Odalys Nanin (Photo by Chris Hume)
Reviewed by Martín Hernández
CASA 0101
Through June 9
Beset by constant physical and emotional pain since childhood, acclaimed Mexican artist Frida Kahlo still possessed an uninhibited lust for life, love, and revolutionary politics. Her multiple medical complications, tempestuous marriage(s) to fellow painter and muralist Diego Rivera, myriad affairs with both men and women, and commitment to Marxism are legendary. She used her artwork, mostly colorful and surreal self-portraits, not only to express – and exorcise – the suffering that shaped her being but also to be “useful to the revolutionary Communist movement.” As Frida laid in state in Mexico City’s Palace of Fine Arts a day after her death, a hammer and sickle flag was draped over her casket.
However, playwright/performer Odalys Nanin’s portrait of the last week in Kahlo’s life is devoid of the passion that fueled the artist’s tortured soul and her radical politics. More an abbreviated history lesson than a dramatic presentation, the production falters due to an exposition-laden script, caricatured performances from the ensemble, and stilted staging from director Corky Dominguez. Also troubling is Nanin’s reduction of Frida to a mere sexual being, dismissing her leftism and instead proffering a shallow rendering of this brilliant iconic woman.
It is July 6, 1954, the 47th birthday of Frida (Nanin), who is convalescing following the recent amputation of her right leg. Ensconced in her famed Casa Azul in Mexico City, desperately awaiting a visit from her beloved but unfaithful Diego (Oscar Basulto), she is cared for by a doting nurse (Tricia Cruz) and subsisting on painkillers, tequila, and her memories. As she slips in and out of consciousness, a number of Frida’s paramours pop in and out of both her real life and her imagination to deliver turgid biographical sketches of themselves and their connection to her.
There is Costa Rican singer Chavela Vargas (Gabriella Ortiz) who, accompanied by an unnamed guitarist (Francisco Medina), serenades the birthday girl. Josephine Baker (Mair Flores), the Black American chanteuse who Kahlo met in 1930s Paris, shimmies out of Frida’s mind and into her bed. Italian photographer Tina Modotti (Corina Vela) and Mexican movie star Maria Felix (Ortiz) also make brief appearances. An underdeveloped subplot involving Fidel Castro and his Cuban spy Teresa Proenza (Vela) is a brief and minor nod to Frida’s politics.
Most awkward are the scenes between Frida and Diego, as neither Nanin nor Basulto can muster up sufficient chemistry in portraying the couple’s volatile marriage. There is also the age reversal of the actors compared to that of their characters. Nanin appears almost 20 years older than Frida was in 1954 and Basulto looks younger than the 67-year-old Diego in the same year, thus making moot an integral dynamic of their relationship. And while Nanin may have reverence for Frida, her haphazard manner of wielding a brush on canvas may well have given Frida pause.
One redeeming feature is the stunning visuals of immersive designer Anthony Storniolo and graphic designer Anielka Gallo, who bring many of Frida’s paintings to life in animated projections on the back of the stage. Blooming flowers, beating hearts, and fluttering butterflies are just some of the sumptuous images presented. The ghost of Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky (voiced by Paul Cascante) also gets the digital treatment, though he is depicted as another of Frida’s affairs rather than as the crucial ideological influence he was to both Frida and Diego.
CASA 0101 Theater, 2102 East First Street, Los Angeles; Fri.-Sat., 8 pm; Sun., 5 pm; through June 9. http://machatheatre.org. Running time: 80 minutes with no intermission.
