Review: NI MI MADRE Unpacks Motherhood with Humor and Grace at Diversionary Theatre

Mothers: the never-ending source of trauma, character development, personality... and love. Or, at least, the version they say they give and the other version of what you actually felt as their kid. These themes, and more, are explored in Ni Mi Madre, the Obie Award-winning one-man show written and performed by Arturo Luís Soria, currently playing at Diversionary Theatre through September 6.

In this play, which premiered Off-Broadway at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater in 2021, Soria embodies his mother, nicknamed Bete, a strong-willed, impatient, but big-hearted Brazilian woman attempting to avoid becoming her cold, mean mother. Instead, she stumbles through her own approach to motherhood, including getting married three times, physically abusing her children, and drinking... heavily.

But although the themes are deeply emotional, Soria's comedic timing, both verbal and physical, provides much-appreciated relief. It reminds us that even in the darkest times, humor can be important, and that how we choose to use it matters. Soria does exactly that with his own upbringing, sharing painful memories without allowing humor to become an excuse to sugarcoat the abuse. He allows us to sit with those uncomfortable parts of Bete's story. We laugh at her larger-than-life personality, her stories, her outrageousness... and then we are reminded that this woman also hit her children. It is uncomfortable, and intentionally so.

In this West Coast premiere, the set, designed by Stephanie Osin Cohen, immediately transports us into Bete's world, with a lush, tropical atmosphere and a floor reminiscent of the famous Ipanema sidewalks. Anthony Garcia's props fill the space with plants, photographs, religious imagery, and other personal mementos that make Bete's world feel lived-in. Krista Smith's lighting adds gorgeous deep papaya oranges, bright yellows, and "persuasive" purples, as Bete calls them, shifting the atmosphere as Soria moves between memories and generations. And Danilo Gambini's direction keeps the play moving, allowing Soria room to move between characters, dance breaks, and emotional extremes without losing the thread or the rhythm of the story.

Bete is portrayed as messy, dramatic, hilarious, frustrating, sensual, unapologetic, loving, and, at times, deeply difficult to watch. We are laughing at a woman who is sharing stories about her own life while simultaneously revealing the ways in which she has hurt the people she loves, knowingly and unknowingly. Soria embodies this woman—his own mother—so completely that I occasionally forgot, and perhaps others did too, that it was Soria playing her. There is something that feels cathartic about watching Soria play his own mother. But I left wanting to hear from Arturo in his own words.

It's his story, ultimately, because there is no separating Arturo's upbringing from his mother's. They were, in many ways, growing up together. Arturo is everywhere in the story, but always through Bete's eyes—or at least through the version of himself that Soria imagines she saw. Through this version of her, we learn about the child she raised, the son she calls her "heart," and the queer child who challenged her. 

As a mother myself, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of baggage I might be leaving my child. What will he say about me, and about his childhood, when he's older? Will he tell my story, which is also his, and will I recognize that version of it? Is it even my story to tell anymore?

Ni Mi Madre is also a deeply personal immigrant story, one about what happens when chasing a dream or reinventing yourself means also leaving pieces of yourself behind, for better and for worse. It is about family, identity, grief, expectations, and the complicated ways that immigration can reshape a family. It is also about what happens when children born into different cultures and ethnic backgrounds can become the “other” in their own homes, especially when a child doesn't resemble their parent and those differences become a source of jealousy, resentment, or even distance.

At only one hour, with no intermission, Ni Mi Madre could have easily gone another 30 minutes, especially at the end, and I, along with the audience, would have watched without complaint. That's how engaged Soria kept us with his sharp writing, humorous scenarios, and emotional stories of his mother's and grandmother's past. 

Reader Reviews

To post a comment, you must register and login.

Need more San Diego Theatre News in your life?
Sign up for all the news on the Summer season, discounts & more...

Get San Diego Emails & Offers

Get the latest news, discounts & more