Christopher Seepersad, Jhasan Dhaniram, Pranav Persad-Maharaj, Gabriel Rahman & Syre Hutton in ALPHA | Photo by Kajay Ramkarran
Presented by Naparima College Drama Club
The Naprima College Drama Club has travelled a great distance to bring this innovative production to Toronto Fringe audiences.
Set in a prestigious boys school in Trinidad and Tobago, ALPHA sees five classmates try to understand the crime committed by a fellow student, Alpha. In his absence, we learn early on that he’s been arrested for rape. His name is obviously weighty and, like the audience, the boys project so much into him. As they try to come to terms with this awful thing he’s done, they examine their own masculinity and social pressures—both internal and external.
So much of the play, inspired by Zeno Obi Constance’s “The Ritual,” is actually rather upbeat. We almost forget the sexual assault around which the story revolves as we’re caught up in the boys’ current dynamic, which is playful and supportive. Each takes on a variety of roles to playact scenes of Alpha with his peers and family as they speculate about the circumstances that could have lead to his crime—the specific notes of which are drawn from their own experiences.
The front row of the theatre is devoted to several boys providing a live, percussive score. Their accompaniment is especially rousing as it drives the transitions from the classroom to the boys shared imagination. The main cast (Gabriel Rahman, Syre Hutton, Pranav Persad-Maharaj, Christopher Seepersad and Jhasan Dhaniram) are energetic and natural, with a solid supporting chorus (Devaj Ramoutar, Ethan Rambharose and Njisane Deonarinesingh). We get fragments of truth through speculative invention as they re-enact Alpha’s experience of his parents’ dysfunction, scholastic expectations and toxic attitudes toward women, all of which lay fertile ground for warped masculinity.
The highly stylized production, directed by Jeanelle L. Archer-Chan, is dynamic, well paced and often exhilarating. There is visual intrigue in how these boys interact with each other that invites us to scrutinize them. The desks, as the boys navigate around and over them, never seem cumbersome. One highlight is an exceptionally well executed scene where Alpha is tripping out on drugs in real time while seductive girls (portrayed by the boys as sexualized abstractions) undulate around him in slow motion. Triston Wallace’s movement makes this sequence quite hypnotic, each player a unique presence, fully integrated.
The Kalinda ritual, choreographed by Simeon Moodoo, is another thrilling sequence. In this Afro-Trinidadian stickfighting martial art, the boys brandish their school uniform ties held taught as weapons, with percussive instrumentation providing a propulsive soundscape. As contentious as the term Alpha is, the whole premise of mapping such animal hierarchies onto human behaviour is proven nonsense, the boys imagine an idealized Alpha as constructive and empathetic—a builder and protector of community.
The script, written by director Archer-Chan and members of the Naparima College Drama Club, does sometimes get a little didactic, but it is remarkably insightful and evocative given the youth of the collaborators. The compelling performances help sell even the weaker sections. The assault scene in particular unfolds with quickly escalating dread and discomfort. An aspect of the story that most intrigued me was the way these re-enactments, though inherently playful, affect the boys deeply, the emotions of their role-playing taking a very real toll.
While I found it very compelling, ALPHA is, given its subject and perspective, best suited for a youth audience.
