Comic look at lovesickness

Tom Titus

It’s only an hour and a quarter, basically an extended one-act play,

but “The Romance of Magno Rubio” generates enough energy to keep the

Laguna Playhouse well lighted for a month.

It also illuminates a period of California history unfamiliar to

most -- the time during the 1920s and ‘30s when migrant workers from

the Philippines were recruited for farm-harvesting chores up in

Steinbeck country, the area around Salinas.

“Magno Rubio,” however, is no “Of Mice and Men.” This play by

Lonnie Carter, adapted from Carlos Bulosian’s short story, takes a

decidedly comic approach to a common affliction of these Filipino

workers -- lovesickness. When you work in the fields for pennies a

day, you’re not in the best of all possible positions to encounter

available members of the female sex.

Thus, Magno Rubio, the play’s central character, courts a woman

whose picture he found in a lonely hearts magazine. But since he

neither speaks nor writes English, a more educated fellow worker

composes his letters -- even though he, like the other laborers, is

well aware that this dreamlike “Clarabelle” merely is playing along

to extract what little material wealth the unfortunate Rubio

possesses.

The five Filipino old timers, or “manongs,” who populate Carter’s

play, radiate the frustration of men at the bottom of life’s food

chain, deprived of the presence of women. Rubio (Jojo Gonzalez)

carries this discomfiture to another level, basically sacrificing all

he has to connect with a lady he’s never seen.

This could be heavy, even maudlin, but Carter laces his work with

savage humor and, under Loy Arcenas’ spirited direction, “Magno

Rubio” throbs with vitality. A much a musical as a straight play, it

is enriched with songs from the Old World and, for a time, even

progresses in rhyming couplets, Shakespearean style.

Gonzalez seethes with desire and determination in the title role,

reveling both with the others and as the butt of their pranks. This

unquenchable spirit propels the play through its circuitous route and

earns its title character the audience’s cautious support.

Art Acuna as Nick, the semi-educated worker who pens Magno’s words

of romance, comes off as instantly admirable, a conscience amid all

the rowdiness and bawdiness. Responsible for most of the latter is

Ramon de Ocampo as Atoy, a big, beefy bully who gets under the skin

of not only Rubio but each of the others, particularly when his bent

for larceny surfaces.

A particularly effective ingredient in this raucous and

rambunctious tale is gleefully supplied by Orville Mendoza, who

conveys Clarabelle’s messages, punctuated by castanets. Ron Domingo

is more influenced by Nick than Atoy, but contributed merrily

nevertheless.

This richly ethnic production is filled with chunks of Filipino

Tagalog dialect, supplied by Ralph B. Pena, which initially confuses,

but more often than not leaves little doubt as to what is

transpiring. Whatever language barrier exists is overcome by the

enthusiasm of the company members.

Director Arcenas also has designed the setting, an imposing

warehouse structure which includes a symbolic wire fence downstage,

possibly illustrating the limitations of the warehouse’s laborers. A

white curtain is pulled to mask our only glimpse of Clarabelle, in

silhouette, mimed by De Ocampo as Mendoza supplies the dialogue.

“The Romance of Magno Rubio” is, despite its abbreviated length, a

richly characterized picture of immigrant workers of some seven

decades ago and their limited opportunities for advancement. It’s a

rollicking, super-charged evening of edgy entertainment.

* TOM TITUS reviews local theater for the Coastline Pilot.