There is something wonderfully endearing about an elderly person who no longer cares what others think. Though only 60, the “old man” in Irma Correa’s El viejo, el joven y el mar/The Old Man, the Youth, and the Sea, now running at GALA Hispanic Theatre, is Spanish philosopher Miguel de Unamuno (Horacio Peña). With little patience for dull or tiresome chatter, the headstrong writer speaks with wit, bite, and enough warmth to make the latter okay.
He’s pretty high spirited considering he’s technically in prison. It’s 1924, and Unamuno has been forced into exile after speaking out against dictator General Miguel Primo de Rivera.
Not that the sandy island of Fuerteventura is such a terrible place to be imprisoned. Unamuno eats lobster, sunbathes in the nude—much to the neighbors’ chagrin—and enjoys excursions to nearby villages. But as a no-nonsense general (Delbis Cardona) tightens his control on the philosopher-prisoner’s movements, Unamuno throws himself into planning his escape to France.
He writes from his room, trying to smuggle his critical articles and essays into the outside world. The Spanish language production may resonate with American audiences, as this world premiere opens during a time in which attacks on the media seem increasingly commonplace. But freedom of speech is not the main thrust of the production.
Censorship is as much a theme as love, friendship, memory, perspective, and the things we yearn for, regardless of how achievable they may realistically be. Unamuno’s young attendant, the lovably sincere and stupid Cisco (Víctor De La Fuente) dreams of becoming a bigtime whaler. An earnest admirer (Luz Nicolás) sails halfway across the world to liberate the pen pal who holds her heart. From his hotel room, Unamuno plots an escape that is becoming more complicated and fanciful by the day. But as his wife Concha (also played by Nicolás) asks, “is truth understood or lived?”
The entire production takes place in a sparsely decorated hotel room. A wooden cross hangs on the wall, blending in with the unvarnished walls and basic furniture. But under José Luis Arellano’s direction, a chair becomes a storytelling aid, a clever and charming way to illustrate tales from the sea.
Without brilliant costumes or an expensive, ornate set to lean on, the book needs to resonate, as this one does. Irma Correa’s script is beautiful as it is sharp, delivered brilliantly by this capable cast of four.
The only issue with a production that relies so heavily on dialogue, is you have to be able to follow it. Though surtitles help non-Spanish speakers enjoy the production, the English translations don’t always appear at the precise moment each line is being spoken. As a result, non-Spanish speakers may have to play a bit of catch-up when the timing is a bit off. The stimulating dialogue and introduction to a treasured 20th century writer make this production worth the extra effort.
The Old Man, The Youth, And The Sea runs through March 3 at GALA Hispanic Theatre, $48
