by Shelley A. Sackett
Fade, a two-person play in production on Trinity Rep’s smaller downstairs stage through January 5, is a welcome respite from the same-oldness of the usual holiday theatrical suspects. Although a bit uneven and in need of serious editing (trimming 10-15 minutes from the 100-minute intermission-less production could do wonders for its pacing), Tanya Saracho’s script is a witty and perceptive antidote to sugar plum fairies and ghosts of Christmases past, present and future.
Our two characters – Lucia (Elia Saldana) and Abel (Daniel Duque-Estrada) – both work in a Hollywood television studio. When we meet Lucia, all frenetic energy and stiletto prancing, she is setting up her office, unpacking her personal effects and placing them on a bookshelf. As soon as she places the last item on the shelf, it collapses as if on cue. The first time this happens, it’s mildly amusing, if trite and predictable. The third time, however, raises red flags that the next 99 minutes may be tedious indeed.
Enter Abel, a baseball-hatted office cleaner, to everyone’s rescue. He proceeds to fix the bookcase, in a matter-of-fact and business-like manner. His laid back, laconic style makes Lucia’s staccato mannerisms seem downright manic. Lucia takes one look at him and breaks into rapid-fire Spanish, eventually punctuating her monologue with enough English for a non-Spanish speaking audience member to glean her story. She tells the mute Abel that she is a novelist from Mexico who, after waiting for the idea for her second novel to germinate, realized she needed a steadier income. Although she has no previous experience, she nonetheless landed her first job as a television writer. She worries that she is a diversity hire, questioning her abilities, and also worries about the lack of light in her dingy little office.
When Abel is unable to ignore Lucia any longer and finally speaks, he turns to her and asks a question that goes straight to the heart of the play’s message. “Why are you speaking to me in Spanish?” he inquires. “We have to be militants about speaking our mother tongue. Why don’t you speak Spanish at work?” she counters. “Because I’m American. Because this is America,” he says.
Lucia, who grew up with a maid among Mexico’s wealthy, upper echelons, assumes that Abel, a lowly janitor pushing a vacuum cleaner, must be a Latino who speaks little or no English. She sidles up to him, purring about their common roots while intoning the beginnings of an “us vs them” refrain. When it turns out Abel was born and raised in Southern California, Lucia doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you know what’s the hardest thing about being brown and being from the barrio like I am?” she asks Abel. “It’s knowing I can never be one of them.” Eventually, Lucia manages to break down Abel’s defenses by preying on this sense of their shared “otherness,” and Abel begins to relax. He tells her of his stint as a firefighter as well as his time with the Marines. He talks about his six-old-daughter and her mother. He confides his darkest and deepest secrets, unleashing years of pent-up secrecy and shame. He is grateful for her company, grateful to trust. He is a simple man, but one of true substance.
Daniel Duque-Estrada, as Abel, is economical and precise, revealing his character’s complexity through a simple gesture, a small facial expression or a perfectly placed pause. He is a member of the Trinity Rep Resident Acting Company, and his experience and talent are as obvious as they are welcome.
Lucia, on the other hand, is a fascinating study in self-absorption, cluelessness and blind ambition. Saracho has given her some of the play’s funniest lines, but also some of the most clichéd. Elia Saldana plays her at a single volume (high) and almost as a caricature of a young Latina. Think Charo, Rosie Perez and a yippy chihuahua all rolled into one and you get the idea. It’s a shame that Saldana doesn’t seem to trust her own talent. A little subtlety and nuance could go a long way in fleshing out this woman who is simultaneously humorous, manipulative, charming, mean, erotic and unfair.
Saracho raises some interesting questions and one can only hope she will go back to the drawing room one more time and trim some of the script’s detracting fat. Much of the dialogue sparkles with biting humor and insight. (The scene about Lucia’s boss asking her to talk to his maid and translate his complaint is among the play’s best). Saracho deftly tackles universal ideas about human dignity, class and life itself through the lens of two people who are the “other” both to everyone else in their office and to each other. Most importantly, she leaves the audience to ponder several thought-provoking points. Are people who share cultural backgrounds obligated to stick together? What happens when one chooses to get ahead and join the ranks of “the other,” leaving their minority brethren to fend for themselves? Is this not, after all, the quintessential American dream? Or is it rather, Saracho suggests, the quintessential American betrayal?
‘Fade’- Written by Tanya Saracho. Directed by Tatyana-Marie Carlo; Set Design by Efren Delgadillo, Jr.; Costume Design by Amanda Downing Carney; Co-Lighting Design by Pablo Santiago and Ginevra Lombardo; Sound Design by David R. Molina. Presented by Trinity Repertory Company, 201 Washington Street, Providence, R.I through January 5.For tickets and information, go to: https://www.trinityrep.com/