American Mariachi (review)

 Spoilers Ahoy!

A friend and I passed through Hollywood and saw a high school named "Bernstein" which given its location must surely have a large number of its students hispanic (this whole area used to be part of Mexico after all).  The high school's mascot was visible from the highway--a chinese dragon.

I cannot imagine anything more American.

American Mariachi by José Cruz González now playing at LATC downtown gave me the same feeling.  This was a story I knew nothing about, not just in terms of the individual characters, but what was happening amid the 1970s with men, women, and Mariachi.  In fact, I hardly knew what Mariachi was.

I know a lot more now, which probably creates the wrong impression.  Here is no somber examination of changing gender roles in the world of music.  Rather it is a heart-felt, delightful, funny, melancholy, as well as exultant revelation.  

Under the direction of José Luis Valenzuela, the ensemble tells a story that seems on one level almost a bit sitcom-esque, yet also tragic.  A broken family consists of father and daughter trying their best to take care of a mother sick, presumably with Alzheimers or something similar.  She isn't "all there" and the fleeting glimpses we get of the past indicates just how vibrantly alive she had been.  One of the few things that can bring her eyes alive and a smile to her lips is music, especially a mysterious song the father will not allow to be played.  

So we are presented with a mystery, and a goal.  What is the story of this song?  And how will the daughter organize a Mariachi to play that music for her, at a time when women were absolutely not allowed to do anything of the kind?

Adding to this lurks the spectre of a memory, of a female mariachi who was the mother's friend when a child, who wanders unseen save by a very few amid ghosts of music, of misunderstandings, of regrets--almost a Greek Chorus but not, because she is absolutely and totally Mexican.  Not a commentary to be heard and understood, not even in poetic form.  Rather she is a sensation to be felt, a thrill of hope and sadness to be heard with one's soul.  Uniquely theatrical, never really explained nor needing to be.  

Like the story.  Yes, people learn things (and we the audience do as well), and they say words that need saying.  But the whole show is really about what if feels like to hear the music, to know some semblance of its meaning (I speak barely a word of Spanish--and never once needed to), to experience seeing these people we know create that music.

With some laughs, none very expensive, along the way.

The very fine ensemble consists of Esperanza America, Vaneza Mari Calderon, Alicia Coca, Fidel Gomez, Crissy Guerrero, Ruth Livier, Sal Lopez, Geoffrey Rivas, Elia Saldana, and Yalitza "Yaya" Vasquez-Lopez.  I am so tempted to call the show a rich tapestry, or an immersive ensemble, or a heightened slice of life.  All these are true, but not enough.  Not a sufficient description.  Like all truly good and wonderful theatre, it really should be experienced.

American Mariachi plays Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm, Sundays at 4pm until Sunday June 9, 2024 at the Los Angeles at 514 S. Spring Street, Los Angeles CA 90013 (two blocks from Pershing Square).