I ask for forgiveness from my grandmother as I forgive her.
I ask for forgiveness from my mother as I forgive her.
I ask for forgiveness for myself and I ask for the strength to let go.
Arturo Luíz Soria enters as himself, naked from the waist up and softly speaks some lines of poetry to his mother. ‘I am manga. I stand in the water and…’ Music plays loudly. He puts on a colourful summer dress and becomes his mother, sings loudly to Cher’s ‘Do You Believe’, getting half the words wrong. Then shouts ‘Oh my God, I love Madonna.’ Thus begins Ni Ni Madre.
Soria is an absolute tour de force as his camp, sassy, brutally outspoken Brazilian mother Bete. His energy, charisma and dynamism could entertain a stadium, and in this small Fringe theatre the audience are transfixed.
Ni Mi Madre, meaning “Nor my Mother” is written and performed by Soria and brilliantly directed by Danilo Gambini with great attention to pace – combining slow, quiet, tender moments with huge bursts of manic energy and hilarious camp melodrama. Soria shines in the role, strutting the stage with relish, his terrific physical comedy evoking a take-no-prisoners Brazilian diva, and his face elastic and hilarious as he channels his powerful opinionated madre.
Soria’s writing is as dynamic and inspired as his performance, with utterly hilarious lines. ‘Attention Deficit Disorder was invented by white people who don’t know how to control their children. In Brazil what we do with those children is give them a good WHACK over the head! No more ADHD! And depression is only for people who can afford to be depressed!’
Loud-mouthed Bete voices her opinions on her three husbands. ‘Number One was an inebriated Jew, Number Two an Ecuadorian Commie and Number Three a gay Dominican.’ And her numerous children: ‘My children came from my body and each one of them represents a different body part. My daughter is my appendix… you don’t know what they’re there for, they’re completely useless and if they burst you’re f***ed! And Arturo is my heart – but the problem with hearts is they break easily.’
And, yes, it appears Soria’s heart has been broken by his mother repeatedly, as hers was also broken by her own mother who repeatedly rejected her because she had her father’s light skin. The sins of the mothers pass onto their children and Soria explores intergenerational abuse with insight, forgiveness and compassion, while still portraying his mother unflinchingly. At one point after he’s annoyed her, he knocks on the door and when she answers she says, ‘Who are you looking for? I’m not your mother. Go and look next door.’
The genius of this theatre is that Soria plays for laughs and entertainment. His pain is inherent in the subtext and left to the audience to decipher. We can’t help loving the outrageously opinionated Bete while at the same time feeling sorrow for poor little Soria and his siblings for having to survive such a domineering mother.
Ni Mi Madre is wonderful theatre for anyone trying to come to terms with the complexity of intergenerational trauma, their abiding love for their parents and their flaws in parenting their own children. The production shines with wit, insight, complexity and humanity.
Ni Mi Madre will be performed at The Pleasance Dome in the Jack Dome until 26 August 2024.
