Mexico City’s Spring 2015 Theatre Season

Mexico City’s theatre world churns on, producing abundant theatre, much of it of the highest quality. For me, the event of the season was a tribute to Emilio Carballido’s short theatre focusing on Mexico’s capital city. After discussing it, I highlight, in alphabetical order, thirteen more of the season’s most outstanding plays.

Several years ago, Microteatro México opened in the Santa María la Ribera neighborhood, not traditionally a hotbed of theatre activity. Formerly a massive, venerable house, its central patio now houses a ticket counter and snack bar, and actors perform plays in thirteen rooms of various sizes (all of them small) spread throughout the structure’s two levels. “Historias de la Ciudad de México” was actually the 14^th set of plays performed in the locale, with a new set of plays roughly every other month. The 13 plays of this event played 6 times a day from Thursday through Sunday over a period of four weeks, so at this theatre alone, during that month, over a thousand performances occurred. This doesn’t even take into account weekend micro-matinees for children. Billed as plays no longer than 15 minutes for audiences of no more than 15 spectators, that was not exactly true in the nine plays I saw, with the longest 21 minutes and biggest crowd 23 extremely cramped spectators. Among the 13 directors were any number of great renown, as well as actors with distinguished stage, television, and movie careers. Not all the plays were brilliant, but many were. It all combined to make a highly energized, very popular event. Both nights that I attended, spectators stood in line for about an hour just to buy tickets. Different showings would sell out and the schedule for each play was unique, which made things exceptionally complicated in the box office. And yet, standing in line was an event unto itself, with actors flying in and out of rooms for their plays, sound effects and lights blaring, and enthusiastic audience members laughing and talking between plays. Given the unusual circumstances, it was an enjoyable novelty to see actors between plays, rather than sequestered backstage. One cast chatted with me as I waited for a play and as they were between performances, saying that they love watching spectators emerge from plays as enthused as if they had just ridden a roller coaster.

And as I mentioned, many of the plays themselves were excellent. Several were comic masterpieces. Paso de madrugada, directed by Mauricio Jiménez, could not have been funnier, with stellar comic performances by Ángel Lara and Mauricio Pimentel as bumbling police officers and Odett Méndez as a woman in labor. This play included sirens and lights out on the street, enlivening the neighborhood. Mario Espinoza’s version of ¿Quién anda ahí? highlighted perfectly the abyss between Mexico’s lower and upper classes. El censo, directed by Martín Acosta, was hilariously performed in a closet. And Cuento de navidad, directed by David Olguín, included a rich Santa Claus and a contrasting poor Santa trying to edge into the former’s territory. Carballido’s gift for portraying the picaresque element and ingenuity in Mexican culture sparkled in all four of these plays, but social statements came through as well. Other plays offered more subdued content and overt focus on Mexico’s troubles, such as La miseria, directed by Enrique Pineda, which dealt with the homeless and the way privileged classes ignore them. Incidentally, this play was performed in the smallest performance space I can ever remember experiencing —I estimated that it was about 6 x 8 feet, with 17 spectators and 3 actors sharing that space. Ana Karina Guevara, Mauricio Bonet and Carilú Navarro’s performances were all the more impressive given that tiny space and the incredible proximity to spectators. José Alberto Gallardo directed a powerful versión of La pesadilla, in which innocents living next to Tlatelolco square suffered in the moments following the 1968 massacre. Surreal elements, I assume added by set designer Alain Kerriú, such as screws in a doll’s head...