Strategies

Law and Order

Ex-convicts tell their stories on stage

by Eliza Bent

Challenge
2.3 million people in prison in the U.S.

Plan
Raise awareness by making a play with and about former convicts

Key Players
Reformed prisoners, open-minded audiences

What Worked
Success stories beyond bars

What Didn't
Dealing with bureaucratic red tape

What's Next
Anticipated repeal of the Rockefeller laws

Jiddu Krishnamurti, the Indian philosopher, said, "It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society." Prison has been said to be a reflection of society's failures. If that's the case, America isn't doing so well. The United States leads the world in prison populations, with 2.3 million people incarcerated. There is a disproportionate percentage of people of color in prison. Black men make up the highest percentage (35.4 percent) even though they make up less than 10 percent of the U.S. population. And then there's the economic side of the story. Michigan spends nearly $2 billion on its corrections system. Gov. Jennifer Granholm told the Detroit News, "We spend more money on prisons than we do on higher education, and that has got to change."

How can theatre possibly attempt to address the awful truths of crime and punishment? Enter The Castle, a play conceived and directed by former theatrical press agent David Rothenberg. The play's regal title refers to the New York City residential facility run by the Fortune Society that helps former inmates adjust to life after prison. In this drama vérité, four real-life ex-convicts share their tales of privation, crime, imprisonment and redemption.

"We're trying to put a face on a population of people. The issues are implicit," Rothenberg says over the phone. "I've been involved with this since the inception. I would go to these community meetings every Thursday night at the Fortune Society and got to know some of the residents." (Residents of the Castle use Fortune Society classrooms for sessions devoted to career development and counseling.) "As I got to know them I would arrange for them to see plays. Over time, I learned their stories. So one day I joked, 'You're more interesting than the plays we're seeing!'"

The stories Rothenberg heard are indeed remarkable. For example, Casimiro Torres was once a homeless teen sleeping in Manhattan's old Dollar Movie Theatre. That same location in Midtown Manhattan is now New World Stages—where The Castle plays. "Is that not a story?!" Rothenberg exclaims. Angel Ramos entered prison illiterate, but in his 30 years of incarceration he not only learned to read and write but also developed a passion for Quaker life. His one-year anniversary away from prison also marked his Off-Broadway debut.

"In the year we've been performing, I have watched the four performers be almost transformed by their confidence and pride in participating in such an important and unusual adventure," producer Eric Krebs says. "When they perform, and especially when they speak in the talkbacks that follow each show, they are magnificently poised teacher/professionals." During talkbacks, information about the Fortune Society is distributed to the audience, which has resulted in some generous gifts to the not-for-profit.There are also parterships to make tickets available to young people at risk—for each $10 sponsorship an at-risk adolescent sees The Castle for free. So far more than 1,000 have attended.

"They are our most difficult audiences," Rothenberg says. "They don't have the life experience yet. They can't look back." Nevertheless, he is hopeful that they get the message. "One of the things that has been most striking for me is that every time we perform in a prison, there is an inmate who will recognize one of the actors. One of them recently said to Casimiro, 'Cas, we played handball together at Sing Sing.' That was really something. You see that they are hungry for something else. It suggests hope."

There have, however, been some hurdles. Parole is problematic. "Each time a cast member on parole has to go out of state or stay out past 9 p.m. for a performance or personal appearance, I have to write a letter asking permission from a parole officer," Krebs says. The play performs every Saturday at 5 p.m. at New World Stages and it has toured to six prisons, both city and state.

Despite the play's uplifting message, selling tickets has not been easy. On this score, Rothenberg has a bone to pick with press. "There is such elitism in the media. I should know, having worked as a press agent for many years," Rothenberg laments. "They fall on their face for famous people—but the stories in The Castle are fascinating! Take the opening line, spoken by Cas: 'I came to the Castle with 67 arrests and 16 years in prison.'" Despite touch-and-go ticket sales, the show has been playing for more than a year, and Krebs and Rothenberg both believe there is an off-site market to be tapped, at universities and churches.

New York governor David Paterson and legislators have reached agreement to repeal New York State Rockefeller laws, with their strict penalties for drug possession. Krebs and Rothenberg believe that The Castle has helped keep this issue in the public eye. "A good number of state legislators and judges have been to the show," Krebs says. "To date we have had the New York City and the New York State commissioners of corrections, 200 parole officers, 30 female judges—and one of the community courts is developing a plan to make The Castle required activity in certain juvenile cases."