The first half of this month, a witty woman ranged over the stage of the Gunston Arts Center in Arlington County, doing devastating impressions of men. Now, through Saturday, a wisecracking man is in the house, dressed as a woman and riffing about the sexes and life in general.
Graciela Rodriguez and Petru Valenski both hail from Montevideo, Uruguay, where they are popular comedians, TV stars and stage actors. Their stage runs in the Washington area — Valenski arrived the day Rodriguez flew back home — have been a kind of experiment in the universality of humor:
Will jokes that kill on the north bank of the Rio de la Plata bomb on the southwestern shore of the Potomac?
The directors of Teatro de la Luna — a bilingual theater that presents shows in the Gunston — didn’t think so, or they wouldn’t have devised this March double-billing dubbed “From Uruguay, With Laughter.”
But Uruguay?
Even in the media markets of southern South America, Uruguay gets no respect, Rodriguez says. On television in Uruguay, it feels like all Argentina, all the time.
“We know all the Argentine actors — the good, the horrible and the abominable — but they don’t know us,” she mock-ranted at lunchtime in Luna’s house/office on Georgia Avenue NW.
That’s because, as hip as the Montevideo arts scene is, the big countries don’t deign to pick up little Uruguay’s cultural fare, said Luna’s co-founder, Mario Marcel, who can speak objectively as a native Argentine.
But now here they are, getting solid reviews from American critics and belly laughs from international audiences. (The theater provides simultaneous English translation via headphones.)
“A sense of humor depends on the person, not on the country,” Rodriguez said. “If you have a group of people sitting around a table in Montevideo, they won’t laugh at the same things. Before the country, there is the person.”
“Humor is not just laughs,” Valenski said. “It lifts your spirit, renews your desire to feel better, and it doesn’t matter what country you’re from.”
Neither artist is a joke-teller; both rely on situational humor and physical comedy, which probably helps their export potential.
Rodriguez, 53, was looking for new material for a one-woman show last year when she saw a title on display in a bookstore. It was a satirical advice manual, written by a man, instructing women on how to avoid falling in love with losers.
Within months, it was adapted into a script and she was presenting it onstage in Montevideo, where it was an immediate hit, “Como Evitar Enamorarse de un Boludo,” or in Luna’s translation, “How to Avoid Falling in Love With the Wrong Man.”
Onstage, Rodriguez is like a Uruguayan Anna Deavere Smith, slightly altering her voice or mannerisms to sketch the many varieties of loser men and the women who fall for them.
In one scene, the woman is angling to create a romantic evening that she hopes will culminate in a little lovemaking. The man surreptitiously turns on the bedroom TV — for the romantic lighting, he explains — which just happens to be showing his soccer team. The man’s increasingly passionate exclamations about the game double as hot entreaties to his lover. The scene ends, perhaps not unexpectedly, with the man crying, “Goal! Goal! Goal!”
Misunderstanding and reconciliation between the sexes is universal, of course, and Rodriguez’s real subject is the human condition: We are all losers, after a fashion, and that’s part of what’s lovable about us, she says.
“I say, if ‘wrong men’ exist, it’s because ‘wrong women’ exist, too,” she says.
Valenski’s attempt at cross-border humor is a slightly greater challenge, because his play, “Atrevidos,” or “The 3 Rascals,” takes the form of a traditional Latin American “cafe concert,” a genre popularized in Argentina in the 1960s. But it’s not totally foreign. Americans may find shades of vaudeville, cabaret and musical revues in the blend of songs, sketches and stand-up.
Valenski, 52, a stocky man with close-cropped hair, applies makeup and a wig and squeezes into a dress for his performance. The cross-dressing, he says, gives him a certain license to comment on both men and women: He can speak as a man because nobody is fooled by his costume; yet the stockings and lipstick confer authority as a woman at the same time.
He is joined onstage by two younger Uruguayan musician-actors, Danilo Mazzo and Fabian Silva.
The artists in a cafe-concert are the devil-may-care representatives of the people. “We say upfront what people are thinking down low,” Valenski said.
He locates the universality of the cafe-concert in this quality of knowing irreverence possessed by the entertainer, which goes back to Shakespeare’s fools and beyond.
Some of his bits on Latin American politics may escape some in the audience. But anyone might recognize his portrayal of a bossy, brassy lady who knows everybody’s
business in her barrio. He revisits the movie “Titanic” and splices in a song from “Cabaret,” while inviting audience members onstage to play parts.
Valenski cuts the acid of his satire by laughing at himself and stirring in dollops of tenderness and nostalgia. He sings the world-weary wisdom of Argentine chanteuse Nacha Guevara:
Better times, worse times I have lived — still I’m here.
Champagne sometimes,
other times beer or anisette — still I’m here. . . .
I’ve lost my illusions
— still I’m here.
Comedy is hard work, and both artists say it can’t be over-programmed. Both trust the inspiration of the moment, and they improvise.
“In humor, if you see the technique, it stops being humor,” Rodriguez said. “It’s easier to make people cry.”
Uruguayan Graciela Rodriguez wowed the full house audience at Teatro de la Luna with her "HOW TO AVOID FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE WRONG MAN" (To 3/12). It was basically a stand up but she did move around the stage and use props as befits an actress of long standing in her native Uruguay. She has performed for Teatro de la Luna before which might explain her popularity in this area. Generally her routine was how not to fall in love with a "dumbass" guy but also how to avoid being a "dumbass" gal. The funniest part of her routine was playing herself and her mom as they both watch some ugly performances of the hubby...she is praising his every fault while momma deprecates his behaviors. Marcela Ferlito had one "hell" of a time keeping up the simultaneous translation for those using a headset...no doubt, Ms. Rodriguez was doing a lot of improvization. The routine was a little risque but, even those parts, were done with charm so one could not object to them. Ms. Rodriquez certainly is always welcome back to DC stages...she has developed a strong following.
With a burst of energy
and expressive presence,
Graciela
Rodriquez, a teasing mistress of
comedy decamps into the theater
spotlight. Giggles and laughter
begin quickly as she shares some
life lessons and warns others to
recognize “How to Avoid Falling
In Love with the Wrong Man.”
And Arlington’s Teatro de la Luna
once again provides contemporary
theater with “a Latin American flavor,”
this time with this short run
visit with humor from Uruguay.
The production is Spanish with
live English dubbing.
In a fast paced one actor, cabaret-
like theater production, the
vivacious, ever confident
Rodriquez flirts with the audience
kicking away the normal wall between
performer and audience.
Graciela Rodriquez stars in “How to Avoid Falling In Love
with the Wrong Man.”
She pokes fun, with a soft fingertip
rather than a sharp fingernail,
at masculine foibles and “stupidity”.
She makes the audience hers
with a non-stop smile and twinkling
mascara covered eyes, coral
lipsticked full lips and curves used
to bring a delightful sensuality of
clean bawdy fun to the evening.
AS THE PROGRAM notes state,
Rodriquez’s words are “filled with
humor, say many things that
should not be taken seriously.” And
do know that her words are mature;
bawdy, naughty and
streetwise open to all the absurdity
that the sexes bring to life. The
humor aimed at men is not meanly
hurtful but rather spot-on mimicry
of male strutting and preening.
And know as well that the humor
was originally concocted and written
by a man, Marcelo Puglia who
penned the book upon which the
performance is based. Jorge
Denevi directed the show and also
adapted Puglia’s book for the
stage.
Rodriquez comes across as an
older more experienced talkative
girlfriend among girl friends or
perhaps “that” woman at a bridal
shower who after too much coffee
or a drink or two has loosened
up not only her but the others attending.
Maybe a comparison is
in order; for some think Kathy Lee
Gifford not on her morning television
show, but perchance at some
late night event talking with Hoda.
Yet when Rodriquez is nearly finished
with her non-stop performance,
she clearly admits that all
those male foibles, well there are
equal and equivalent female ones.
We are all in this together, it seems.
There may not be anything new
in the humor or content of the production.
Men are clueless as to
what women want and need.
Women need a handbook not to
fall prey to the wrong man; the
narcissist, the too suave, the commitment
phobic, the “dumbo” or
worse. Then there are targeted
zingers that create a hush leading
to knowing nods … “for women
loves comes first than desire, for
men desire comes than love.”
This is a good cross cultural experience
even if production is spoken
in Spanish. Teatro de la Luna
makes a great decision to use immediate,
live English language
dubbing. With headsets on and the
wonderful ability of a skilled, expressive
translator, the dialogue
and humor is understood just as
the Spanish language audience
hears it. Laughs are simultaneous
whether the language heard is
Spanish or English.
Some scenes do drag on, such
as one between a mother and
daughter and their differing views
of a particular man. And the plotless
performance can feel like a
well-choreographed cruise ship or
comedy club act. Costumed in a
fitted chocolate and ivory lounging
outfit, caressing her curves,
Rodriquez is a brassy delight. As
for the minimalist set, it fades
away quickly from view with all
lights on Rodriquez.
Cabaret artist Graciela Rodriguez from Uruguay has a lot to say about the battle of the sexes. Why do women fall in love with men who are jerks, fools, idiots, and dorks and make them suffer?
Rodriguez is here to wise us up. This U.S. premiere of her solo show, Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado, (How to Avoid Falling in Love with the Wrong Man), is directed by Jorge Denevi, who is giving us a theatrical adaptation of a how-to manual by Marcelo Puglia.
Well-known on Latin American television, a consummate comedienne and winner of several prestigious Latino acting awards, Rodriguez doesn’t just tell us, she shows us the men to avoid. Her soft, sweeping beige dress, with fur-trimmed V-neck (costume designed by Nelson Mancebo) is clingy and classy, and serves her well through lightning-quick character changes. Rodriguez impersonates her way into short clips about dating, marriage, lovers, ex-husbands, loneliness in relationships and sex. Culottes hidden underneath help her switch genders.
Is it possible to be a funny philosopher? Or a philosophical comedienne? However you describe her, Graciela Rodriguez is entertaining and enlightening in her one-woman show at Teatro de la Luna, "Cómo Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado" ("How to Avoid Falling in Love with the Wrong Man").
Representing the first half of a double bill called "From Uruguay with Laughter," Rodriguez's short play is an adaptation of a book by Marcelo Puglia that explains why women fall in love with men who make them suffer. Using exaggeration, mugging, song and a highly energetic approach to the script, Rodriguez and her director, Jorge Denevi, set a breakneck pace early on and stop or slow the monologue only occasionally.
The point of "Cómo Evitar" is to let women know what negative elements to look for in men and then to avoid those who have them. Rodriguez is a superb comedienne, and she has great fun representing the louts who are most dangerous to women: the boyfriend who leaves, then decides to drift back even though he already has another girlfriend; the intellectual who can't stop talking long enough to make love; the married man who forgets to tell his new girlfriend that he's married; and the sports addict who prefers a good game on TV to intimacy with his wife.
What keeps "Cómo Evitar" from sounding preachy or over-intellectualized is that Denevi, who adapted the show from the original book, has a clear taste for the absurd in his satire. At one point he creates an extended dialogue among Graciela, her mother and her husband on New Year's Eve. Rodriguez breezily pulls off the rapid-fire, three-way conversation about dancing with a suckling pig as easily as if she were ordering a cup of coffee.
Nelson Mancebo's beautifully detailed, beige floor-length dress is as much a prop as it is a costume. With its plunging neckline and feathered trim, the dress looks extremely feminine, but with one swift movement Rodriguez kicks the skirt back, revealing a more tightly fitted garment underneath. With her hand thrust in its pocket, she becomes one of the many loudmouthed, swaggering oafs she loves to dismiss.
Rodriguez is thoroughly at home acting the role of those macho boyfriends who flatter and cajole just to get a kiss. The next moment she switches back to the role of the elegant, nonchalant woman who can see right through the flattery. Those breathtakingly rapid switches of personae are a pure delight and a staple of this show.
Teatro de la Luna deserves credit for bringing "Cómo Evitar" to the United States. Rodriguez's savvy, intelligent manner of delivering this "survival manual" is a refreshing reminder that, in some circumstances, it's simply better to look on the humorous side of life.
http://washingtonexaminer.com
Theater review of 'Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado': Watch out, men
Special to The Washington Post
Saturday, March 12, 2011
The male sex comes in for sharp but good-humored mockery in "Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado (How to Avoid Falling in Love With the Wrong Man)," the broadly pitched Uruguayan stand-up comedy act that's on view at Arlington's Gunston Arts Center through Saturday, courtesy of Teatro de la Luna.
Rest assured, women get a share of ragging, too, in this 75-minute solo show, enacted with relish and some gleeful coarseness by Uruguayan theater, television and radio veteran Graciela Rodriguez. Directed by Jorge Denevi, who adapted the script from a book by Marcelo Puglia, the production conjures up a world teeming with boorish, deceptive, self-involved and incompetent men. It's a population whose antics are abetted, the play suggests, by lonely or love-blinded women.
Performing in Spanish (simultaneous English translation is available via headset), Rodriguez adjusts her voice and body language as she bounces from one dimwitted character to another in a series of monologues and skits. Dressed in a brown gown with a low back and neckline, her blond hair in a sleek pageboy, she's a glamorous presence, and she wrings some humor from the contrast between her look and the swaggering, spitting, leering machismo she often channels.
Now and then, she'll pick up a hand puppet to flesh out a scene. Or she'll plunge propless into a caricature - such as the cooing wife who allows her crass husband to undress, trim his toenails and throw firecrackers during a holiday dinner. In one amusing section, a brassy saleswoman on a TV commercial hawks an electronic device that allows women to detect oafishness in a potential partner before a first date.
Rodriguez is aptly deadpan when, directly addressing the audience, she outlines a taxonomy of doltishness: The trait encompasses 5,430 sub-categories, we learn, and they evolve continuously, like flu viruses. (This image of change notwithstanding, Denevi's minimalist set, with short classical columns and gold orbs resting elegantly on the ground, seems a tongue-in-cheek assertion that the play's concerns are timeless.)
Some of the scenarios showcased in "Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado" seem hackneyed (the "it's-not-you-it's-me" breakup scene, the husband who keeps an eye on a sportscast while having sex with his wife). But at a performance last weekend, Rodriguez kept a standing-room-only audience in constant guffaws.
"Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado" kicks off a two-part program that Teatro de la Luna has titled "Del Uruguay con Humor/From Uruguay With Laughter." In the second half, running March 17-26, performer Petru Valenski will headline in "A3vidos (Atrevidos/The 3 Rascals)," a musical revue.
Wren is a freelance writer.
Como Evitar Enamorarse del Hombre Equivocado (How to Avoid Falling in Love With the Wrong Man) Adapted by Jorge Denevi from Marcelo Puglia's book. Direction, set and lighting design, Jorge Denevi; costume, Nelson Mancebo; music and sound, Alfredo Leiros.
The full moon appeared the biggest and brightest in 20 years last weekend when The 3 Rascals (A3vidos) performed at Teatro de la Luna. The moon in its orbit arriving at its closest point to the earth took part in a happy coincidence.
Laughter like a healing balm spilled throughout Teatro de la Luna’s black box theater. Who gets these results? Distill his name in your mind - the spectacular Petru Valenski, the charismatic lead actor/comedian of The 3 Rascals, assisted by pianist/trumpeter Fabián Silva and singer/dancer Danilo Mazzó, who brings the Peruvian cajón drum to life. The trio performs Café Concert, rioplatense style, as they do in Montevideo. It is carnival time and the style is expressive and over-the-top, drawing upon poetry and songs. Even musician Silva’s face shows emotional involvement, as he does double-takes while playing the upright piano.
They are slapstick, they are burlesque, and they are laugh-out-loud funny.
They are from Uruguay and in performance through Saturday at Teatro de la Luna in Arlington. They are called "Atrevidos," or "The 3 Rascals," and with their bawdy and transgressive flair, suggestively layered with broad winks and double meanings, they are certainly not for the innocent or anyone under 15.
But they are funny beyond words, and much of their humor is physical, through dress (and I do mean "dress," including makeup, wigs and high heels), in sultry dances and songs, and in sometimes-improvised segues in rapid-fire Spanish (immediately dubbed into English over earphones), when the jokes range far and wide, sometimes high and certainly low.
It's a cabaret-style show based on songs by Nacha Guevara, which are launched into the universal language of comedy and the human condition by drawing from the particulars of the culture, in sharply-drawn class and gender specifics, of the small South American nation of Uruguay and its cosmopolitan capital of Montevideo.
From Montevideo -- and its comedy clubs and drag stages -- come these three distinctive rascals, led by the head rascal himself (or herself), the self-styled, bewigged, beloved and always bewitching songstress and entertainer "Petru Valenski" (aka Fernando Enciso). The show, put together for Petru and his two comic sidekicks, is a gem of geniality and a risqué romp of music, dance, satire and sexuality, skewering mores and morality, leaving the helpless audience entranced, enchanted and in stitches.
Uruguay's special brand of festive comedy, dubbed "rioplatense" for the nearby border estuary of the Rio de la Plata, is a style aptly illustrated by "The 3 Rascals," says Mario Marcel, founding artistic director of Teatro de La Luna, who was born in neighboring Argentina.
Marcel says simply that "the country's light shines brightly," calling Petru Valenski "a master comedian," a brand that Valenski shares with his two younger amigos, including the hilarious, vamping dancer-singer Danilo Mazzo, who last year joined with Valenski to become a member of the cast of "Boom Diosa," a renowned Montevideo musical revue.
Mazzo is eye-catching, whether dressed in masculine black and tickling the ivories as a talented pianist while accompanying Valenski, or mincing about the stage in tight dresses and bright colors, or as a teenage boy driven by his urges, who is allegedly Valenski's slacker son. Equally talented, though playing more the straight man and mainly at the piano (though also making impression with the trumpet) is Fabian Silva, whose often wide-eyed reactions to the other two is a tell-tale commentary of incredulous mugging, both in shock and sometimes awe at what he sees from the other two's high jinks.
Consider this show to be a do-not-miss. Soon it will be gone, and you will have to travel to Montevideo to catch an evening as full of life and laughter as this one.