Modern life jolted by myth

The neighborhood women chatter as they sweep their sidewalks. There has been a disturbance in their part of East Los Angeles. The king of the area gang has been killed, and various forces are coalescing to fill the vacuum. So the neighbor ladies’ topic is power.

“Whose barrio is this?” one asks. Does it belong to the families who live there? To the gangs? To the police whose helicopters pass overhead? The women contemplate the gleaming downtown skyline in the distance. And scoff.

“This city with no center,” one says. “No heart,” adds another. “All border towns,” concludes a third.

The women sound like a Greek chorus, which is exactly what they are in Luis Alfaro’s “Electricidad,” receiving its West Coast premiere at the Mark Taper Forum. Inspired by ancient Greek myth and in particular by Sophocles’ “Electra,” Alfaro’s play layers compelling new context onto a story that, after thousands of years, continues to be passed along and has been similarly reworked into dramas by such modern-day writers as Eugene O’Neill and Charles L. Mee.

What particularly resonates in the ancient story is its study of power -- who has it and who doesn’t. It’s a theme that keeps showing up in Alfaro’s work as well, as he turns his experiences as a Latino from Pico-Union into such theater pieces as “Downtown” and “Bitter Homes and Gardens.” In so doing, he has proved uncommonly adept at telling the stories of outsiders who, lacking validation from without, must find it within.

Alfaro’s story begins about a week after the gang leader’s murder. An impromptu shrine has been erected in the cemented-over front yard of his home, a nondescript bungalow that, in Rachel Hauck’s design, has been stripped to its framework to reveal the activities within.

Electricidad (Zilah Mendoza), one of the leader’s daughters, keeps vigil at the shrine. Dirty and disheveled, she conducts imaginary conversations with her father and vows revenge on her mother, Clemencia (Bertila Damas), who barely bothers to deny responsibility for the murder. Clemencia now rules the house, so Electricidad is watched over by her paternal grandmother (Alma Martinez) -- whenever the angry, despairing young woman lets anyone get close enough to help, that is.

Emerging from the house now and again, Clemencia braves Electricidad’s wrath to try to explain her actions. Like Sophocles’ Clytemnestra, Clemencia killed for compelling reasons. Clytemnestra acted out of anger over the king’s sacrifice of a daughter during the Trojan War. Clemencia took action to free her family from domination, abuse and violence.

All of the children have been raised in their father’s gang life. Orestes (Justin Huen) was sent away for safekeeping and for private instruction (by his godfather, played by Winston J. Rocha) in gang leadership. Ifigenia (Elisa Bocanegra), the toughest of the bunch, racked up numerous arrests.

“Everyone forgets what a bully he was,” Clemencia tries to tell Electricidad about the dead patriarch. “He made us think that we couldn’t grow and change and make something better than what we are.”

In such plays as “Bitter Homes and Gardens” and “Straight as a Line,” Alfaro has written with particular empathy about women who, like Clemencia, are marginalized in a world that belongs to men. These women often are mothers, the backbone of their families. Yet rarely is their strength appreciated.

“Imagine us working together,” Clemencia tells her strong-willed daughter. “These hombres wouldn’t know how to deal with the both of us. They wouldn’t be able to ignore us.”

The performances, under Lisa Peterson’s astute direction, are slightly heightened, which contributes to an overall sense of portentousness. The costumes are similarly exaggerated, with the older women, for instance, overstating their femininity in tight, revealing tops and skirts, while the younger women favor gangsta wear: men’s flannel shirts or puffy ski jackets. The approach flirts with stereotype yet never loses its rooting in reality.

The dialogue -- in English, with generous sprinklings of Spanish -- races by, forcing theatergoers to listen carefully. Frequently the reward is a good laugh, as when Electricidad, in a virtual parody of tragedy’s high-flown language, says, “My grief is the match that fuels the fire of my revenge.” To which Ifigenia curtly replies: “That’s poetic ... but stupid.”

Then it’s back to business. In the awful circumstances engulfing this household, Alfaro synthesizes the stories of thousands of men, women and children trapped in cycles of poverty and violence. Lack of opportunity leads to frustration, which in turn sets off a fight for what little anyone can get his or her hands on. In the process, communities cannibalize themselves.

Through the grandmother, Alfaro speaks for many in saying “It has to stop. All these guns, all these drogas, that’s not who we are. Murdering our own, and for what?”

*

‘Electricidad’

Where: Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles

When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays through Fridays, 2:30 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2:30 and 7:30 p.m. Sundays

Ends: May 15

Price: $34 to $52

Contact: (213) 628-2772 or www.MarkTaperForum.org

Running Time: 1 hour, 35 minutes

Zilah Mendoza...Electricidad

Alma Martinez...Abuela

Elisa Bocanegra...Ifigenia

Bertila Damas...Clemencia

Justin Huen...Orestes

Written by Luis Alfaro. Director Lisa Peterson. Set Rachel Hauck. Costumes Christopher Acebo. Lights Geoff Korf. Music and sound Paul James Prendergast. Production stage manager James T. McDermott.