Just another day in drama class?

“Close your eyes and open your soul, what you are listening to now each of you will relate to in a different way, depending of the experiences that you’ve had throughout your life.” My drama teacher made us sit on the cold floor of the theater on a cold January day. The snowflakes lazily knocking against the windows reminded us that we were heading home early today and gave us hope to sit through yet another monologue in Drama class.

“We can't strike. Why not? Because it's against the law to strike! The king has declared that everything is a crime. Writing is a crime. Two weeks ago, the police destroyed the Galaty, the worker's newspaper. They smashed the press. They burned over two thousand newspapers but that didn't satisfy the king. Three days ago at a student meeting, a peaceful meeting, soldiers broke it up and arrested two of my friends. Writing, talking, going to class, speaking out is a crime. Being poor is a crime. Being poor is the worst crime of all. And if you commit these crimes, you are condemned for life. Our government has no mercy, no pity, no forgiveness. And there's no work for us. And because there's no work, our children are starving. Tell me: why are we powerless to save the people we love? All of you know. Tell me - why? The king betrayed us. We were promised the vote, do we have it? Do we have the vote? Where is the republic our fathers died for? It's here my brothers. It lives here in our heads. But most of all, best of all, it's here in our hearts. In our hearts - WE ARE THE REPUBLIC!”

As one of my classmates recited the monologue done by Marius in “Les Miserables”, his voice sounded void and empty of feeling for what he was saying. His father was in the army and he grew without ever seeing him, his close experience with war and national pride was minimum. But for me the sound of someone saying writing is a crime sent a flash of rage through my body. Between 1953 and 1957 my great grandfather was the general editor for the newspaper El Tiempo, this was also the time in which the military dictator Rojas Pinilla overtook the presidential palace and declared himself the legitimate president of Colombia. Rojas Pinilla commissioned my great grandfather to write an article about how he was a very good, and grand president which my Great grandfather refused to do, and he had to flee from the country because there was a price set on his life. About 20 years later my grandfather had a bullet wound on his left shoulder because he wrote the truth about the corrupted police forces of Colombia and finally now a days my uncle writes under a pseudo name, hiding from the people who have for years arisen a treat against him.

I think that the way an actor can really relate to the part he is playing is by assuming a role that is relatable to personal experiences.  In the podcast the prisoners that could really relate to the crime committed by the characters in the play because they had also committed a crime. They were bound to live up to their actions just like Hamlet, and that is what makes this a rather exceptional performance, because the actor can really connect with the character.