‘Laughs in Spanish’ review: Art Basel heist leads to outrageous comedy

Theater review

A crisis is a-brewing in a Miami art gallery — and during Art Basel Miami Beach, no less — before the lights even come up on Alexis Scheer’s fast-paced, one-act comedy “Laughs in Spanish,” running at Seattle Rep through May 17. 

The night before opening her gallery’s big show during this elite art fair, an expensive schmooze-fest that brings in wealthy, influential art figures from around the world, Mari’s gallery is robbed. Even though the artist, Marco Diaz, is rumored to be a pendejo, the loss is a huge blow. Wealthy collectors are coming through the gallery tonight. What is Mari supposed to show (and hopefully sell) them?

“Laughs in Spanish” is billed as part telenovela and part whodunit, but it clips along more like a sitcom, filled with hammy one-liners and blessed with a level of silly self-awareness (“Did you stop painting because I’m a narcissist?!” a mother asks her daughter) that soap operas often lack. And the robbery, after it catalyzes the show’s action, becomes more or less an afterthought, so the whodunit aspect fizzles. Who cares what happened? What matters is what they do next.

As Mari (Beth Pollack) scrambles for a solution, her old friend and current gallery intern and MFA painter Carolina (Diana Garle) and Caro’s cop boyfriend Juan (Gabriell Salgado) are on the case. While Juan hunts for the stolen art, Caro volunteers her paintings to fill in for Diaz’s show. Will Mari take her up on it? 

If all that wasn’t enough, in swoops Mari’s drama queen movie star mother Estella (Diana Burbano), with whom she has a very complicated relationship, and who may have motivations for showing up that aren’t just supporting her daughter. (Yes, Estella is the narcissist mom.) Rounding out our cast of characters is Estella’s assistant, whose name she finally remembers after going through the litany of white girl names of her recent assistants. This one is Jenny (Cheyenne Barton).

Directed with palpable joy by Rep Artistic Director Dámaso Rodríguez, who’s aided by a universally charming cast, the show’s stakes ratchet higher and comically higher: The catering goes missing! Someone is pregnant! Someone proposes! Someone rekindles an old love affair! Someone’s the thief! Someone else might go to jail for reasons I won’t spoil for you!

Some of the night’s biggest laughs came from the endless code switching — to peppy, bland, white-girl voices — both Mari and Caro do when answering the gallery’s telephone, and even for an Amazon Alexa, who refuses to respond to the command “play salsa” when asked in a Latin accent. And the new outfit Estella insists Mari wear during the gallery’s opening night party had the show’s opening-night audience howling. Costume designer Danielle Nieves nailed both a bizarro art-world aesthetic and Estella’s inimitable taste that’s gently steeped in 1980s Miami.

Much like a sitcom, the show’s more emotional moments don’t always land rhythmically or energetically, serving more as speed bumps for this runaway comedy train rather than moments of calm within the storm. That’s a shame, because some of the bigger questions this play asks — especially about the sacrifices of women artists, as well as who artists are really serving in a ruthless capitalist ecosystem — possess real resonance. But Scheer doesn’t seem interested in digging very deep into the questions she poses; she just lobs them in like teensy thought grenades and then moves on to more laughs. And who can blame her? The laughs are why we’re here, and they’re worth it.