Chilangolandia, mi amor

It is difficult for me to come to terms with the fact that it has taken me years to return to my beloved Ciudad de México (CDMX) and its vibrant and dynamic theater scene—a long-distance relationship prolonged by the COVID-19 pandemic, finishing my dissertation, and a new job/move. So, to my utter delight, the first production on this trip was Chilangolandia, mi amor at Foro A Poco No on calle de la República de Cuba. My first play back turned out to be a love letter to the city by those who live the good, the bad, and the chingado. 

The 80-minute billed production is a cornucopia of histories and experiences that help build/reflect a sense of community among those who call CDMX their home (whether since birth, by choice, or by force). The actors share stories and interact with the audience—thus creating this two-fold sense of community through stories and action. I might add that with the rise of artificial intelligence, and concerns about dwindling human contact, coupled with an ever-increasing sense of loneliness, this play reminds us of the many players that construct a community, as well as community fostered through theater experiences. This play also reminded me that I feel such a community in CDMX each time I return. It feels great to be back! 

The playwright, Mario Conde, wrote in the playbill: 

No se trata de las historias de la ciudad, sino de la historia que la ciudad misma es. El calor dentro de un taxi, el olor de una quesadilla callejera, las inundaciones en avenidas, la música del concreto: emociones que vivimos a través de personajes de papel para expresar lo mucho que se ama a una ciudad que nos da todo para odiarla” 

It’s not about stories from the city, but the story of what the city itself is. The heat inside a taxi, the smell of a street-bought quesadilla, the floodings on the avenues, the music from the concrete: emotions that we live through character roles that express how much we love a city that gives us every reason to hate it (my translation). 

The roughly 20 stories, not in chronological order, that I could count throughout the production were: street vendors, a lucha libre fight, relating traffic news from a helicopter, a female lover acting as if she were the city, relating episodes of tragedy in the city, a male calling on a prostitute, relating their run-in with the trademarked word chilango, a moment to talk about their theater, relating aspects of the city through the alphabet, the curtain call, a lamplight with skull, the dance of death, a robber with gun, the evolution of the bus, relating a story with an Aztec codex, cut-out scenes of the city, the death of a lady in a traffic accident, the representation of death on scaffolding, the suggestion of a new city crest, commuting to work late on the bus. 

The four actors, David Almaga, Abigail Espíndola, Omar Esquinca, and Erika Franco, inhabited various roles throughout each of these scenes, demonstrating their tremendous, and nimble, acting skills, and their ability to engage—in the moment—with the audience and themselves (there was a moment another actor needed help unrolling some yarn and they stepped in to help). Throughout the production, then, the fourth wall was not only crossed, but shattered. In fact, at one point, Erika Franco, who was playing the role of a street vendor, came to me and asked me to buy something from her. At first, I thought this was just part of the show and she was going to move one, but she insisted. So, I pulled out my collection of coins, and, in the dark light of the theater, handed her I have no idea how much. And then she gave me a de la Rosa marzipan.

One might argue that they know their audience (themselves?) well—the constant swiping and messaging, Hollywood, 24-hour news cycles, have all created a world in which we, as consumers, crave attention spans with new content. Our production lasted around 70 minutes, and with the inclusion of approximately 20 scenes, that means the average length of each scene lasted around 3.5 minutes. The caveat to this calculation, however, is that there were transitions and addresses to the audience that could very well have been considered a scene. All of this said, the production was a fluid tour de force of the fast-paced life that one lives in a behemoth of an urban setting like CDMX, which is the 5th largest city in the world, with over 21.5 million inhabitants, per the 2018 UN population estimates. 

The production ends today (Sunday, July 14), so if you happen to be reading this and are in CDMX, I highly recommend taking the time to do so.