First performed in 1959, The Connection tears through theatrical and societal boundaries while it examines a dysfunctional cast of heroin addicts and the effects of placing them in a controlled environment as they await their daily euphoria. This is not a play in which the cast and the audience are deposited neatly in their traditional, very separate, boxes. Rather, at the onset of the production, the producer Jane, actress Namrata Bindra '10, informs the audience that it is about to take part in an experimental art form that seeks to break down the traditional walls that confine theatre.
Each theatergoer steps into an alternate reality the moment they walk into Trinity's Garmany Hall. Visitors to this reality are confronted by hollow eyed actors roaming anxiously through both the set and the seating area. Once the house lights go down and Jane explains that the audience is about to witness a group of heroin addicts improvising on a script written by author Jaybird (Connor Wessels '09), the transition from the outside world to that of The Connection is begun in earnest. The addicts converse idly for a few moments until Jane returns to the stage to inform them that a crew has arrived to film a documentary of the experience.
The junkies sit in a sparsely furnished apartment belonging to Leech, who acts as their connection to Cowboy, their primary drug dealer. The tension in the apartment is palpable: no one knows where Cowboy is, and there can be no peace until he arrives with their next "turn on." This turn on, a heroin fix, takes on a life of its own. It is an entity that dominates the room with its absence. Without heroin to link them together, the characters in the drama would be scattered; it is their allegiance to the drug that brings them to Leech's apartment. Lucas Burns '08 plays the much sought-after Cowboy, the true "connection" to heroin, with a slight southern twang and an arrogant gait. He explained their connection in terms of the illegality of their addiction, "It's interesting to watch a group of people subjugated to a small apartment because 'they happen to have a vice that's illegal.' The cramped space, the physical discomfort-these are the effects of the drug. But the isolation, the feeling of being separated from the rest of humanity -- these are the effects of the law." The characters' isolation and separation from the outside world, as well as from each other, is manifest throughout the play. The junkies are washed out and crazy-looking, and, even during periods of conversation, each is an island unto themselves -- alone with their craving.
David Calder '07 plays the anxious Leech, and he has mastered his character's neurotic mannerisms. There is no point when Calder drops Leech from his voice or body; he convinces the audience of both the physical and mental reality of his character.
Jennifer Abalajon '10 demonstrates a serious commitment to her first role at Trinity throughout her portrayal of Edie, a failed writer who unravels slowly onstage. "When I first read the play, I was thinking in my head, 'God, how am I going to pull this off? How am I supposed to believably play someone addicted to heroin, prone to violence, and not mentally together?'" Abalajon said, discussing the difficulties involved with the subject matter of the play.
Malcolm Brown '10 plays the role of Sam with a presence that is remarkable; he walks stiltedly around the stage, his tall frame emphasized by his lanky walk. He delivers his monologues like poetry and it is difficult to turn away from him while he stares into the audience. Brown commented that "I found this to be an overwhelming experience, and I just can't wait to perform it again -- and get a hold of the audience's faces when they witness my character in action." The design of the play is certainly conducive to getting a hold of the audience's faces. Yet, that very design bewildered some members of the audience so much during the first act that they left the theater before the second.
Alexandra Lawrence '07, who plays the lonely Sister Salvation, spoke to the difficulty of watching the play; "The musical interludes are harsh, the characters are mean and angry, even to the audience members […] it is not easy to be a part of that dire world for over two hours [...] I think it is less important that people enjoy the show, rather that they find it compelling and meaningful in some way."
Alex Manevitz '09 talked about his positive reaction to the format of the play, "I particularly like the fact that the play seemed to break down the distinctions between cast and crew […] The Connection played with typical notions of how a play is 'supposed' to work. I was happy to see that Trinity's theater and arts world is still pushing boundaries in interesting and unique ways."
The Connection challenges the traditional structure of a play in a manner that blurs the distinctions between more than just cast and audience. It becomes difficult to separate right from wrong, who is moral and who immoral. The drug dealer is charismatic and appealing, while the straight edge producer is exploitive and irritating. One of the most sympathetic characters is the intelligent Sally (Sarah Schoenbeck '09), who reveals a past that blows away the stereotype of a uneducated junkie. Calder articulated the results of that confusion, "The Connection complicates our understanding of true and false, fiction and reality… [but] In confusing truth and falsehood, The Connection actually becomes incredibly real."
The reality that comes out of the confusion is one that presents difficult questions. Who is responsible for the mess onstage? The junkies who depend so heavily on their fix? Their dealer, Cowboy, who provides them with a "turn on?" Or Jaybird, the author who criticizes his hired junkies for failing to stick to the plot he suggested, saying, "Where is the philosophy I put in your mouths?" The producer who sells their story to both audience and a film crew? Or is it society's fault for failing to address the sources of pain that plague this disenfranchised group and then banning their escape from this pain?
Jaybird's befuddled musings reveal the final, confusing modification to the traditional play: "I researched carefully- why'd you change? [...] There's no hero in this play. I wrote a play with four heroes." This conclusion presents the final shock to the audience. Who has ever heard of a play without a hero? Yet another question.
Ultimately: yes, the play has its flaws and at times one wishes to slip out of the theater and back into the Trinity reality. And yes, one walks away with a lot of questions and very few answers, but at least one provoked into thinking instead of skipping off gleefully without a thought.