Theatre in Review: The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics (INTAR/Radio Drama Network)

	Octavia Chavez-Richmond. Photo: Valerie Terranova

The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics unfolds in the mythical Latin American land of Buenos Cruces, Spanish for "good meetings." Irony alert: Buenos Cruces is a staging ground for sorcery, ghosts, revolutions, and capitalism run amok. The Dulk family, formerly of America, has arrived en masse, led by John, the head of the household and vice president of Cantilever, Inc. ("The C stands for quality!"), a conglomerate that makes all sorts of products. Thanks to Cantilever, Buenos Cruces will have "the first factory in Latin America to manufacture dish soap, rolls of tape, cigarettes, sailboats, spatulas, shampoo, and sandals." If labor is cheap and regulations are few, the location is beyond remote to get there, the Dulks have traveled by water and over mountains, not without peril. As Julie, John's wife, exasperatedly notes, "We're still behind schedule since the furniture boat seems to have been taken by pirates, of all things!"

The oblivious, Bible-brandishing Julie hasn't a clue about what's in store in Buenos Cruces. The family's unfinished house is surrounded by invasive greenery, plagued by noisy geckos, and rife with an unbearable stench. Stage characters come and go, often launching into tortured personal histories. Guerillas lurk in the background, inexplicably plotting in Southern-accented English. One Dulk daughter, Victoria, has blond tresses growing so fast she carries them in a basket and, later, a wheelbarrow. Victoria's sister, Gloria, is going bald. And then there's the matter of the Cantilever-made diapers, featuring a secret ingredient that inadvertently causes infants to age thirty years in a day. (As somebody notes, "Time she is cruel.")

Then Julie's baby son Jiminy is snatched out of his cradle. Julie is ready to pay get to him back, but, she notes, "Seeing as there's no ransom note I'm not too sure who to pay. If we leave a banana sack filled with money on a tree, do you think someone will make sure it gets to the right people?" This last question is addressed to a mysterious interloper, dressed in flared pants and a denim jacket decorated with flowers, who is discovered reading Moby-Dick. As it happens, he knows plenty about Jiminy's fate, and the information will have a profoundly destabilizing effect on Julie.

Exactly where Mesri is headed with all this isn't too clear. The action is set in the mid-twentieth century, a key sign he is spoofing the effects of American corporations, like United Fruit, which have left dire footprints in other countries. But The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics has its mind on many things, spoofing magical realist literature, telenovelas, and anything else. Those drawling revolutionaries are multilingual, leading them to be labeled "Franco-Prussian guerillas." There's the moment when Gloria's hair takes on a life of its own, offering plenty of sassy backtalk. In a twist that promises momentous changes for the Dulks, Julie ends up running around carrying a disembodied arm. And let's not forget Gurnacha, a self-styled "healer...and consultant" who has a drastic solution to the labor and management problems at Cantilever.

As you can tell, The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics is all over the place, a frantic satire that shoots in all directions. If the director, Kathleen Capdesuner, can't organize this gaggle of bizarre characters and plot elements into anything coherent, it's hard to imagine anyone doing much better. Among the cast members, Octavia Chavez-Richmond is sometimes amusingly steely as Julie, Reece dos Santos brings some mystery as that Herman Melville-reading intruder, and Dario Ladani Sanchez is often unrecognizable in innumerable roles, including a sinister architect, a Dulk family factotum, and a priest who takes an unseemly interest in Victoria's hair. The resident scene-stealer, however, is Keren Lugo as, among others, the Dulk's nanny, who knows much more than she says; her knack for slipping into melodramatic poses provides most of the evening's best laughs.

The director has enlisted the services of Raul Abrego, whose set design suggests the Dulks in a losing battle with the natural world; Lucrecia Briceno, whose lighting easily shifts with the script's wild mood swings; sound designer German Martinez, who provides music (composed by Mesri), animal noises, and eerie gusts of wind; and Haydee Zelideth, who dresses the Dulks in amusing examples of early 1960s domestic chic.

INTAR and Radio Drama Network have clearly gone out of the way to support Mesri's kooky vision, which, all in all, is a good thing, I think. The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics plainly doesn't work -- it's relentless, occasionally confusing, and it can't resist a target, no matter how small -- but Mesri has a wild imagination and, with a tad more discipline and focus, he may deliver something dazzling. Let's hope his very real talent proves to be irrepressible, too. -- David Barbour