Haunting and Hallucinatory: Comala, Comala – A Review of Mexican Musical Theatre

If Juan Rulfo’s magic realist novel Pedro Páramo feels like a séance, then this music-theatre version by Mexico’s Pulpo Arts brings that sensation to life. Tightly packed in on three sides, audience members hold a shot of mezcal while they surround a stage barely big enough for the eight performers and their giant drums, accordion, fiddle, trumpet, and piano. Rather than a traditional performance, the story seems to emerge from the ether around them.

The narrative follows Juan Preciado, played by Stephano Morales, who promised his dying mother he would find his estranged father, Pedro. To fulfill this promise, Juan ventures into the ghost town of Comala, a place reeking of misery where the dead linger, unaware of how to leave.

In playwright Conchi León’s Spanish-language adaptation, the divisions between past and present blur starkly. Juan discovers his father’s dark history of depravity. Pedro Preciado is described as a man who “rose like unwanted weeds” to dominate Comala, bringing with him violence, rape, and sex trafficking. Even the seemingly innocent townsfolk were complicit as the moral decay spread through Comala. “It was the whispers that killed me,” Juan says enigmatically.

The production, based on an idea by co-creators Alonso Teruel and Alejandro Bracho, is surreal and dreamy, making it difficult to pin down. Each actor/musician takes on several roles, with one character represented solely by an animal bone. The performers don’t just act out the story; they drift and dream their way through it, adding to the hallucinatory atmosphere.

Pablo Chemor’s always-present music enhances this effect, featuring a spare, bar-room simplicity that sometimes evolves into full songs. This musicality suggests that even amidst the darkness and haunting, there remains a glimmer of beauty.

• At Zoo Southside, Edinburgh, until 25 August

Source: The Guardian