Cambodian Rock Band

B+

Lauren Yee’s (The Great Leap) residency at Signature Theatre is off to an auspicious start with the New York premiere of this ambitious play with music. The play moves back and forth between 2008 and the 1970s. Neary (Courtney Reed; Aladdin), the American-born daughter of Cambodian refugees, has been in Phnom Penh working alongside her Canadian boyfriend Ted (Moses Villarama; Fast Company) for the tribunal trying to bring long overdue justice to Duch (Francis Jue; Soft Power, Wild Goose Dreams), head of the notorious S21 Prison where thousands were tortured and killed, who had been arrested after 30 years of hiding in plain sight. Neary’s father Chum (Joe Ngo), who had previously shown little interest in her work, suddenly shows up at her hotel unannounced. Before long we learn the reason for his visit and the connection between him and Duch. Back in 1975, Chum and his friends Sothea (Reed) and Leng (Villarama) were members of a rock band, Cyclo, who were recording their first album. Chum put his entire family at risk by postponing their flight from Cambodia a week to finish the album. All the members of the talented cast double as the musicians. The play is interspersed with Cambodian rock numbers from the seventies as well as contemporary numbers by Dengue Fever. It was frustrating that the lyrics were not translated. A Dylan song also plays an important role in the story. The first act, which describes the father-daughter meeting in 2008 and the events of 1975, contains the bulk of the music. The grimmer second act is mostly set in an S21 Prison cell in 1975. During intermission the playwright greeted a large contingent from a Bronx organization for Cambodian refugees and begged the audience to be understanding if the play triggered unexpected behavior from them. The brutality we witness is brief but chilling. The return to the father-daughter story in 2008 seems a bit anticlimactic. While the drama and the music do not always cohere as well as one might like, the concept of combining them mostly works. The production is greatly enhanced by an excellent cast which also includes Abraham Kim and Jane Lui. The inimitable Francis Jue is alway a treat to watch. Takeshi Kata's (Gloria, Office Hour) set efficiently captures both the bustle of Phnom Penh and the bleakness of a prison cell. Linda Cho’s (Grand Horizons) costumes and wigs for Cyclo band members vividly recall the 70s. Chay Yew’s (Mojada, My Mañana Comes) direction is assured. While there are a few rough spots, I admired the overall effort. Running time: two hours 45 minutes including intermission. NOTE; There is a very helpful timeline hidden deep within the Playbill after the cast biographies. I suggest reading it before the play.

Mojada

B+

This season’s mini-trend of reinterpreting classic works continues with this New York premiere by MacArthur Genius award winner Luis Alfaro, whose Oedipus El Rey was a hit at the Public last year. Alfaro has once again superimposed a story about the Latino immigrant experience onto a Greek tragedy, this time Euripides’s Medea. The play originated in Chicago in 2013 and has played in Portland and Los Angeles with revisions en route that changed the location to the city of performance. The current version at The Public Theater is set in Queens’s Corona neighborhood in the backyard of the decrepit house where Medea (Sabina Zuñiga Varela) lives with her lover Jason (Alex Hernandez; Kingdom Come), their 10-year old son Acan (Benjamin Luis McCracken) and Medea’s lifelong family servant Tita (Socorro Santiago; Unfinished Women), who is our narrator and chorus. Medea is a skilled seamstress doing piecework at home because she is too afraid to leave the house. Jason is a construction worker with a Cuban emigre boss Pilar (Ada Maris; Bang Bang Blues) whose primary interest in him is not his work skills. Luisa (Vanessa Aspillaga; Anna in the Tropics), a food cart vendor who fled Puerto Rico with her husband after a hurricane wiped them out, provides comic relief. Jason is eager for Acan to assimilate as rapidly as possible while Medea wants him to honor old ways. There are lengthy flashbacks, for me the strongest parts of the play, that recollect the family’s horrific experiences getting from their Mexican home to New York. If you are familiar with the Medea story, you may find the ways Alfaro foreshadows the climax a bit clumsy. The incorporation of elements of Michoacan folk healing traditions works fairly well. He very skillfully weaves into the story the experience of undocumented immigrants in today’s America. A few references are right out of the headlines. The acting is mostly strong; however, I found the depiction of Pilar a bit unmodulated. I also thought that Hernandez’s portrayal of Jason showed him too thoroughly assimilated. Cynic that I am, I have a hunch he was chosen more for his good looks and physique than his acting chops. Arnulfo Maldonado’s (A Strange Loop) scenic design offers no clue that the location is New York. Haydee Zelibeth’s (Playing Hot) costumes are very effective in establishing character. Mikhail Fiksel’s sound design (We’re Only Alive for a Short Amount of Time) contributes a lot to the production. Director Chay Yew’s (Oedipus El Rey) direction is fluid. Even though the contemporary and ancient elements don’t always fit together seamlessly, the overall effect is very strong. Running time: one hour 45 minutes; no intermission. 

NOTE: The Public Theater has an annoying habit of hiding valuable information pertinent to the production in obscure locations in the Playbill. In this instance, there is a worthwhile article “Immigration & the Perils of the Journey” that is hidden several pages after the list of Public contributors. When you attend the Public, you would do well to give the Playbill a thorough once-over before curtain time.  By the way, “mojada” is a derogatory term corresponding to “wetback.”

My Mañana Comes ****

I had not previously heard of The Playwrights Realm, a theater company “dedicated to serving early-career playwrights” that offers a year-long residency culminating in a full-scale off-Broadway production. On the basis of Elizabeth Irwin’s new play at the Peter Jay Sharp Theater until September 20, I would say they have a sharp eye for talent and a commitment to high production values. Irwin’s workplace drama with comedic overtones presents a vivid slice-of-life about four busboys in an Upper East Side restaurant. Peter (Jason Bowen), a black man with a child, is the senior among them and the only one who takes professional pride in his work. Two busboys are undocumented Mexican immigrants; frugal Jorge (José Joaquin Pérez) left wife and children behind almost four years ago to earn enough money to build them a new home. Spendthrift Pepe (Reza Salazar) is a recently arrived young man who dreams of saving enough to bring his younger brother to New York. The junior busboy Whalid (Brian Quijada), a second-generation Hispanic who lives with his parents and has vague dreams of getting a civil service job, teases Jorge and Pepe mercilessly. We follow the four through their daily rounds at work and learn what pressures in the outside world make their lives difficult. A crisis at work puts each of them to a test of solidarity. I do not generally like the use of monologues, but Irwin has skillfully incorporated them here. The actors are all very good, particularly Bowen and Pérez. Chay Yew’s direction is seamless. The set design by Wilson Chin is worth arriving a few minutes early just to admire; he captures the details of a working kitchen right down to the scrapes on the walls. Moria Sine Clinton’s costumes are excellent. The play illustrates the personal dimension of large social issues, including immigration policy, race relations, exploitation of the vulnerable, the corrosive effects of poverty. Irwin shows a lot of talent and I look forward to seeing what she does next. Running time 1 hour 40 minutes; no intermission.

NOTE: The Peter Jay Sharp Theater (the smaller upstairs theater at Playwrights Horizons) has less than ideal seating. The seats are directly behind each other rather than staggered and have no padding on the seat backs. If you have back problems, bring a cushion.

QUESTION: Why would a character who is identified as Hispanic be named Whalid, a name I have always thought was of Arabic origin? Ideas, anyone?