STAGE REVIEW : Culture Clash Dishes Out the Satire in ‘A Bowl of Beings’

The most inspired thing about Culture Clash, which is resurfacing at the Los Angeles Theatre Center, is its name. It defines our California society in the full tilt of its tumultuous transitions.

It also tells us who its three protagonists are, not by name alone--they happen to be Richard Montoya, Ric Salinas and Herbert Siguenza--but by cultural aggregation. They are being invented as they go, shaped by American television and the accident of being Latinos in a diminishingly Eurocentric society.

By repudiating, as they do, the term Hispanic (which only acknowledges Iberian roots) and reclaiming the word Chicano (which includes Mexican and Indio), they are redefining themselves in the image of Luis Valdez--as descendants of Aztlan, the Aztec name for the Southwest territory or “the land the Yankees stole.”

Well, it’s about time. At a Wednesday press preview for Culture Clash’s latest show, “A Bowl of Beings,” it was clear the group had not only found the worst pun in the world, but also found itself--its quintessence or, to mix it up culturally some more, its dharma or place in the universe.

More than ever, the vivid kind of comedy this trio delivers--part slapstick, part sloppy, part satire--harks directly back to the early El Teatro Campesino actos , created by Valdez in the huelga grape fields of the San Joaquin Valley at the start of the ‘70s, when funding for such projects came not from the National Endowment for the Arts but from the sale of an old car or two. It was exuberant art, unshackled, traditionless, inspired, self-affirming--and ready .

That is also the mood communicated by “Bowl of Beings,” a more integral and dramatically sophisticated piece than “The Mission,” Culture Clash’s first evening of comedy seen at LATC exactly one year ago. “Beings’ ” sociology is more focused, but its spirit is a ‘90s reissue of early Campesino, with the self-mockery and intellectual wedge “ ‘90s” implies. What once was raucous, raw and primitive is now raucous, radical and chic.

The nuances are significant. These guys or vatos , as they call themselves, are not Latinos but real Chicanos, “reared on tortillas, frijoles and Pop-Tarts.” Montoya introduces himself as “a Jewish comedian inside a Chicano body circumcised with a machete.” And in a mock-operatic skit about Don Colon (Christopher Columbus), Colon’s sons refer to the double-crossing Spaniards with an ethnic slur.

The intermissionless evening is divided into distinct sketches, from an introductory “La Vida Rap” in which we meet Montoya, Salinas and Siguenza, to a mild spoof of traditional Spanish dance (“Nuestro Amor”) and Salinas’ traumatic account of being shot and nearly killed by a 17-year-old gang member (moving but, at best, out of step with the rest of the show).

Those are the weaker segments, though by no means weak. Things really get crackling with the arrival of Che Guevara (a bewigged and bereted Siguenza). Che materializes in Montoya’s living room after Montoya tosses Juana La Cubana (the doll with magic powers that comes with Salinas’ Santeria kit) at a Guevara poster. Not only is their conversation on the altered state of the 1991 world hilarious, but Juana also works her miracles on Joe Montana’s game coming over Montoya’s TV set. It’s a wild ride!

Things wind up with an exceptional Montoya monologue (“I’m a postmodern Hamburger Helper man . . . trapped inside the Beverly Center”) and a skit entitled “Stand and Deliver Pizza (the Last Chicano Movie, 1992),” in which Salinas declares that “the secret ambition of every vato living out of the pachucata is to be a math teacher!” It concludes with a pizza rocket reaching for the stars.

Reaching for the stars is also what these three talented artists are doing--not just on stage, where their star is clearly in the ascendant, but on television as well, where they’re working on six episodes of a sitcom for Fox with Cheech Marin, “about three vatos from the Mission on a mission.”

Jose Luis Valenzuela, founder and director of LATC’s Latino Lab, has staged “Bowl of Beings” with plenty of dramaturgical swirl, sound and fury on a stage impressively designed by Gronk and at least as impressively lit by Jose Lopez. Gronk also did the costumes, though one wonders why he designed the facial makeup on dancer Lettie Ibarra (who ably accompanies the guys in many of their skits) to resemble underwater goggles. It’s a small complaint in a powerful demonstration of Chicano wisdom, art and wit.

“A Bowl of Beings,” Los Angeles Theatre Center, 514 S. Spring St. Tuesdays-Sundays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays-Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends July 21. $23-$28; (213) 627-5599). Running time: 1 hour, 50 minutes.

‘A Bowl of Beings’

Richard Montoya: Himself and others

Ric Salinas: Himself and others

Herbert Siguenza: Himself and others

Lettie Ibarra: La Muerte/Death

Alan Mandell: The Voice

A Culture Clash creation presented by the Los Angeles Theatre Center. Director Jose Luis Valenzuela. Sets Gronk. Lights Jose Lopez. Costumes Gronk. Sound Mark Friedman. Choreographer Lettie Ibarra. Stage manager David S. Franklin.