'Lydia': Family tragedy with a touch of the supernatural

Octavio Solis' Lydia, currently receiving a forceful, unembellished treatment by Amaryllis Theatre Company, is often compared to an Arthur Miller American-dream-gone-awry family drama. But while it may rest on a similar framework, it owes an equal debt to the dark vision and supernaturalism of such Latino playwrights as Jose Rivera.

The harrowing tale of a Vietnam-era Mexican American family whose suffering and secrets are thrown into high relief when they hire an eerily intuitive live-in maid, Lydia takes a tortuous journey, its sudden twists arriving unexpectedly, much like the crash on a stretch of winding road that left narrator Ceci (Caitlin Elizabeth Reilly) in a semivegetative state on the eve of her 15th-birthday quinceanera celebration. Secretly, magically, Ceci assesses the tragic fortunes of her brothers, parents, and maid Lydia, likening them to cards in Loteria - a game that serves as both bingo and tarot - or mourns for pleasures she will never experience. When her visions end, she lies center stage on a propped-up mattress, limbs rigidly palsied, face contorted, as her family self-destructs around her.

Solis' script fairly bursts with the complexity inherent in depicting multiple characters straddling multiple cultures and existential states: There are Mexico, America, the documented and undocumented, straight, gay, locked in, bleeding out, the seamless blending of Spanish and English in every conversation. Director Josette Todaro lets the play spin like a whirlwind, building momentum and gathering grit.

Joe Guzman as the brooding, violent father, Claudio, has never been more imposing, while Johanna Carden's mother, Rosa, visibly softens and hardens with every revelation. And if Robert DaPonte, a strong but not knife-edge actor, is miscast as Rene, an angry young man with "hands full of middle fingers for the whole world," Mario Canavarro's sensitive Misha is soft enough by comparison to lend him an assist. Throughout, Anjoli Santiago's Lydia flows softly, her gentle touch a counterpoint to the family's conflicts.

Lydia is the first in a planned Flores family trilogy, but by the time the play reaches its controversial, disturbing finish, it's a solid bet that much of the audience will have had enough.

While it's true that some dramatic journeys are beautiful and others ugly, and that not everyone wants to pay for an ugly ride, what's perhaps most arresting about Lydia is that, like life, it is often both at once. In Solis' version of magical realism, magic is never as potent as reality.

Lydia

Presented by Amaryllis Theatre Company at the Playground at the Adrienne Theatre, 2030 Sansom St. Through April 23. Tickets: $10. Information: 267-273-9823 or www.AmaryllisTheatre.org.