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"Lydia" Brings Lyrical Language to a Family's Dysfunction
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Stephanie Beatriz (left) and Onahoua Rodriguez (right) in "Lydia." Photo by Craig Schwartz.
Dysfunctional families are more interesting than the Cleavers, but Octavio Solis' "Lydia" has a poetic imagery that slowly transforms from dreams into nightmares as the mysteries are revealed and under the direction of Juliette Carrillo with the charismatic Onahoua Rodriguez as Ceci, the language has a lyrical, almost musical quality to this production at the Mark Taper Forum.
The main character is not Lydia (Stephanie Beatriz) as the title suggests. The play revolves around Ceci (Rodriguez) and Lydia has come to take care of her. Lydia acts as a catalyst who opens the closet until the dark family secrets are revealed.
At first, we meet the long-frizzy haired Ceci. Standing in the spotlight, she is beautiful, lithe and has the kind of enthusiasm that knows no boundaries. She tells us she dreams of flying. Yet when the lights open up to reveal a much lived in living room with a bare mattress down stage with the awkwardly prone figure of Ceci on it, we soon learn that this is her mind speaking freely. Ceci is currently imprisoned by her body, unintelligible, unable to move without assistance in the tragic aftermath of an accident.
Her younger brother, Misha (Carlo Alban) is the dutiful brother. His short curly hair frame his nerdy thick framed glasses. He studies, but he's also troubled by the young man's curse--wet dreams. His older brother, Rene (Tony Sancho), is troubled; his current hobby is cruising the streets of El Paso, Texas looking for gay men to literally bash in the head--with a baseball bat. This is the early 1970s, before Rock Hudson's death in 1985 and before Magic Johnson's 1991 HIV announcement.
Their father, Claudio (Daniel Zacapa), sits in front of the TV with headphone on listening to ranchero music and ignoring all his children. The mother, Rosa (Catalina Maynard), knows everything that goes on, but after caring for Ceci for two years, she needs to get out of the house. She has hired an illegal alien, Lydia (Stephanie Beatriz).
Lydia claims to understand everything that Ceci says. On an especially troubled day when their cousin, Alvaro (Max Arciniega), who has returned from the Vietnam War only to join the INS, shows up in a border patrol uniform, Lydia dresses Ceci up in her beautiful white quinceañera dress, dredging up the guilt of Alvaro, Rene and Claudio. Lydia also knows what men want, stirring up trouble with both Claudio and then Misha.
The play begins with common dream imagery, flying, and then turns into a mystery. Just what happened to Ceci. Why do Claudio, Alvaro and Rene feel guilty? Then slowly feeling of flying changes from a metaphor for freedom and growth to one of spiritual imprisonment and tragedy.
There were some things that mystified me and seem almost unnecessary such as two sexual situations that were more of a distraction to the plot--sour notes in this beautiful symphony of words and images. Yet this is a minor point. This is a wonderful journey through our idioma, a mixing of Spanish and English that should be especially easy to appreciate in Southern California as in Texas (this play was originally commissioned, workshopped and produced at the Denver Center Theatre Company) and in California's current political climate, certainly topical.
"Lydia," Mark Taper Forum,135 N. Grand Ave., Downtown Los Angeles. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 2:30 p.m.; Sundays, 1 and 6:30 p.m. Ends May 17.
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