‘EL HURACÁN’ FINDS CUBAN AMERICAN FAMILY CAUGHT UP IN DEMENTIA
Major hurricanes strike the Florida panhandle every three or so years, leaving devastation in their wake. The same can be said of what happens to the Cuban American family at the center of “El Huracán,” which opened Saturday at Cygnet Theatre in San Diego.
Written by Charise Castro Smith in 2018 and directed by Daniel Jáquez in its West Coast premiere, “El Huracán” is set in Miami, where the Category 5 Hurricane Andrew is about to strike in August 1992. But the true tempest that’s destroying the family rushing to box up possessions in their family home isn’t physical but mental. Aging family matriarch Valeria has Alzheimer’s disease and is barely verbal, but her longterm memories — which the audience can see in flashbacks — are vibrantly colored and undamaged.
But like the tropical hurricanes, the disease that entraps Valeria’s mind and the tragic repercussions it has on her family will eventually return and forge a new path of destruction.
The intermissionless 90-minute play is staged on a mostly bare stage beneath a chicken wire and fairylight-filled, funnel-cloudstyle sculpture created by scenic designer Yi-Chien Lee and lighting designer Elba Emicente Sanchez. Sound designer Eliza Vedar creates the storm’s roar of wind and rain. All six members of the show’s versatile cast are good actors who in some cases play multiple roles.
Amalia Alarcón Morris stars as the older Valeria, who has returned with her daughter Ximena (Catalina Maynard) and granddaughter Miranda (Sandra Ruiz) to clear out the home Cuba native Valeria left 18 months
earlier following the death of her estranged husband Alonso (Manny Fernandez). As Ximena and Miranda pack things, Valeria retreats into her memories of serving as the stage assistant in her husband’s nightclub magic act and going to the beach with her sister Alicia (Carla Navarro), who drowned at a
young age.
Ximena is worn down by grief, the responsibility of caring for her mother and a troubled relationship with her teen daughter Miranda, whose selfish behavior with neighborhood handyman Fernando (Christopher Cruz) leads to tragedy.
The second section of the play takes place 25 years later. But, without an intermission, director Jáquez transmits the passage of time by having the actors playing Ximena and Miranda change costumes and wigs onstage. Before the audience’s eyes, Ximena transforms into a grandmother, and Miranda becomes the mother of a teenage daughter, and the cycle of trauma begins to repeat itself. To say any more would spoil the play’s ending.
About 10 percent of the play is performed in Spanish, which symbolizes the disconnect Miranda — who barely speaks the language — feels with her family’s history. Many audience members who don’t speak the language will miss some jokes and arguments between the women, but the trajectory of the plot is easy to follow.
The play begins sluggishly but fortunately picks up steam about midway through. Some of dialogue feels choppy, and one scene involving a flirtation between Miranda and Fernando feels forced and artificial. But the play ends with heart and poignancy, as well as the hope that perhaps the family’s final storm has passed.