“Kiss My Aztec!”

John Leguizamo and Tony Taccone (Book)

Benjamin Velez (Music and Arrangements)

David Kemp, Benjamin Velez & John Leguizamo (Lyrics)

Berkeley Repertory Theater

Electricity sparks through the air as the arriving audience is already in full abuzz.  After all, big red balloons are bouncing off their heads and hands; a variety of Latinx music has heads and hips bopping and bouncing; it is Tony Taccone’s last show as Artistic Director after twenty-two years at Berkeley Rep; and tonight’s opening is a world premiere musical that he has co-written with his pal and Berkeley-fav, John Leguizamo.  With such anticipation and much pre-opening hype on the airwaves, the unspoken question on everyone’s mind is,  “Will Kiss My Aztec! be the kind of send-off Tony deserves to cap his legacy of Broadway-bound hits (Ain’t Too Proud, Amélie, In the Next Room, Passing Strange, etc.)?” 

Within minutes of the opening “White Men in Boats,” there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that Kiss My Aztec! is destined to be another Berkeley Repertory Theater smash-hit, a glorious send-off for Tony Taccone, and probably also on its way to the Great White Way.  A heavily-robed woman (Maria-Christina Oliveras) holding a staff topped with skull and jungle feathers raps about the cruel, Spanish invasion of the proud Aztec Empire in 1540 while below and all around her, Aztecs dressed in funky colored duds from maybe modern East LA, San Juan, or Bogotá dance to a heavy salsa beat and join in raised harmonies about the “conquistadors who melted our gold into history.” 

And suddenly we are in the midst of a story part-history, part-myth, and part-fantasy packed full of punched-up puns, outlandish jokes, and blue-color references – the kind that have gained stand-up comedian and playwright John Leguizamo such a loyal following.  The musical’s book (co-written with Tony Taccone) is also laced with multi-genre Latinx music representing everything from Puerto Rico’s reggaeton, Dominican Republic’s merengue, New York’s 1960’s boogaloo, Afro-Cuban salsa, and Argentina’s tango (among others) (music by Benjamin Velez).  The songs’ lyrics (David Kemp, Benjamin Velez, and John Leguizamo) and the book itself mix in ways always hilarious the New World Aztecs speaking with Old World “ye’s” and “doth’s” and the Old World invaders speaking often in ghetto street language with “yo” and “bro” mingling in with their own native accents. 

After several years of the Spaniard’s wide-spread pillaring and full-on attempt to obliterate the Aztec’s history, religion, wealth, and even the people themselves, Aztec leader El Jaguar Negro is ready to make one last-ditch attack on the viceroy’s near-impenetrable citadel in order to win back control of his people’s destiny.  But to do so, he needs all the right conditions: a prophesied blood-red moon and a ruby-red amulet that will open secret tunnels leading into the heart of the citadel.  The moon is starting to take on a pink hue, but the amulet is around the neck of the hated, Spanish viceroy, Rodrigo.

As El Jaguar Negro (Chad Carstarphen) prepares his warriors to set out for the citadel in order to be ready to invade once the moon turns red, his strong-willed, fearless daughter Colombina wants to come along; but she is told by her chauvinistic father, no.  Yani Marin introduces us to the unbounded determination of Colombina as first she raps and then sings in full, trumpeting voice “Don’t Tell Me What I Can’t Do.”  Words like “can’t,” “shan’t,” “won’t,” and “don’t” are not part of her lexicon as she asks, “Why can’t a girl enjoy” things like “slitting a throat instead of knitting a coat” or “whopping some asses instead of batting my lashes?” 

In the meantime, Pepe has no interest in joining in the invasion unless he can instead entertain the troops with his red and blue hand puppets, Machu and Pichu.  Joél Pérez uses Pepe’s knitted pals and his own great set of vocals to introduce himself as a “Punk-Ass Geek-A” who is “unique-a.”  Pepe also has a special (and very funny) skill to understand and transmit squawk-codes (i.e., a kind of jungle bird language) to a spy who has infiltrated the faraway citadel; and for extra kicks, he can tell jokes in wolf language that sends an entire pack yelping in wolf laughter.

Colombina sets out on her own to find a way to get that amulet off the neck of the viceroy.  She reluctantly allows Pepe (who has already told us that he is “going to be the chico who get the chica”) to come along.  (After all, he does know ‘squawk.’)  Along the way, the two discover there may be a possibility that Pepe may soon get his wish in terms of finding his chica as they slap knees and chests and stomp out a joint “Cave Rap,” declaring in bebop beat that together, “We gotta stop the occupation of our nation.”

But just as things are getting interesting between the two would-be conquerors of the conquerors, a white-mink-ed, white-booted Frenchman named Pierre Pierot arrives, declaring he too is on his way to the viceroy’s citadel.  Richard Henry Ruiz cuts the Latin rug in fancy step while snorting some coke and singing, “Everybody Needeth a Fixer,” adding “I got the elixir.”  Pierre brags he can fix anything, including a bride-to-be and daughter of the Viceroy who is refusing to marry the rich Spanish boy her father insists she do in order to save his bankrupt vault (having melted and spent all the local Aztec’s gold).  Pepe and Colombina see a chance to get into the fortressed citadel and soon figure out how to defrock the drugged-out Pierre, with Pepe now disguised as Pierre ready soon to wow the Viceroy with the only French he knows – words like “Crepe Suzette,” “ala mode,” and even “Chez Panisse” (sending the Berkeley audience roaring hearing their local, most famous restaurant mentioned).

Back at the citadel, things are not going so well for the broke viceroy, Rodrigo (Al Rodrigo).  He has already spouted off in song and platters of tapas how “No One Compareth to the Spaniards,” but he cannot come close to convincing his independent-minded daughter Pilar or her even-more-independent slave Tolima (whom he calls “Bulimia”) that marrying a soon-to-arrive Spaniard prince, Sebastian, is to be part of her future plan.  Worse, from his standpoint, is his delightful (to us, not to him) son, Fernando.  

Fernando is just too gaily preoccupied to be concerned about the possibly invading Aztecs.  In fact, Fernando (Zachary Infante) is more interested in finding a way to escape with the Catholic Cardinal and head of the local Inquisition, Reymundo,  (also played by Chad Carstarphen).  They only want to live the life and love together they describe in a hilariously danced and sung, “Tango in the Closet,” where the Cardinal ensures Fernando, “If the sun in pink, I can’t help but think … pink is ok … and God must be gay … Ole!”

Meanwhile, the contingent of Aztec warriors led by El Jaguar Negro head through the jungle toward the citadel.  They pray to the gods to “Make the Impossible Possible,” calling on some of Latinx’s African roots in a gospel number with warriors becoming robed choir members.  The rip-roaringly funny, irreverent song details the human sacrifices necessary to seek the heavenly blessings for the upcoming battle, including a willing and old Uncle Pablo, who joyfully sings, “I’m so glad to give my life; need another, take my wife.”  Later, when the soldiers and El Jaguar get closer to their mission and the “possible” that in the dark of night in fact now appears “impossible,” their gospel number becomes a blues-infused, Motown-sounding “Impossible Blues.”

As the moon turns its bloody hue, Pepe-now-Pierre Perot arrives at the Citadel with Colombina dressed in drag-king as his servant while El Jaguar Negro and troops approach the great walls.  Pilar and Tolima (now Pilar’s best friend and also the embedded Aztec spy) are plotting how to entice Pierre (aka Pepe) defrock Pilar of her virginity so the en route Prince Sebastian will reject her. Finally, the real and now-stripped Pierre Perot is about to find his way in underwear to the Viceroy’s abode.  As the multi-leveled stage fills with all these disparate residents, invaders, and envoys, the first act ends with a rousing, rambunctious “Shit’s about to Go Down.”

And that does not begin to illustrate all the wild and wooly songs and occurrences not detailed in Act One and still to come in Act Two.  Pepe instructs citadel guards to “keep it in your pants and dance” in order to cure all their STD’s in “The Abstinence Song.”  Desiree Rodriguez brings her deeply rich, full voice to bear as her Spanish-born Pilar dreams in the song “Dark Meat” of “interracial nooky,’ pining for a different kind of lover because “I crave of the dark meat and a flavor that is new.”  Colombina and Rodrigo join in a Latinx, 1940’s-sounding, crooning duet of “Spooneth Me” while Prince Sebastian (a second role for Zachary Infante) finally bursts Las Vegas style into the scene with a glitzy, sparkling “New Girl, New World.”  And there is a “Puppetry Slam” of insults against mothers, a love song between lovers who have “just a few more inches” until blissful fulfillment, and a climatic battle where thunderous jungle drums and a celestial symphony accompany all this “Aztec jungle porn” to change history as we have long been taught it.  Amidst most of the numbers is an eclectic display of Latinx dance moves and modes, choreographed to wow by Maija Gardos while also in each case, enhancing the storyline being told at the moment.

Tony Taccone himself directs his swan-song production at Berkeley Rep with an unabashed, comic flair and a penchant for boldly crossing boundaries into new, theatrical territories, bringing to bear in this final, world premiere all that he has acquired in his past decades of many examples of creative brilliance.  He is fabulously aided by a team who each has excelled in every respect.  Clint Ramos’ set design brings a modern urban feel of a Latinx bareo, exposing Peet’s Theatre’s massive brick walls and covering them in striking, eye-popping murals like one might see today in San Francisco’s 24^thStreet alleys.  His designed costumes mix Old and New World; sixteenth and twenty-first centuries; fact, fiction, and fantasy.  The lighting of Alexander V. Nichols is a myriad of spectacular effects on the stage’s floor, on the surrounding walls, and in the general atmosphere – all painting in illuminations, shadows, and spots a panorama of fun, surprise, and beauty.  Jessica Paz’s sound design brings the jungle into the audience’s aural presence, shakes us with rumbles and thunders, and ensures every line of rap and song are understood crystal clear.  Finally, Music Director, Conductor, and Keyboardist Kenji Higashihama leads an exposed, second-level band of five playing the music arranged by Benjamin Velez with all the many genres of Latinx performed in beats and blends perfect.

With its laugh-a-minute (more like many laughs a minute) book and songs that are every thing from X-rated to rib-tickling to awesomely inspiring, Kiss My Aztec! leaves its audience with a final message that the predominately white and probably well-off audience of Berkeley Repertory Theatre needs to hear loud and clear: “Clap your hands; work that tan because the world is getting browner.”  This celebration of Latinx history, culture, and music – most of which has too long been ignored in the world of The Great American Musical – is a must-see.  How can we not all leave both still laughing as well as extending more inclusive hands and hearts to welcome everyone of every color and background to the new world that is not only coming, but is actually already here.

Rating: 5 E, MUST-SEE

Kiss My Aztec!continues through July 14, 2019 in world premiere at Berkeley Repertory Theater’s Peet’s Theatre, 2015 Addison Street, Berkeley, CA.  Tickets are available at http://www.berkeleyrep.org/ or by calling 510-647-2975 Tuesday – Sunday, noon – 7 p.m.