‘Our Dear Dead Drug Lord’ @ Second Thought Theatre
—Martha Heimberg
“Ritual is important,” says the president of the Dead Leaders Club at their monthly meeting in a spacious tree house in her backyard. We hear a kitten meowing in a cardboard box, as the other three members set up for a séance to name the newest member. Whoa.
In Alexis Scheer’s Our Dear Dead Drug Lord, directed by Ruben Carrazana at Second Thought Theatre, four teenage girls hover over a Ouija board, their faces somber in the light of electric candles. They spit on their hands, press their fingers together and summon the spirit of Pablo Escobar, the ruthless Colombian narcotics dealer whose smiling prison mug shot hangs on a poster behind them. They even pass a Ken doll dressed like Escobar hand to hand, as if it were the holy grail. The play, which premiered on Broadway in 2019, takes place in 2008 Miami, where the playwright grew up. That Florida port has been the source of scary vibes for a while.
As we watch the story develop, we ask why these private school girls are so fixated on rousing this murdered ghost, also referred to as “our savior”? Where do their ideas about sacrifice come from? Do their intensely ritual seances somehow justify the cruelties they exact? These questions—stirred in with issues of women’s rights, sexual identity, racism, suicide, self-abuse, abortion and criminal celebrity—are placed squarely on the shoulders of four characters, all named by the séance method. The girls are racially diverse, and all have survived one or more traumatic events in their lives. Misery loves company, and that’s what this club is about.
The first-rate ensemble is totally up for the heavy lifting and tense direction of the realistic dialogue in this 105-minute show, played without intermission. The all-talk-at-once moments are true and funny. When issues pile on issues toward the end, however, there’s nothing left for any actor to do but yell into the headlights. That’s tough on everybody in the theater.
The show revolves around Pipe (a perfectly witchy, domineering, humorless Angela Maria Ramos), the club president whose wealthy parents are Cuban-American Republicans. Her little sister drowned in their pool on Pipe’s watch, plus she’s trying to pretend she’s not gay, even though all the club members know it. Ramos’s Pipe, posture rigid and mouth tight from gritting her teeth, is fierce in her demands on both living and dead. Pipe wants supernatural help in getting the DLC reinstated as a real school club: they were kicked off the list because she insisted they research dead leaders with bad reputations, as well as good. Like, they already did MLK Jr., JFK Jr., and Gandhi. And they also may have used school funds to buy cocaine.
Squeeze (an elegant, unapologetic Alicia Antwine) is the sexy Black girl, proud of her Haitian-Puerto Rican heritage, as well as her male conquests. Her depressed father killed himself, and in the years since she’s mistrusted her mother’s choice of boyfriends. In honor of her father, Squeeze is teaching the others a dance she’s made up (choreographed by Danielle Georgiou) that includes a touching sequence of “dancing on daddy’s feet.”
Zoom (an eager, bouncy Alexis Ferrell) is the nerdy Jewish sophomore who is totally thrilled to be in any space with all these seniors. She pretty much follows orders, no matter what. Excited to find out the new member is from Colombia, she invents a series of backgrounds, incidents and predications about the future. She tells her more experienced clubbers that she may be a virgin, but she’s still gotten herself pregnant. Farrell’s Zoom times her lines perfectly, and is part of some of the show’s most realistic teen-talk scenes. She adds some old-time comic panache, standing in for Squeeze’s current disposable boyfriend while the older girl practices her break-up speech. Zoom’s essential vulnerability becomes a terrible part of the show’s calculated and shocking last scene.
Kit (a lanky, confident, kind-hearted, tough Alysha Lynette Gonzalez) is the new DLC member needed to meet the numerical requirement for reinstatement as a legit school club. Her mother got to America while pregnant with Kit, so she’s actually from Colombia. That definitely gives her a leg up with a group that worships Escobar, and it doesn’t hurt that tense Pipe appreciates Kit’s calm style. Kit seems to know even before the audience does what more is expected of her to become a full-fledged club member.
What does it cost to summon spirits from the dead? The appearance of two unnamed and uncredited actors in the final scene attempts to come to grips with the nightmare evoked on the stage. One lengthy speech entirely in Spanish was lost on this gringa. A printed translation is available to pick up as you leave the theater, and the gist of the message is not a total surprise, given the shouting, terrible finale.
The productions values are spot on, as usual for Second Thought. Bob Lavallee designed the posh treehouse. Lighting designer Lori Honeycutt and sound designer Joshua Nguyen merge their talents to create a spooky séance atmosphere or a day-after clarity. Costume designer Whitney LaTrice outfits her schoolgirls in versions of private school uniforms or after-school comfort, depending on the character.
The list of content warnings says a lot. Read it and decide if you need to know more about four cruelly unhappy young women in Miami 15 years ago.
WHEN: June 21-July 8, 2023
WHERE: 3400 Blackburn (on the Kalita Humphreys campus), Dallas
