Early on in Circle Theatre’s production of The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity, the narrator and lead, Macedonio “The Mace” Guerra (Alex Rocha), bemoans the inability of the toy wrestling figures of his youth to tell stories because they were not posable. These figures, unlike their later articulating replacements, were static and one-dimensional and therefore could relay only the most basic narratives — a frozen stereotype. Their moves and abilities were limited by the way they were shaped from the factory. These non-posable figures become the metaphor the play utilizes to examine not only our stereotypes but also how stories in our cultures, the media, and our country writ large shape our perceptions and prejudices.
Though Chad Deity is the title character, the story is more about Mace and Vigneshwar Paudar (Prem Desai). Mace gets his nickname from Everett K. Olson, a.k.a. EKO (Brett Warner). A cross between Vince McMahon and a plantation owner, EKO owns the wrestling company for which Mace and Vigneshwar, and presumably dozens of other pro wrestlers, work. And work, they do. EKO can’t be bothered to learn Mace’s real name or understand his culture. He continually refers to him as a Mexican when, in fact, he is Puerto Rican. Mace is essentially a stuntman. He takes the fall for the wrestling stars. He is the only one in his company who actually loves wrestling and has any talent, but because EKO cannot sell Puerto Rico to the fans and cannot deem him a face or hero, Mace is left with no option but making faces such as American icon Chad Deity look good.
The real drama unfolds when Mace, hoping to tell new stories, recruits the culturally ambiguous Vigneshwar to team up with him, but this soon gets even more complicated. EKO, wanting a new villain or heel, casts the two as terrorists to oppose Captain America, Chad Deity.
Director Alejandro Saucedo and the entire production team do a fantastic job in portraying the bombast and excitement of wrestling in Circle’s black box space. Screens flanking the stage in the background allow the wrestlers to talk directly to the audience and capture their backstage antics, and the ring is well-crafted. The action and story remain focused and front and center. There is no wasted space or a bad seat as the cast frequently flows throughout the theater, breaking the fourth wall by inciting the audience, not unlike a real wrestling match. This is not your quiet, reflective production.
Kristoffer Diaz’s Pulitzer Prize-finalist script is funny, raw, insightful, and, at times, downright offensive (but done so in character-driven ways that highlight the absurdity of the players’ backward views). Rocha and Desai do a lot of the heavy lifting here, and both deliver excellent performances, as most of the pathos rests on their shoulders. The duo of Chad Deity (Nate Davis) and EKO provides the comedic respite that some of the heavier themes require.
Before taking my seat, I was already interested in how this play, which is set mostly in a wrestling ring, would be pulled off. Add in talk of these action figures and allusions to ’80s wrestling? Come on. I had those unposable guys, and I grew up watching wrasslin’ with my grandmother (yep, she was pretty awesome) after Johnny Carson. The theatricality and hypermasculinity of the sport can be alluring to young people (and, evidently, grandmothers). The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity lets us see this because the satirical technique of exaggeration already embedded in wrestling offers a perfect mirror to hold up to ourselves. As this play demonstrates, when we pull back the masks and metaphorically peel off the leotards, what is left is a reflection of our country and its values staring us in the face.
The Elaborate Entrance of Chad Deity
Thru Sat at Circle Theatre, 230 W 4th St, Fort Worth. 817-877-3040.
