The opening scene of the play was a group of friends meeting in the forest with a blowtorch and a branding iron, and branding a circle upon each other’s forearms. Nirvana was blasting while this occurred and the entire experience was extremely high-energy, and for myself very surreal. In my own addiction I came to brand three separate locations of my body: two of these locations were very similar to this opening act, a pact of insanity between friends, promising always to take situations to the next level. The other brand was an insignia of insanity, a total of nine separate brands comprising the design, a ‘Fuck you’ to the Shadow People constantly pestering me. I found this opening act very significant, as a brand upon skin does not go away, my oldest one is nearly ten years old and still shows quite plainly, this runs directly parallel to the scars inflicted upon my psyche by the horrors of addiction, these also still show quite plainly. The things one may do for acceptance among peers may be forgotten by those peers, and it may even be forgotten by the action-taker, but these things will develop the character traits one moves into adulthood with, and such traits will follow one for a very long time, recognized or not.
Geoffrey Simon Brown wrote this play intending it to appeal to a younger audience than would typically feel ‘welcome’ in a theater setting, and such was quite noticeable even before the play began as there was quite loud music playing while the audience flocked in and took their seats, nothing classical however and especially nothing down-tempo. The theater was jumping with hot new pop music and millennial head banging tracks. If I was a younger chap than I am, and if I felt uncomfortable walking into that room, I certainly would feel at home as I took my seat. Geoff’s hustle towards a younger generation of viewers, combined with the particular theme in The Circle, which is the troubles and stresses of young people trying to fit in with their peers and the troubles which such primal desires can cause, also contained a striking latent function, which I believe the cast and crew capitalized beautifully upon. This function was to caution youth against trying too hard to be something one is not and it comes out most prominently in who may be considered the tragic hero of the play Mutt, portrayed in a fashion of perfect execution by Brown. Before Mutt makes his entrance he is spoken of as a deranged ‘psychopath’ who possesses little, if any, concern for the people outside of himself. However as Mutt comes onto the stage and begins to develop his own character, the viewer begins to understand that he is an alienated youth who has been abandoned by his mother and, as a result, has become quite paranoid that the other most important relationships in his life (one with Kit and the other with Ily) are falsehoods waiting to be revealed as well. This leads to a personality which to an outside observer (outside of addiction and abandonment) may seem quite quizzical, but to a more trained eye such personalities are quite common. Mutt is scared he is alone and no one loves him, he is worried the people whom say they love him are liable to revoke their love at any point; and so we see a boy whose actions bespeak hostility, but which reek of a desire to be accepted. In one scene Mutt is attempting to impress the others by drawing straight from a nitrous tank; Ily takes the nitrous tank away from Mutt, scared he will burst his lungs, but Mutt sees this as a slap on the wrist and reacts angrily to Ily shouting at him. He reacts with such vehemence because he is concerned that this action is Ily withdrawing his love, and not wanting to be so emotionally hurt again as happened when his mother let him go, Mutt tries to hurt Ily before Ily can hurt him, a sort of ‘You can’t fire me, I quit!’ moment. Mutt’s underlying desire for affection and acceptance is seen immediately after this, when in the argument Mutt knocks over Ily’s new bong, which shatters across the floor. Mutt begins sweeping the shattered glass together using his forearms, and as he comes to be cut and begins to bleed, he just continues cleaning in this fashion with such disregard for his own safety. This action is an absolutely pivotal moment in which we are able to see Mutt’s true nature in an entirely objective sense. In juxtaposition to “a deranged ‘psychopath’ who possesses little, if any, concern for the people outside of himself” we see an abandoned young boy seeking love and acceptance at any cost, whose concern is for people entirely outside of himself; in fact he doesn’t care about himself at all if he is accepted and loved, as is plain in how he reacts to the broken bong. If this isn’t evidence enough for the viewer, then I would call attention to Mutt’s heart-breaking soliloquy in the final act, as he describes the boys from his past and their treehouse, and their acceptance of him; that was all he ever wanted was to be accepted and loved for the ‘work he contributed’.
The Circle was presented in a very real and direct manner throughout. Things were happening, consequences were arising and the interaction was all undertaken without any drastic use of Asides. In the final act however things become quite abstract as the group buries their dead friend and sits in the rain around his grave. It is asked “What do we do now?” and the reply comes “We should sit here until the tree grows” (a reference to a desire expressed earlier on). I found this so puzzling at first, I was thinking ‘so they will just sit there for the next few decades as a tree begins to sprout?!’ but as I further contemplate the meaning behind this line, I begin to see a more intangible representation of the intent behind the words. Ultimately the message is that addiction leads to bad places, for example it leads to death, but addiction also leads somewhere most wouldn’t think it does: addiction leads to addiction leads to addiction leads to addiction; it’s addiction, that is what addiction means, it is a self-perpetuating coping mechanism. I view this closing line now as not so much something as was said, but something as was done: to cope with the death of Mutt they drank and used and partied, and whenever they sobered up they remembered this terrible thing that had happened, and so they got drunk and high and partied. They would not be free of this cycle of addiction until ‘the tree grows’, or in other words until the soul of their friend is at peace, which ironically will not occur seeing as he died as a social alien, being kicked out of the party and essentially spat upon as he went, while all he needed for peace was acceptance. This raises the question though, of whether or not in death he became accepted by his friends. Did they think ‘he was being such a punk, but he didn’t deserve to die; maybe he wasn’t so bad after all’? Was Mutt accepted in death? If he was does the acceptance carry through the realm of death to put him at peace? Or will his soul rest forever estranged, as does his mortal coil?
I am entirely satisfied with how this fantastic story turned out on stage, and I feel that it is an important thing for young people to see. As a recovering methamphetamine addict I recall all too vividly the absolute uncomfortability of grinching at the Witching Hour, and visiting friends after their disembodied voices had been harassing me all night. It was this very uncomfortability which pushed me out of the life, and sitting in that theater watching the mischiefs of those six young people put me directly back in that uncomfortable existence. I was filled with such anxiety that at one point I was clutching at my thighs and inadvertently turned on my phone in my pocket, which caused a small display of noise from the otherwise struck-silent audience. I’m positive I burnt several times as many calories just sitting in that theater, as I did walking the sixteen blocks from hotel to theater and back again. I look forward to seeing what else Geoff can pull out of his innovative mind and onto a public stage.
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