Review: A heartbreakingly beautiful ‘GUAC’ at Kirk Douglas Theatre
- Mayank Keshaviah
- 51 minutes ago
- 4 min read
“When you lose a son, what do you do?”
This urgent and gut-wrenching question rang in the ears of writer Manuel Oliver from the moment his son Joaquin (nicknamed “Guac”) was murdered in a 2018 mass shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Fla. It’s also the opening line of Manuel’s solo performance dedicated to Joaquin, which, layer by layer, begins to provide the answer.
From the top of the show, Joaquin’s presence is front and center: bright yellow block letters splattered in paint spell out Joaquin’s nickname and dominate the stage. As we quickly learn, the paint splatters reflect Manuel’s street artistry, which he showcases in real time during the performance. The splatters also festoon the pair of bright pink sneakers Manuel wears, shoes that once belonged to his son.
The importance of family to Manuel is clear from the life-sized portraits of each member he shows to introduce them. As he does, he describes how he fell in love with his wife Patricia, how they immigrated to the U.S. from Venezuela, and how they ended up living in Florida. He naturally focuses the narrative on his relationship with Joaquin, sharing memorable father-son-bonding moments like eating popcorn slathered in butter at the movie theater, debating the hierarchy of guitar legends of rock music and coaching Joaquin’s basketball team.
While relating the story of a verbal altercation between Joaquin and a referee during one of the team’s games, Manuel reveals the origin of “Change the Ref,” the name of the organization Manuel and his wife started after Guac died. It was originally a plea for fairness from Joaquin, and an opportunity for Manuel, despite his inexperience and self-professed lack of skill as a coach, to stand up for his son. In the years since Joaquin’s murder, it has become a nonprofit through which Manuel and Patricia honor their son by amplifying and supporting youth efforts to shift America’s social response to gun violence.
Audience members experience Change the Ref’s efforts firsthand as, in a brilliant use of the entire theatrical space—including the hallways, theatre lobby and front patio—the show’s producers have set up art installations, video displays and interactive games to educate and inspire the theater’s patrons to take action. One of the more creative pieces in this exhibition titled “DEMAND” is a roll of toilet paper with Tweets about mass shootings from mostly Republican members of Congress printed on each sheet. As the display’s caption states, when it comes to preventable gun violence, the only use for “thoughts and prayers” is to wipe your ass.
Manuel and the co-creators of the show—which has been produced at Chicago’s Greenhouse Theater Center, The Public, Woolly Mammoth Theatre and 1st Stage, among others—have designed the entire experience to be as interactive as possible. During the show, Manuel encourages audience members to take out their phones, so that the message can travel beyond the walls of the theater. Even the show’s program folds out into a poster with the slogans “Stricter Guns Laws Now” and “Take The Stage” emblazoned in large letters on the back.
On opening night, Manuel suggested that audience members take those posters to the No Kings protest the next day in front of Culver City’s city hall, across the street from the theater. As an attendee of said protest, I witnessed Manuel take his activism back into the streets, and the show’s yellow school bus, currently parked outside the Kirk Douglas Theatre and part of the show’s nationwide tour, also drove by cheering protestors on Oct. 18.
But that was hardly Manuel’s first rodeo. In the play, he relates how he once stood outside the White House for more than two weeks trying to get a meeting with President Joe Biden. It wasn’t until he scaled the construction crane across the street from the Oval Office that he finally found himself inside it, face to face with the Commander in Chief.
In these ways, Manuel exemplifies the slogan emblazoned across his black t-shirt: “We Are The Ones We’ve Been Waiting For.” As an activist first and actor second, he frequently pokes fun at his lack of polish, such as having the show’s outline taped to the floor of the stage, so he can glance down to keep himself on track. Manuel never takes himself too seriously, and in that way, brings humor and warmth to a subject so deadly serious and tragic. He also has a knack for going off-book and improvising moments of audience interaction, such as when latecomers enter the theater, or someone’s phone alarm goes off. And his comic timing, genial manner and winsome smile make it hard to take your eyes off him.
It's exactly the type of attention that the memory of his son and the issues he highlights deserve.
“GUAC” continues through Nov. 2 at the Kirk Douglas Theatre, 9820 Washington Blvd., Culver City, with shows Tuesdays through Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 1 p.m. (as well as 7 p.m. on Nov. 2). For tickets and other information, visit CenterTheatreGroup.org or call the box office at (213) 628-2772. Run time 105 minutes with no intermission.
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