Average José
Jose throws fiesta for Latin music
Aurora Theatre gives an impromptu Spanish lesson early in its festive musical revue 4 Guys Named Jos & Una Mujer Named Maria. As José Cubano, producing artistic director Anthony Rodriguez tells “gringos” in the audience that if they need help with pronunciation, just ask someone to the left or right - because, his voice dropping with mock intimidation, “Latinos are everywhere!”
The joke tweaks anxieties over Latino immigration, but also speaks to both José’s content and its target audience. The musical offers a lighthearted overview of Latino song, focusing on its influence in mainstream American pop and its place in the hearts of Latinos in the United States. Having already founded the Spanish-language Teatro del Sol, Aurora continues to reach out to Latino audiences with José, a cheerful evening that may be a little too scruffy for its own good.
Four Latino gents - José Cubano, José Mexicano (Andy Meeks), José Boricua (Luis R. Hernandez) of Puerto Rico, and José Dominicano (Bradley Bergeron) of the Dominican Republic - all suffer homesickness in wintry Nebraska. To celebrate their musical heritage, they stage a show at a Veterans of Foreign Wars hall, only to discover that by some mix-up, instead of the “Maria” they’d hired to sing, they get a stranger with the same name (Denise Arribas). The show’s already started, and they just met a girl named Maria.
The cast and director Susan Reid embrace the idea that the Josés are enthusiastic amateurs. During the opening number, “Feel It,” they awkwardly doff their scarves and parkas to strike absurdly macho poses, a send-up of machismo not far removed from the unlikely male strippers’ dance in The Full Monty. They seem to intentionally strive for the overenthusiastic performance style of wedding singers or karaoke contestants.
Early on, the play expresses amusingly mixed feelings about Latino music stars. Arribas wears a fruity headdress for Carmen Miranda’s “I Make My Money with Bananas,” a tongue-in-cheek tune about the famed singer’s own stereotypical image. Similarly, a medley of crossover acts from Ricky Ricardo to Ricky Martin knows exactly how ridiculous one-hit wonders can be: A few moments with “La Macarena” gets the biggest laughs of the night.
Sometimes the humor builds to a sharp point. Hernandez sings the original, Spanish-language “Frenesi” like a Dean Martin-style crooner, while Meeks more closely resembles Jerry Lewis when he warbles the frivolous, Americanized treatment of the tune. But much of José presents silliness for its own sake. Rodriguez hilariously parodies a would-be Don Juan in “Besame Mucho (Kiss Me a Lot),” and the hombres engage in slapstick squabbling like the Four Stooges in “Es Mentiroso (He is a Liar).”
Hernandez wins audience favor with a naughty-boy leer like a young Peter Boyle. Though Meeks generates the most overexcited clowning, he unexpectedly provides the show’s most passionate singing in “Veracruz.” At times, Bergeron seems the odd man out. Though he has the fullest singing voice, he seems too much a veteran of formulaic musical theater, as if he’s not quite in on the joke like the others.
After the wall-to-wall whimsy of the first act, it’s hard to take José’s second half seriously, even though it downplays the comedy to conjure genuine nostalgia for the Josés’ homelands. Despite tight, spirited numbers like “La Manisera” and “Mi Tierra,” the sentiment feels too much like a pose as the Josés bid farewells with suitcases in hand. The sincerity feels similarly feigned when each actor serenades the leading lady with a different “Maria”-titled song.
4 Guys Named José & Una Mujer Named Maria provides a fresh alternative to golden oldies-style revues like Five Guys Named Moe. It even has a little educational value if you can’t tell salsa dancing from the merengue. More polish would give the show greater across-the-board appeal, but the sloppiness didn’t bother the woman sitting behind me, who sang along to nearly every song. Clearly José was speaking her language.