Las Reinas Chulas in their latest cabaret comedy

BY MARIA GALLUCCI
The News
Sept. 18, 2009

Dancing, shaking and strutting across the cabaret stage, Las Reinas Chulas sing their satirical, tongue-in-cheek renditions of the national "Vive México" tourism campaign, presenting the country's bitter truths with exaggerated dance moves and a hearty dose of satire.

In their latest project "Bailando con la más fea" ("Dancing With the Ugliest"), the four -woman Las Reinas Chulas comedy group present a series of hilarious vignettes, eccentric choreography and ironic musical numbers, debuting just weeks after their fourth anniversary of performances at the El Vicio Theater Bar in Mexico City.

The show, which kicked off Sept. 4, is set to run every Friday and Saturday night at 10:30 p.m. through the end of October at the Coyoacán-area cabaret club.

The women met years ago through common acquaintances at the University Center of Theater (CUT), and, upon discovering a clever chemistry between them, they began writing, producing and acting in shows almost exclusively in the El Vicio bar.

Actress Cecilia Sotres said that throughout their more than 20 different plays, the company has aimed to present itself with new challenges each time around.

"Dancing is new for Las Reinas Chulas, so in this case, we're making fun of ourselves in the way that we dance, which is very ungraceful. Cabaret and comedy always start by making fun of yourself," she said before the Sept. 11 presentation.

"I think we offer an intelligent criticism. The type of comedy that we offer here, for better or worse, is completely different than the others," she said.

Nora Huerta said that this play is a tribute to classic comedy reviews that combine sketches, dancing and musical segments. The expression "bailando con la más fea," she explained, is a Mexican saying used when something unfavorable happens to a person or group.

"Mexicans have always had to 'dance with the ugliest,' because we haven't achieved the country, the education, the institutions or the governments that we deserve," she said in a light but critical tone.

"Today in Mexico, we're almost at the point of celebrating our bicentennial, and we think these important celebrations are also a demonstration of the failure of an independence and revolution that fought for equality and equity among its citizens," she said.

Ana Francis Mor added sarcastically that the cabaret comedy aims to support the city and federal governments in their campaigns to promote tourism in Mexico.

"It took us a while to figure out how we could do it, but soon we thought up campaigns with messages like 'Come to Ciudad Juarez, where your women are sure to be killed!'" she mused, referring to the unresolved female homicides in the border city.

But despite the play's jarring criticism and harrowing allusions, Las Reinas Chulas are best known for their ability to make serious issues a laughing matter. And for non-natives, the cabaret piece is also an introspective look at how Mexicans view themselves and their society.

"Bailando" begins on a colorfully decorated stage, the steps lined with plastic agave leaves and the backdrop with legendary figures Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl atop their respective mountains.

The four women enter the stage covered in shawls, singing dramatically with an accordion played by music director Yurief Nieves. As they explain that they'll be offering a "portrait of the true Mexico," the actresses rip off their covers to reveal sexy lingerie, kicking off a peppy dance number resembling moves by U.S. pop star BeyoncAc and choreographed by Talía Loaria.

Sotres and Marisol Gasé remain on stage, detailing Mexico's darker side as if proudly selling éapulco's beaches to a group of prospective tourists. Clips from the genuine "Vive México" campaign commercials flash on the screen behind them.

Mor and Huerta soon take the spotlight, dressed in "china poblana" outfits, a traditional style of dress originally from Puebla that includes a blouse, shawl and long, puffy skirts. The women, however, also portray drunken vagabonds who through their slurred storytelling reveal accounts supporting Mexico's violent reputation, and who later break out into the cumbia-like "quebradita" dance.

In the following vignettes, Sotres and Gasé dress as hyper-macho painters reflecting ironically on public services like health, employment and education; later, the duo and Huerta portray anthropologists who comment on Mexican politicians while reviewing a tacky retro horror film.

Mor explodes into the scene with a neon green "rumbera" outfit for an energetic dance sequence, and, following a brief intermission, returns to the stage as a man hauling his wooden cross up to the bust of a patron saint. With clown-like makeup and plastic puppet arms, Huerta plays a miniature Catholic icon and questions the man's sexuality while attacking him with a dirty vocabulary.

The final scene brings all four women together dressed in gilded and bejeweled Aztec costumes, the ancient characters complaining about modern-day mishaps before breaking out in dance to the sounds of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" classic.

"[Comedy] is a fabulous tool," Sotres said before the show.

"Laughter becomes a vice - you laugh and you like it - only that this laughter is a sharp knife that cuts through to the heart. We're laughing about the misfortunes that are happening, but also at ourselves, because in the end, this is a criticism about our society."

Gasé added that, "Our job here is to make political satire. We address themes that come from the heart and churn our stomachs, but we try to do it in a humoristic way, understanding that humor is cathartic and helps us reflect on situations that matter to us."

"We believe that this 'creative resistance' can undoubtedly change Mexico," she said.