Todos Somos Marcos (review)

Figure 1.

Arcelia Ramirez is Laura in Vincente Leñero's Todos somos Marcos, directed by Morris Savariego. Photo: Casa del Teatro, Mexico City.

The latest addition to Mexico City’s theatre scene is the tiny (50 seat) Casa del Teatro, located unpresumingly in an unmarked colonial building in the quiet residential neighborhood of Coyoacan. The theatre school is under the direction of Luis de Tavira, one of the most respected directors in contemporary Mexico. As if to match the “clandestine” nature of the unmarked building itself (the theatre was founded over the objections of neighbors who wanted to preserve the colonial quiet of their street), Casa del Teatro debuted in June of 1995 with a cycle of four one-act plays entitled Teatro Clandestino, featuring new work by prominent writers and directors. Outstanding among these was Todos somos Marcos (We All Are Marcos), by Vicente Leñero, the most notable figure of Mexico’s neo-realist political theatre movement of the 1980s. Tavira has also been a prominent part of this movement, often as a producer and/or director of Leñero’s plays.

Todos somos Marcos uses an intense, almost surgical, realism to dissect internal conflict among the Mexican left in the aftermath of the New Year’s 1994 Chiapas rebellion. It takes its title from the slogan of the massive demonstration in Mexico City’s zócalo or main plaza in February, 1995. The demonstration was in response to the government’s “exposure” of guerilla leader Sub-Comandante Marcos’s alleged identity, and featured tens of thousands of protesters marching in black ski masks: a piece of political theatrics which asserted that the movement the Sub-Comandante stood for transcended any given individual.

The play’s scene is a seedy one-room Mexico City apartment; the action is the estrangement and separation of two lovers, Laura (Arcelia Ramírez) and Raúl (Alvaro Guerrero). Laura’s life has been changed by Marcos and Chiapas: she sees him as the only honest person in Mexico, the only figure offering a vision of genuine social justice. Raúl, on the other hand, is less moved by the uprising; he cannot jar himself out of cynical indifference, let alone bring himself to attend demonstrations with Laura. Frustrated and desperate, Raúl sexually assaults Laura, only immediately to beg forgiveness. The brutality of the act finally clarifies for Laura the sort of man with whom she has been living, and how different they are politically. Laura leaves him, and Raúl is left desolate, jealous, full of regret—a lonely man without ideals in a country with few ideals left.

Todos somos Marcos is made particularly effective by Leñero’s device of having the story of the failed relationship dramatized/narrated by Raúl in flashback, to his friend Miguel, who was played with comic flair by Adrian Joskowicz. Miguel actively watches the playing out of the dying relationship, and at times even enters into the scene—propositioning Laura, for example, at one moment when Raúl leaves the room. Miguel’s position as the third angle of this unrealized love triangle underscores Leñero’s positioning of Marcos in the larger love triangle: the rebel leader as hearthrob-idol for idealistic Laura, as threatening rival for cynical Raúl. The banter of the two buddies also underscores the piece’s searing critique of machismo among the Mexican left, where issues of sexism and have readily been marginalized and separated from those related to economic justice.

All three performers shine in their parts, which speaks not only to their talents but to the sensitive direction of Savariego, as well. Additionally, Savariego understands the way the dynamics of the Casa del Teatro’s space suits this particular script, and allows the two to work together. The tiny theatre is located at the back of a courtyard, in a cramped second story loft, accessible only by a creaky, outdoor staircase. The space itself is...