The story of immigrants in America is a rich and timeless one, the stuff of countless novels and plays. The latest writer to deal with that collision of cultures, values, and sensibilities is Cris Franco, a Mexican-born Angelino whose one-man play, ‘57 Chevy is now in its world-premiere run at Los Angeles Theater Center (LATC). Starring in the play is Ric Salinas, an original member of the famous comedy troupe, Culture Clash. Salinas is the ideal actor to breathe life into Franco’s monologue. He is not only the child of Latino immigrants himself (he was born in El Salvador) but has the star quality (charisma, skill) to capture and hold an audience’s attention.
‘57 Chevy is an autobiographical work which focuses mainly on Franco’s relationship with his father, a Mexican-born auto mechanic whose credo was “life is work and work is life.” A serendipitous piece of luck enabled him to leave his impoverished life in Mexico behind and to emigrate legally to the USA. This happened when a wealthy American woman, who was driving alone through Mexico, had her VW bug break down. Franco’s father, who just happened to be on the scene, fixed the woman’s car on the spot. So impressed and grateful was she that she called her husband, who owned a German-car dealership in L.A., and urged him to offer Sr. Franco a job.
Once he had his green card and had made a few bucks, the mechanic opened his own shop and set out to claim his slice of the American Dream, whose symbol was a ‘57 Chevy, bought new for a thousand dollars. The car, lovingly maintained and polished, was the heartbeat of the Franco family, the vehicle in which the youthful Chris, his three sisters and his mother were transported to south-central L.A. and the house that became their first home. The process of adjustment was challenging and difficult: learning a new language, trying to cope with puzzling rituals (Halloween, Thanksgiving). The playwright (and Salinas, of course) bring the family history to vibrant life, using humor to punctuate each episode, coax gales of laughter out of the audience, especially when a liberal amount of Spanglish is used to pepper the text. Ten years later, the ‘57 Chevy once again moved the entire family, this time to a tract house in the San Fernando Valley. It proved to be a traumatic experience for Cris: not only did he find the new house to be sterile and cold, he was the only Spanish-speaking kid in his high school. Again, the playwright has good fun with this fish-out-of-water experience, this struggle to assimilate into a larger, somewhat alien society. Cris’s ploy was to try and become even more “Valley” than everyone around him–and to take a shot at becoming an altar boy. ‘57 Chevy also gets into some larger social issues: the impact of the Viet Nam war, the assassination of JFK, the Watts riots. It makes for a richly textured story of the USA in the 50s and 60s, especially from the point of view of a Mexican immigrant family. The playwright’s portrait of his unlettered but proud and imposing father is a memorable one, made poignant by the realization that he owes all of his success in life to him. Though `57 Chevy is performed on a near-bare stage, director Valerie Dunlap artfully uses a few props plus video projection and music to make the play work well.
