The Ghosts of Lote Bravo at The Unicorn

There are plays that are moving, there are plays that are beautiful. There are plays that are fresh and exciting, and plays that are important.

The Ghosts of Lote Bravo is important.

As La Santa Muerte (Meredith Wolfe) whispers, "I do not judge, I listen," so do we, as the audience, listen and watch without judgement. Who are we to judge if a mother (Vanessa Davis) feels responsible for pushing her daughter to do whatever it took to earn money instead of starving? Who are we to judge a young man (Justin Barron) who sees no options, so he murders instead? Who are we to judge a young woman with the heart of a bull, (Rebecca Muñoz) who will do anything to get a earn her place?

It is beautifully crafted. The play is wrapped around the story of Juanda Cantu losing her daughter, reminiscent for me of the desaparecidos of Argentina. Young women, taken and left for dead, are too frequent in Ciudad Juárez, and we are shown the small steps and decisions that lead to such a disappearance. Life is simply an endurance, and a virginal Saint will not be of help in such dark times. La Santa Muerte, who requires a sacrifice of truth and tequila, is a masterful ally in dark times.

This work should not be missed as the rolling world premiere. My hope is that it will join the lexicon of American works. It is an important story.

Cock - The Unicorn Theatre (the play that must not be named)

This play is hard to explain. (Pun intended). Basically, John has a long term boyfriend, M, and goes out with a woman, W. John is confused about his feelings and sexuality. And M's dad, F, puts in his two cents which doesn't help. All played out without props, just a set laid out like a boxing ring and four actors. 

90 minutes. No intermission. A ding of a bell signaling the next movement. Actors spitting on each other but never touching at all. Circling. Everyone in gray but the love interest in red like a red flag at a bull fight. Amazing. Dizzying. 

The writing in this is like being dropped in the middle of a conversation where you want to interject by yelling at everyone involved. It's beyond snappy. Everyone was brilliant, but Zachary Andrews (M) was something incandescent. He had to be somewhat of a bastard, but likable at the same time. He had to be angry but testy, fed up but not willing to stop. Everything circled around him, and if that actor hadn't been magnificent, this show wouldn't have worked. Everything plays to him. 

John, played by Jacob Aaron Cullum, is written as milk toast, as someone with no spine and no direction. That is difficult to play as an actor without coming across as low energy. It took a while to catch what was happening, and then I saw John with (W) Molly Denninghoff. John was himself. But sweet. Communicative. With new mannerisms but the same confused core. It's easy to downplay Jacob's brilliance in light of Zachary but he did exactly what he needed to do. We hate John because he won't make up his mind. His silence is infuriating. 

The end scene, the farce-like dinner party, is so brilliant. It's written well, and the fight between (F), Matthew Rapport, and (W) Molly Denninghoff is controlled and then on fire. 

The whole show is angry, seething, a bit of sweet, but quite a ride. Not for the faint of heart. Well done.