BETC world premiere uses broad comedy to skewer the consulting class

Listen to any political podcast these days when they’re talking about “the Latino vote” and you’ll almost always hear a caveat along the lines of: “Of course, there’s no such thing as the Latino vote because it’s such a enormous category with many different elements.”

And they then proceed to talk about the Latino vote as if it’s a monolithic voting block.

That reality is at the heart of The Ballot Paola Aguilar, a world premiere comedy by Bernardo Cubría now up at the Boulder Dairy Center in a production by the Boulder Ensemble Theatre Company (BETC). Played by a fired-up Laura Chavez, Paola is a poli-sci professor specializing in ethnic voting trends, and she’s enlisted by “The Party” (i.e., the Democrats) two months before the election to address eroding support from, ahem, Latino voters.

Crisply directed by GerRee Hinshaw, it’s a fast-moving, endearingly funny comedy less interested in making profound observations about 2024 politics than it is teeing up jokes at the expense of the political power structure.

The Party is represented by a quartet of political consultants hoping that throwing lots of money at their token Latina will be enough to move the polls. This group is led by a particularly grating type of political animal named Kaj (Adam Schroeder). Clearly the veteran of many a cash-flush campaign, Kaj sees a solid line between money and outcomes and parades his white privilege like a flag. Paola’s presence on his team seems more like a checked box than a meaningful effort, and Schroeder deftly plays him as the WASP-y twit he his.

Layered atop all of this is a secondary plot concerning Paola’s decision to give up on fruitless relationships with men and get pregnant via donor. At the top of the show as she awaits her first interview with Kaj and Company, she’s scrolling through an app looking for sperm donors and enlisting the help of the audience to pick a winner.

actors onstage in a play

(L-R) Adriane Leigh Robinson, Adam Schroeder, Laura Chavez and Madelyn J. Smith | Photo: Mcleod9Creative

The sperm story

As the title suggests, this is Paola’s show, and Chavez grabs the audience in the first minute and never lets go. There’s no fourth wall for the character, and she regularly engages the crowd to get their thoughts on the action — particularly as it relates to her quest to get pregnant at 39. Ricocheting between the doctor’s office and the meeting room where the politicos argue over strategy, we sympathize with her as she gets hammered with medical bills for the procedure and battered in an office environment where no one at first trusts her instincts and expertise.

Hinshaw keeps things moving with the help of a clever, functional set by Brian Watson and extra-bright lighting design by Vance McKenzie that plays up the red, white & blue themes on the walls and floor. The political operatives fly in and out on wheeled chairs while multiple entrance points and playing areas quickly morph into a doctor’s office, a bathroom, etc.

The trio working for Kaj is initially portrayed as a bunch of blockheads scrambling to keep their jobs in the face of his constant anger and frustration. As Paola wins them over with charm and clear success in the campaign, Cubría fills in their characters somewhat. These include Bobby Bennett as the other brown character Bernard; Madelyn J. Smith as very-white Rebecca; and Adriane Leigh Robinson as mostly-white Nicola who leans into her father’s Cuban identity when convenient.

actor onstage in a play

Laura Chavez as Paola Aguilar | Photo: Mcleod9Creative

Campy bits

Rounding out the cast as every other Latino/Latina/Latinx/Hispanic/Latine character is Adrian Holguin. We’ve seen him lately on stage in the King Penny Golden Radio Hour, and here he employs his considerable vaudevillian chops to Irma-Vep his way through a series of character and costume changes.

While the pols are highly exaggerated types, those portrayed by Holguin veer more into camp. (Think gigantic syringes for IVF treatment, clown noses, outsized magnifying glasses and the like.) His scenes moved Ballot into a different kind of comedic territory that didn’t entirely match the rest. Cubría’s script at times felt like it wanted to say more but ultimately settles for a narrow outcome in the end.

But along the way he scored plenty of laugh-worthy hits on the collective wisdom of the chattering class as Paola effectively skewers the whole thing. Her immediate targets are easy marks but the play effectively nails some overarching points about who’s seen in this country on the political stage. Kaj and his ilk may not give a shit about Latinos or any others outside their bubble, but they also know a vote’s a vote and the end justifies whatever means it takes to get them.

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