Jason WhitacreA lone casket sits in the center of the funeral hall, watched over by a towering stained-glass image of the iconic Our Lady of Guadalupe, surrounded by a deep blue light, while the scent of wooden incense fills the space. Vic finds himself pantsless, torn apart and slinging the kinds of swears usually reserved for sailors at Detective Balthazar. It’s a strange scene for what appears to be the opening of a funeral.
It’s here that we find ourselves when the house lights drop, in Phillips Hall Theater for Our Lady of 121st Street, directed by SAC theater professor Kevin Slay. Originally written by Stephen Adley Guirgis and first performed in 2002, the play portrays a dozen individuals who have reunited at the New York borough of their youth to mourn the passing of Sister Rose, who helped raise them, only to find that her body has gone missing. What follows is a beautifully executed exploration of marginalization, insecurity, personal failings and harsh realities found in similarly diverse neighborhoods across the United States. An exploration that, at times, leaves us wanting more substance from the script.
Every scene is dictated at the onset by the stark background lighting. From royal blues to pious reds, ambient bar signage, and terrific spotlight work, lighting designer David Zahecewski took center stage for two hours without ever being seen. With every transition executed smoothly, what would normally be a slight bit of light for stagehands to watch their step was transformed into a silhouetted piece of art between each scene.
On the page, it’s easy to confuse Balthazar for a Columbo-type detective, but this blurring clears up quickly with the first swig from his flask. This is a broken man trying to keep a strong face, executed with gravitas by Anthony Hernandez, who opens and closes the performance next to Vic, played by Izaiah Martinez.
Hernandez seems unsure of himself for a few lines in the first scene before finding his stride, and never breaks it. From jokes about ham sandwiches to a breathtaking monologue that closes the show with finesse, Hernandez is part Bogart, part Pacino, but all the way a tired drunk. This is an actor worth keeping an eye on for future performances.
Bouncing off of Hernandez during her interrogation, Nela Nava plays Norca, an old classmate and former friend of Inez. Norca’s fiery and troubled personality is brought in without hesitation, and it makes all the difference. Arguing with Balthazar, you know she’s playing cat-and-mouse to win and not just for fun, but for keeps. Nava’s chemistry with Inez actor Lesly Rosales is striking when the two former close friends, separated by infidelity, meet in the bar. Tension is palpable when Norca explodes into a verbal and physical tantrum directed at Sonia, charmingly portrayed by Eileen Garcia.
Not only do we feel Norca’s passion, but also how threatening unchained pain can be. While every other member of the cast takes a moment to settle into their character, Nava is all in by first light.
A great deal of the heart in Our Lady of 121st Street comes from the unlikely pairing of Rooftop and Father Lux. Rooftop, played by Erik Diaz, is a radio DJ with a penchant for illicit substances, and Father Lux, an elderly man performed brilliantly by a younger man, Graham Zemke, has been a priest for over 40 years by the time we meet him. Diaz takes a few beats to slip into the comfort of a man three joints deep, and it’s hard to tell if that’s a choice due to the unpredictable nature of the character or personal discomfort with the archetype. Either way, Rooftop reads as familiar to anyone who has known a person of his ilk.
At times reminiscent of absurdist characters like Hamlet’s bumbling fellows in “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead”, Rooftop seems to find humor in everything while understanding that he has no control over anything. He would have a fitting entry in the “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy”. Diaz’s big monologue comes off as though he’s reading off the page, but he manages the character well upon his exit.
In the end, he seems to represent the entire piece as he dips in and out of the confessional booth or bar chair. Rooftop makes a display of the absurd personalities we all maintain in the grasp of intense grief and personal turmoil. Even if it takes a scene or two for Diaz to find his stride, his purpose becomes clear and is delivered convincingly.
Watching Zemke balance the devil and angel on Lux’s shoulders while deciding whether or not to give helpful words to Rooftop is a performance worthy of study. During an emotionally heavy scene in the neighborhood bar, Father Lux invites Rooftop and Flip, played by DJ Clancy, into a moment of prayer. An embittered “come to Jesus” moment for Father Lux and Rooftop that lays the tension on thick.
Flip is a closeted homosexual in a long relationship with openly gay actor Gail, played by Eel Navarro. Navarro is given plenty of dialogue to explore their insecurities, and Clancy does well with a fantastic bit of masculine rage when he sips from a flask and convinces himself that it’s time to be mean. While the performance is executed well, there’s a hesitance to it that makes us think Clancy isn’t used to this sort of expression.
Edwin and Pinky, played by Edson Gomez and Jafet Vargas, are a pair of brothers who suffered an unfortunate accident that left Pinky mentally stunted. With Edwin as Pinky’s caretaker and the long-time super for the building where the ensemble has reunited, he’s left with frustrations and anxieties that often bubble to the surface.
Gomez’s ability as Edwin to shift from the pent-up rage of long-held grievances to a gentle caretaker is impressive and deserved more time in the spotlight than the script provides the character. While Vargas gives Pinky an emotional heart to his role that successfully gains your sympathy on multiple occasions, he suffers from the same lack of stagetime as many others. In an ensemble of impressive performances, only a few get enough time to truly shine.
In the middle of all of these personalities, it’s easy to forget that there’s also the missing body of Sister Rose to deal with. It’s only mentioned a handful of times, but this play was never about Sister Rose. It’s about the things we lose by mismanaging our own personal turmoil. It’s a character study exploring a culture steeped in a wide range of diversity and discrimination that holds as much relevance in Santa Ana today as it did for New York City 25 years ago. Showing that even through intense marginalization based on race, gender, sexual preference, economic status, and more, there is always a commonality in the human experience.
Our Lady of 121st Street isn’t a perfect show, but that’s more of a critique of the script, not how it was interpreted or executed. It often feels heavy-handed in the messaging, and some of the characters feel forced in rather than useful. Many seem to drop out of the show while we’re still getting to know them. Again, those aren’t faults of this production, but part of what comes with the territory in character pieces like this.
Due to excellent technical and performance choices, Our Lady of 121st Street at Phillips Hall still manages to entertain and to delight in that way that sits with you for days, and maybe even weeks later. It’s time well spent by me, and by all who can find it.
Our Lady of 121st Street, directed by Professor Kevin Slay, will run until Sunday, April 5, in Phillips Hall Theater at Santa Ana College. Tickets can be found at the box office or by clicking this link.
