Is Mojada: A Medea in Los Angeles a dream or a nightmare? Luis Alvarez’ play, directed by Rebecca Martinez, uses Euripides’ classic Greek tragedy as a base for a story about life in Los Angeles barrio (and has been adapted to being localized in New York and Chicago productions). It seems to have some hints of magical realism about it, opening with a ritualistic sort of dance.
Reality, though, immediately follows as we meet Tita (Alma Martinez), who is, among other things, a housekeeper, curandera (a folk healer), functional “auntie” and – a rather shocking word in the contemporary time frame in which this is set – slave. Tita gives us backstory on the household of Jason (Peter Mendoza), Medea (Cheryl Umana) and their son Acan (Cole Sanchez). The family came from Michoacan, Mexico, and crossed illegally. They’re not doing badly – Jason has a job working on apartment buildings, and Medea, to whom Tita has caught cuanderia skills, is a gifted seamstress, although working for very little money out of their apartment.

Medea is a loving mother and partner, although her health seems a little iffy, and we come to realize she’s fragile. She doesn’t want to leave her home, even to go out with Jason and Acan, doesn’t have any friends. Jason, on the other hand, is downright exuberant over the opportunities he’s finding in their new neighborhood and is eager to assimilate, to the point of encouraging Acan to call him Dad and not Papi. The outside world, though, presents itself to Medea first in the form of Josefina (Guadalis Del Carmen), who Tita has met. “Josey”, as she’s been re-named by the hipsters who are gentrifying things, vends her baked goods from a cart but she regards them with a realistic eye; she’d really like to charge them more for her pan dulce than she charges her paisanos who are regular customers.
Jason gets a couple of promotions, and his boss asks him to bring Medea to dinner. That won’t work, but the boss comes to their home, and we realize that the boss is a woman, Armida (Maggie Bofill). Moreover, it turns out that Jason has told bosslady that he and Medea aren’t actually married. It was sort of optional where they were, and we get more details on the circumstances of their departure from Mexico. Amida is the opposite of Medea. She’s shiny, slinky and driven – you can’t be modest and make it in America, she tells Medea, who’s traditional in dress and attitude. Amida has obviously impressed Jason. She turns out to be the monkey wrench we’ve been expecting in the works and the nightmare part begins.
Umana, as Medea, evidences the struggle that her character has with life in this strange place. When she agreed to come to the United States, she was rather a different person, but events have wrung her out. Playing Jason, Mendoza obviously loves Medea but wants more from the new life than she does, and is willing to do quite a bit to achieve success in caring for his family, or so he thinks for a while. The physical relationship between the actors shows the affection and the hesitation of each. Cole Sanchez’s Acan is right on the mark, a warm charmer who’s more than just a body showing off his parents’ individual clothing preferences for him. But it’s Tita, Alma Martinez, that draws me with her strength and her warmth. It’s a fine performance, and her backstory, I daresay, could make for another play.
Mariana Sanchez’ set turns out to be part of the unsettling final minutes of the play, and Maria-Cristina Fuste’s lighting smooths things throughout the show. Carolyn Mazuca takes on the job of designing a seamstress’ clothes and showing both modern and lovely traditional frocks that fascinate. Original music and sound design by David R Molina carry us along.
Plays like this, that originate in very old, traditional stories – Euripides, you know, didn’t come up with these characters on his own; these are from the stories of the Greek gods – don’t really need to be measured against the originals. There surely are similarities here, but this story sets its own standards. My only serious complaint is that the ending, unless you do have some idea of the original story, comes with no foreboding at all, leaving some audience in shock. And there’s nothing wrong with that, even if it’s not the classical tradition.
Mojada: A Medea in Los Angeles
through February 2
The Repertory Theatre of St. Louis
130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves
repstl.org
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