Playwright: Martin Zimmerman. At: Teatro Vista at the Biograph, 2433 N. Lincoln Ave. Tickets: 773-871-3000; www.victorygardens.org; $25-$30 . Runs through: Oct. 13
Once upon a time, in the Tucson barrio, there were two brothers—the older one dark-featured like his Latina mother, the younger one, fair-complexioned like his Anglo father. In present-day Arizona, a readily identifiable "Hispanic" can attend law school, run for political office and become state's attorney general, but a vato rubio seeking companionship in the streets is likely to end up serving prison time before leaving his teens. This is where Edward Moreno and Beto Robinson—the former having jettisoned his runaway sire's Eurocentric surname—find themselves at the beginning of Martin Zimmerman's look at the hard choices faced by those who would rise above their origins.
At first, the picture looks sunny for los hermanos Morenos (a name, ironically, meaning "swarthy"). Edward has a wife and daughter, along with prospects viewed favorably by his superiors after campaigns owing much of their success to his own kin's tale of rehabilitation. Beto is initially suspicious of his estranged sibling's largesse, but accepts the fresh start promised by a job, an apartment and inclusion in a stable family. Then one of Beto's former homeys appeals to him for help, leading the uneasy ex-con to witness an incident endangering the fates of everyone involved. From that moment forward, the question of color takes a back seat to the question of what each of the men is willing to sacrifice in pursuit of his future.
It would be easy to reduce these conflicts to telenovela stereotype, but Zimmerman's biography reveals that he has, himself, walked in his characters' shoes. The choices that gradually narrow their courses, both physically and spiritually, are as minuscule—a few hours' delay before the disclosure of facts with the power to circumvent all the unhappiness and injustice at the outset, for example—and as personal as in classical tragedy. If the author's intent was to draw parallels between the stratagems employed in government circles and those of gangs, the social context never eclipses the individual decisions rendered within the restricted options afforded by even the most enlightened societies.
This is heavy existential cargo for only four actors, but Teatro Vista director Edward Torres never allows his cast to coast on comic-book Macchiavellia. From Gabriel Ruiz and Nate Santana's doomed survivors to Jan Radcliff's savvy mentor and Marvin Quijada's despairing martyr, they command our sympathy over the play's 90-minute running time right up to an abrupt—and provocatively unresolved—ending guaranteed to spark post-show discussions.
