The Abuelas
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Antaeus Theater Company
Through November 25
The Abuelas is the second play by Stephanie Alison Walker to address the tragedy of Los Desaparecidos — Argentinian citizens who opposed the military junta that governed the country between 1976 and 1983 and who fell prey to the right-wing death squads that kidnapped, tortured and murdered thousands. Some of those killed were armed guerillas who actively fought the regime, but others were non-combatants — students, artists and intellectuals among them — who for a variety of reasons offended the government’s fascist creed. These assassinations were carried out in secret after the victims’ kidnappings took place — hence the term Los Desaparecidos, or in English “the disappeared.” (The same horrific phenomenon has transpired in Chile, Mexico, Northern Ireland and other countries throughout the world.)
The wholesale abduction of so many young people precipitated the formation of Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo, a group of women who actively marched in memory of their children and grandchildren. A sister organization, Abuelas de Plaza de Mayo was established in 1977; its specific purpose was to secure the return of missing grandchildren — progeny of the Desaparecidos who were taken from their mothers to be adopted by approved families. The mothers themselves were slain, some of them taken up in airplanes, drugged, and tossed into the Atlantic Ocean.
Walker’s The Madres, which was produced last year at the Skylight Theatre, is set in Buenos Aires during the reign of terror, and develops around an older woman and her middle-aged daughter who are frantic about the disappearance of their granddaughter and daughter respectively. The Abuelas, which transposes one of the characters from the previous play, takes place in Chicago in the present day. Its pivotal figure is the Argentinian-born Gabriela (Luisina Quarleri), an accomplished cellist with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, now hosting her mom Soledad (Denise Blasor), who is visiting from Buenos Aires. A bit of a drama queen, Soledad’s heart is nonetheless in the right place, and she dotes on her gifted daughter and baby grandson. She also has a cordial relationship with Gabriela’s husband, Marty (Seamus Dever) — in some ways less problematic than her relationship with her daughter, who loves her mom but resents her controlling ways. As to the marriage, like so many other modern couples, Gabriela and Marty work to keep it going, hobbled by Marty’s affair some two years past, something Gabriela hasn’t let him forget.
These problems are compounded with the arrival of two strangers: César (David DeSantos), a forensic anthropologist whom Soledad had met in church and invited to her birthday party, and César’s elderly ill-at-ease companion, Caroline (Irene De Bari). They are bearers of a secret that will upend the lives of Marty and Gabriela, and Gabriela’s parents, Soledad and Juan (whom we never meet).
Like The Madres, Walker’s latest work comes with the moral high ground engendered by its focus on a terrible, unforgivable event in modern history. It’s hard to dispute the core value of a drama that looks to preserve the memory of victims of unconscionable crimes and to honor the work of groups like The Abuelas, which seeks to reunite the orphaned children of the disappeared with members of their biological family.
The Abuelas, however, is not a subtle play. Even as directed by Andi Chapman (who brought us the superb Native Son at Antaeus last year and an equally stunning The Gospel at Colonus at the Nate Holden Performing Arts Center in 2015), the melodrama seems excessive. At the heart of the story is a secret in Gabriela’s past that leaves her unhinged and lashing out at those around her. While it’s feasible for her to be distressed, the extremity of her response makes it seem contrived. Some of this uber-drama has to do with how the playwright has constructed her narrative for maximum dramatic effect, but it also has to do with direction and Qualeri’s performance, which on opening night was punctuated by tormented looks of despair that added a patina of staginess to her portrayal.
As Soledad, Blasor has worked to create a lively opinionated character — which may bear fruit later in the run but for now her efforts are still too visible. Dever delivers a calibrated performance as the forbearing Marty, and the intimate scenes between the married couple are well-played by both actors, and effectively staged as well. DeSantos, cast in a role that’s basically a device, fails to develop his character much further. In a play built around a secret, De Bari gives the store away with her first conspicuously jittery moment on stage, draining subsequent ones of suspense. She’s also done little to project the physicality (presumably on the frail side) of the 82-year-old woman she is depicting — a failing that speaks equally to direction.
The drama’s most gripping scene comes in its final moments, which spotlight Carolina Montenegro’s all too brief appearance as a ghost from the past, come to help Gabriela heal her fractured spirit. The intensity and truth in this sequence are a marked contrast to the pseudo-theatrics prior, too often underscored by designer Jeff Gardner’s sweeping sound.
Designer Edward E. Haynes spacious, high-ceilinged interior in a Chicago high-rise is highlighted by a large picture window that looks out on the lake. Through it you can observe a captivating visual: swirling snow (projections by Adam R. Macias, augmented by Andrew Schmedake’s lighting), now lighter, now heavier, blanketing the lakefront below and acting as gauge to the turmoil of emotion inside.
Antaeus Theatre Company at the Kiki & David Gindler Performing Arts Center, 110 E. Broadway, Glendale; Fri., Sat., & Mon., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (dark Nov. 1, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 17, 22, 23); through Nov. 25; (818) 506-1983 or www.Antaeus.org. Running time: approximately two hours and 15 minutes with an intermission.
