This thesis is a reflective piece delving into my process for editing and directing The Rogue’s Trial by Ariano Suassuna. My work with this classic Brazilian play serves as a case study as I reflect on my journey as a director invested in the transformative power of our stories.I am a storyteller, and I am Brazilian. I grew up nurtured by my grandma's tales about her indigenous father. I also grew up getting blessed by old ladies with herbs, benzedeiras (healers), and eating pirão while also removed from any physical connection to my grandma’s ancestral homelands. All I have are the oral stories, the taste of her food, and a stubborn belief that no matter how many times they cut the tree, remove the tree, the land has memory, and the roots find their way back into the soil.
As I have come to understand, our stories are not just narratives but acts of resistance, survival, and permanence. The irony of the ephemeral being what makes it all continuous is a concept that never ceases to fascinate me. Oral stories have kept ancestral knowledge alive for millennia; this tradition I’ve inherited, and it is my job to work on the craft. In my thesis production, I set out to merge the tools and techniques I have honed as a director with the ancestral technologies that compose my identity.
The Rogue’s Trial, an Epic story originally written in Portuguese - O Auto da Compadecida, features a playwright who calls himself a clown, critiques the institution of the church, includes a scene of mass murder, and calls out the hypocrisy of those afraid to acknowledge that racism is alive and well. Its unconventional comedia del arte style and folkloric structure boldly juxtapose the grotesque and the sublime, forcing us to confront our reality and embrace the complexity and contradictions of being human. Hypocrisy, religious corruption, and violence were relevant to 1950s Brazil and, sadly, remain strikingly pertinent in 2025 America. The title 'The Rogue's Trial' refers to the protagonist's journey of self-discovery and societal critique, a profoundly flawed protagonist set on a journey that is both a trial and a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. Ah, and it is a comedy!
To me, a play will never feel finished - it is a living thing, like a fire - I will always find more places where the story can get stronger and sharper. Yet, whether I like it or not, there is a moment in the process when the play takes on a life of its own - and that is the beauty of it: it ignites and burns on, like gathering around a fire. Kim Senklip Harvey said it best; she names directors as Fire Igniters and Tenders1. And that speaks to me deeply - we find the spark and gather the sticks to fire it up so that the fire can warm those who choose to join the circle.
I often find myself thinking about the line from the clown;
“I trust that all of you here will profit from the moral lessons of this play and reform your lives. But I’m sure you are already veritable saints, exemplary in virtue and in your love for God and for your neighbor, without wickedness, without meanness, incapable of passing judgment on others or speaking ill of them, generous, without avarice, ideal
employers, model employees, sober, chaste, and long-suffering. It is enough, although it may be little. Music”
Circus music. Exit clown, dancing. 2
This line holds the impossibility of an idealized way of living and the beauty of our striving towards it; to seek the impossible is enough, although it may be little and we might never do it. I will always hold my hunger for directing with the hope of a clown, reaching towards all a story can possibly be, with the love and craft it deserves, knowing there is always more work I can do. As a director, I dedicate my life to getting people to care. To have hope is to resist. To tell stories and to insist on community is to resist. Sure, theatre might not immediately feed those who are hungry. But pretending misery doesn’t exist is part of the problem, so there is something powerful about talking about these things within the community you are in, and as Augusto Boal3 believed, we can maybe ask the right questions to the right people who might actually be able to do something about it. Ultimately, my thesis is a personal and artistic exploration of the role of a director as a storyteller and a catalyst for meaningful dialogue within the community.