At the Ent Center, Lloyd Suh’s ‘The Heart Sellers’ digs into the Asian American experience

Two powerhouse actors and a compelling script infused with humor make The Heart Sellers a must-see for the thinking patron. Running through Feb. 16 at The Ent Center for the Performing Arts in Colorado Springs, the Theatreworks production glimpses into the lives of two young Asian women in a chance friendship as they celebrate an often-hilarious Thanksgiving holiday.

Luna (Dri Hernáez) is a flamboyant Filipino, while Jane (Min Kyung “Cecillia” Kim) is a shy and quiet Korean woman. It is 1973 and both are recent immigrants who randomly meet in a grocery store. There, they discover a shared loneliness as the wives of medical residents working long and demanding hours.

The play’s comic start showcases an amped-up Luna encouraging Jane to let loose. Just channel Meg Ryan and the I’ll have what she’s having line to fully absorb the comic moments. The comedy amps up as the duo attempt to roast a frozen turkey while enjoying an appetizer of Cheetos topped with Cheese Whiz. Like sorority sisters at a slumber party, they drink (and spill) bad wine, share secrets, clothes, dance, sing — and cry.

Hernáez, in her debut performance with Theatreworks, lights up the stage with her comic timing, physicality and facial antics. With an MFA in both acting and directing, she ebbs and flows through Luna’s journey of happiness and heartbreak.

Another Theatreworks newcomer well-known on Denver stages, Kim’s craft is showcased in her character’s transformation. Stunned and silenced by Luna’s larger-than-life personality, eventually her sleeping thoughts are awakened, and she emerges strong and resilient.

Min Kyung “Cecillia” Kim, left, and Dri Hernáez in the Theatreworks production of ‘The Heart Sellers’ at the Colorado Springs Ent Center. | Photo: Theatreworks

The Asian American experience

As their cultural divides surface, so do commonalities about the timelessness of the immigrant experience. Luna, Jane and the audience feel it: Asian Americans have confronted a long legacy of exclusion and inequity. The dream of America comes at a high price: selling a part of their hearts in the process.

The play’s title isn’t so much a play on words as an obscure political reference that bears explaining. The Hart-Celler Immigration Act of 1965, named after the legislation’s sponsors, abolished a quota system that favored immigrants of Northern European decent. Until that change, laws remained discriminatory toward Asians.

Director Jenna Moll Reyes extracts the very best from her actors. The story — more a commentary than a plotline — speeds and then slows, intertwining the silly with the serious. Just two actors, many, many words, and a stagnant set might be a heavy lift for most, but this fine duo delivers.

A nod to costumer and scenic designer Debra Kim Siovigny who captured the ’70s décor and fashion spot-on. The multi-level set on a thrust stage with its kitchen and living room spaces fostered agile movement of the actors. The period radio was a nice touch as Luna fiddles with the dial amid static. We hear the voice of Nixon and his infamous I am not a crook line. Lost in a groovy mustard hue, we are transported back in time.

Playwright Lloyd Suh gets kudos for authenticity. He scripts both Luna and Jane to speak broken English, but at the cost of easy comprehension. A subtle screen appears far above the stage with all lines in English, Filipino and Korean but referencing it distracts. Yet, ignoring it sidesteps the dialogue’s impact.

As the two giggle and share a blanket on the futon, the play ends and the lights dim. We are back to the sleepover. Do they ever eat the turkey? At least we know they are full on friendship, as will be the audience in experiencing a new perspective on the immigrant experience.