Review: The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics Offers 100 Minutes of Lassitude

Netflix’s recent adaptation of Gabriel García Márquez’s novel One Hundred Years of Solitude has reminded us of that enchanting and mysterious literary genre known as magic realism, in which the fantastical exists side by side with the everyday. Julián Mesri has created something of a spoof of the style in his play The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics with the intention of critiquing capitalistic forces that have invaded South America, exploited its resources, and colonized its peoples.

While the message is worth exploring, Mesri’s play is not. Running at INTAR in a co-production with the Radio Drama Network, The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics is a mishmash of underrealized plot points, cartoonish characters, and limp dialogue that director Kathleen Capdesuñer has not guided her under-rehearsed cast to execute believably. The result is 100 minutes of dreary silliness that ultimately goes nowhere.

The story revolves around the Dulk family, who have moved to the town of Buenos Cruces in an unnamed South American country where the geckos scream “carajo” (sound design by Germán Martínez). The patriarch, John, whom we never meet, works for a huge corporation named Cantilever that produces household products like shampoo and diapers. John’s wife, Julie (Octavia Chavez-Richmond), dresses in ’50s-style outfits (costumes by Haydee Zelideth) and can’t get enough of the succulent mangoes that grow in the plastic tree by their half-built house (set by Raul Abrego). Her snotty daughters, meanwhile, are obsessed with their hair. Victoria (Lilian Rebelo) has been blessed with magical locks that grow so long she has to carry them in a basket, and her poor sister Gloria (Katie Rodriguez) hates her for it. She’s going bald.

But there’s something sinister happening at Cantilever. The cigarettes they produce are making people speak French, and two revolutionaries (Dario Ladani Sánchez and Keren Lugo) are determined to take the colonizing conglomerate down. While that’s happening, Julie loses her infant son, Jiminy, only to discover him moments later—as a 30-year-old man (Reece dos Santos). What will become of this strange family as the rebels advance and try to oust their oppressors?

Sadly, it’s not a question worth answering. Though Mesri’s story does in fact have several legitimate elements of magic realism at work along with valid criticisms of capitalist greed, the story descends into incoherence and then packages all that it needed to say into a short monologue delivered by Lugo at the end. That’s too bad, because Capdesuñer does get things off to a funny start by creating the atmosphere of a campy telenovela, but it’s quickly lost as Mesri’s plot gets away from him.

The cast too seemed mired in the play’s muck as well, and, at the performance I attended, underprepared, with multiple flubs from nearly all the actors. Noticeable mistakes in lighting cues (by Lucrecia Briceño) and ill-fitting wigs reinforced this feeling. That sort of thing is unusual for INTAR, which has produced exceptional works in the past such as Vámonos (one of my top shows of 2023). I’ll continue to look forward to more from this terrific company, but regarding The Irrepressible Magic of the Tropics, I’ll let the geckos have the last word.