Theatre Journal

Carmen Pelaez’s The Cuban Vote demonstrated just how vital regional theatre is and how well it is able to reflect the realities of local communities and the sociopolitical discourses they sustain. Inspired in equal measure by the international attention Miami’s Cuban American community garners every election cycle, William Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew, and the snappy writing of Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing, Pelaez’s play buzzed with urgent energy and left the audience pealing with laughter at jokes that lampooned the three-ring circus that is Miami’s political scene. But just as the retort “Fidel Castro is dead”—delivered deadpan by the play’s main character, Carolina Clarens (Carmen Pelaez) when she was being interviewed by a right-wing, Spanish-language radio host—sent shudders through the audience, The Cuban Vote takes everyone to task for the political mayhem of the last twenty years. Liberals, conservatives, candidates, political consultants, mainstream media, social media, naïve Cuban Americans nostalgic for pre-Castro community, cynical Cuban Americans who are “over the whole Castro thing,” and every disengaged Miamian in between are all held to account.

Carolina is an intelligent and wonky candidate for mayor of Miami-Dade county. Despite having managed the office of a former mayor, who also happens to have been her father, Carolina is faltering in the polls. With a skeleton crew consisting of her seen-it-all mother, Ofelia (Evelyn Perez), and social media influencer sister, Blanca (Marcela Paguaga), the campaign needs help. Blanca’s boyfriend, the obnoxiously charming bitcoin bro Benji Carbonell (Kristian Bikic), is eager to wed Blanca. But Blanca [End Page 87] has informed Benji that her mother won’t consent to the marriage until Carolina is elected mayor. Benji calls in a favor from a Miami native, Alex Mesa (Andhy Mendez), who has made a name for himself in Washington, DC as a slick political consultant. Benji pays Alex’s salary to ensure Carolina wins her campaign and Benji can marry Blanca. After Alex convinces another formidable candidate not to enter the race, he realizes how unlikable Carolina is. To offer voters a clear contrast between Carolina’s governing prowess and the clueless schmucks who usually dominate Miami’s political scene, he recruits a drunk viejo sitting at a bar, the scene-stealing Gilberto Ruiz (Jonathan Nichols-Navarro), to run for office. Gilberto—a character clearly inspired by the Christopher Sly lark at the beginning of Taming of the Shrew—believes he has what it takes to be mayor. The play soon amps up the didacticism as it serves up a cautionary tale with which we are all too familiar: experience, merit, and know-how are often overshadowed by superficial showmanship. Especially in a city as flashy as Miami.

Pelaez’s keen appreciation for the local vernacular of Miami’s Cuban American community not only makes for great jokes, it also underscores regional theatre’s ability to offer representation to communities that are often excluded from Broadway and from canonical theatre that is deemed to be representative of the American experience. As The Cuban Vote makes clear, political machinations, ambitious individuals, and falling in love, may be universal, but the way in which these themes are expressed have more power when the audience feels a visceral connection to them. For example, a popular meme riffs on how Hispanic communities will take someone’s insecurity (big nose, skinny, red-headed) and make it a loving nickname (narizón, flaco, peliroja, respectively). The double-edged sword of such nicknames is on display in The Cuban Vote when Gilberto continually disparages Carolina by calling her “la gorda” (the fat woman) during interviews. In response to a debate question about climate change and rising sea levels, Gilberto’s anti-intellectualism is subsumed by his callousness: “Let the seas rise. I float! [To Carolina] Especially...