John Leguizamo has been successfully doing one-man shows (Spic-O-Rama, Mambo Mouth, etc.) for thirty years, thanks to his writing and performing skills. A large, charismatic presence on stage, he knows how to capture and hold an audience’s attention—and make it laugh and, on occasion, shed a few tears. All of his many gifts are on display at the Ahmanson, where he has just opened in a new solo show, Latin History for Morons, well-directed by Tony Taccone. Actually, the show is five years old and has had productions at Berkeley Rep, La Jolla Playhouse, and The Public Theater. It was also seen on Broadway and over PBS-TV. Now on a national tour, Latin History has been well-honed over time and is performed confidently, even explosively, by Leguizamo, who has won two Obies, one Emmy, and three Drama Desk awards in the past. The show strikes a balance between education and entertainment. Leguizamo wrote it as an attempt to understand his own history as a Latino and explain it to his 12-year-old son who was being bullied and racially profiled at his private school. “I wanted him to fight the bullies with words and information and facts,” he said in a program note. “So I started doing a lot of research and the thing that happened was I was the one being un-moronized and de-stupified and un-dummificated. I was the one who felt more empowered.” Thanks to books like “A People’s History of the United States,” “Born in Blood and Fire: A Concise History of Latin America,” and “1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus Created,” Leguizamo discovered things about his own heritage and history that had been left out of his school textbooks. Having always felt so “othered and second-class,” it was a life-changing shock to learn “of the incredible amount of Latin contributions to America and the world.” Those contributions included the vast, rich, sophisticated societies of the Aztecs and Mayans, (slaughtered by the conquistadors); the Cherokee tribe’s bill of rights (plagiarized by Jefferson); the tens of thousands of Latinos who fought in the Revolutionary War and the Civil War; the fighters for democracy and civil rights like Bolivar and Zapata, and on and on. Writing on a huge, reversible blackboard, quoting from books and speeches, calling up the music, songs and dances of his people, Leguizano takes command of the Ahmanson’s huge stage and never loses control of it, barking his lines out, sometimes in anger and protest, other times with pride and triumph, making sure to always lighten the polemics with satire, humor and laughter. Leguizano also manages to keep an important through-line going: his attempt to reach his son, be a good, loving father to him. It is this difficult struggle that gives Latin History for Morons its universality, its humanity.
