The world premiere of Juan José Alfonso’s “An Educated Guess” at the Definition Theater offers a welcome perspective on our broken immigration system and addresses important moral questions, but the 90-minute (or so) single act is still a work in progress.
This is Alfonso’s first play, written after his 20 years as a media executive, and has been in development with Definição since 2018. He has said in interviews that he based it on his own immigrant experience, but on the fact that the kidnappers from September 11th everyone who had been approved for visas at one time or another probably figured too. The most recent immigrant surges and border crises do not.
Set in Manhattan a few years after 9/11, when the wounds are still fresh, “An Educated Guess” centers on Alba Guerrero (Claudia Quesada), who served in the army and is now associate director of the office of immigration and naturalization. . An immigrant herself — coming from the Dominican Republic as a child with her family — she is a rising star in line to become the new district director.
Alba follows the rules and is stricter than her subordinate Nilda Jackson (Maya Vinice Prentiss). His bureaucratic inflexibility is evident in the cruel treatment given to Father Romelio Ospina (Miguel Cohen), a Colombian priest who requested a visa to take care of his flock in New York. Although she eventually gives him limited approval, the interview makes clear the arbitrary nature of a process subject to human fallibility.
Then one day, while listening to the news reports punctuating the action, Alba recognizes a name and, after consulting her old files, confirms that an immigrant she let into the country in 1997 – Bogdan Markovic (Mehmet Can Aksoy) – has been arrested. for the mass murder of children at a Boys and Girls Club.
Alba is consumed by guilt and, believing that Markovic was seeking revenge specifically against her, becomes obsessed with finding out why he blamed her. She is also afraid of losing her job. Her whole life is turned upside down, and even her supportive but sick mother Teresa Guerrero (Ana Ortiz-Monasterio Draa) can’t reassure her. She quits her job and goes to work cleaning and cooking for Father Ospina, who has always offered his help, although she has repeatedly refused and is not religious.
Interspersed between the two-person scenes between Alba and the other characters narrating her ordeal are monologues from more than half a dozen immigrants from around the world and from a variety of socioeconomic strata, all played by Carina Lastimosa and Dylan Rogers. Some appear to have a connection to Alba’s family, such as the 56-year-old Hasidic owner and the young man who works as Teresa’s caregiver. Others range from a Ghanaian woman who gets nervous when passing the immigration line at the airport to a wealthy Australian banker who can’t understand the INS’s incomprehensible paperwork.
While Alfonso’s desire to include a broad spectrum of immigrant issues is understandable, these monologues detract from the main story a little more than they contribute. It doesn’t help that Tyrone Phillips’ direction goes out of its way to rescue these characters from being stereotypes, especially since most of their accents need work.
Despite Quesada’s blunt and tormented performance, I also found it difficult to fully accept Alba’s reactions to her moral crisis. If her guilt simply stems from the belief that she could have prevented the tragedy if she had followed her instinct that something was wrong with Markovic, despite the lack of any evidence in her interview, that could make sense. But she is so convinced that his murderous rampage was all about her – even though it occurred eight years after she granted his visa – that she seems paranoid.
Congratulations to the cast for making this work thought-provoking and engaging and to the design team for staying out of the way.
