Part of the Destinos Chicago International Latino Theater Festival, Jocey y las Mariachis takes a look at the internal conflicts of a Mexican-American woman caught between the expectations of her heritage and her desire to forge her own path. In the production, which concluded at the end of October and was presented by Visión Latino Theatre Company at the APO Cultural Center in Pilsen, South Sider Jocelyn Villa, playing herself on stage as “Jocey”, exposed some of the most personal struggles that shape who she is: her confusing relationships with her loved ones and with herself.
Co-written by Villa and Flavia Pallozzi, this one-woman show, accompanied by a live five-piece all-female mariachi (featuring Maria de Lourdes Sandoval on vihuela, Maria Jarquin on guitarrón, Liliana Cruz on trumpet, and Yazmin Nuñez and Jennifer Perez on violins) examines the complexities of moving on from heartbreak and figuring out your purpose afterwards.
The show opens with an upset Jocey in her living room, dressed in black sweats and sweatshirt with pink fluffy slippers, as if coming home from a play rehearsal. The dialogue opens up to her muttering to herself that she is unsure of how her story—or show, which she’s writing throughout the play—should end. This question drives the narrative as Jocey reflects on key moments from her life. At the heart of her struggle is her recent divorce, a devastating blow that has made her question not just her future, but her very sense of self. The show doesn’t shy away from these moments of vulnerability; Jocey’s pain is laid bare, but peppered with moments of humor and resilience.
One of the most poignant themes is her complicated relationship with her Mexican culture. As a child, Jocey wrestled with feelings of inadequacy. She didn’t like her brown skin, feeling different from the European beauty standards she saw on TV and around her, specifically noting, “even the lead actresses in telenovelas are white!” She confesses that she idolized Hilary Duff in Lizzie McGuire, a Disney Channel show.
Her exclamation, “That’s right—I wanted to grow up to be a white woman!” and the anguishing, “Did you know it’s expensive to get a divorce?” helps us see Jocey as our friend. Much of the humor in the show comes from Jocey’s interaction with a secondary character, her intrusive thoughts, which are portrayed as her own voice coming out of a broken Alexa.
This is largely inspired by her obsession with Lizzie McGuire, where the titular character has a cartoon version of herself offering insight into Lizzie’s inner monologues. Her thoughts, which the audience can hear, help Jocey navigate the hard questions, while providing painfully honest peanut gallery commentary on her decisions.
Throughout the play, she tries to love herself and reconcile that love with who mainstream media says deserves to be loved. This tension is beautifully captured in the music, a blend of iconic Mexican classics and American musical theater and pop songs that mirror Jocey’s own identity crisis. There exists an understanding of the magnitude that her love for theater has led her to write and star in her own musical theater show as a Latina who doubted she’d succeed on Broadway or in a traditional college theater program.
The mariachi band plays an essential role in transmitting these cultural nuances. Led by Daniel Ochoa’s powerful musical score, the arrangements take the audience on a journey, blending traditional Mexican sounds with modern genres in a way that feels both timeless and contemporary. The music underscores Jocey’s internal battles, from her struggles to move on from her divorce from her high school sweetheart to her quest for self-acceptance, offering a deeply resonant backdrop.
A particularly electrifying moment unfolds when Jocey, in the heat of frustration, confronts her family’s insistence that she should only sing Spanish music rather than English. She exclaims, “No! I hate when people tell me what to do!” As she launches into an impassioned monologue, expressing anger at their expectations, the tension builds.
The mariachi band, already seated upstage behind a large picture frame outline, begins to play the iconic opening notes of “Don’t Rain on My Parade.” As Jocey’s speech intensifies, the mariachi’s music swells behind her, echoing her defiance. The moment climaxes when Jocey declares, voice belting out, “Hey Abuelito, here I am!” It’s a bold, triumphant moment where tradition and individuality collide, capturing the heart of Jocey’s journey to embrace all parts of herself.
The set, designed by Shayna Patel, plays a critical role in grounding the narrative in Jocey’s world. Her living room, cluttered and chaotic, is a reflection of her internal state. The space feels lived-in, with objects strewn about that hint at both her emotional baggage and her attempt to make sense of it all. The mess is a symbol of Jocey’s struggle to move forward, to organize her life after the wreckage of her marriage, especially when we see her unsigned divorce papers.
Throughout the performance, Jocey speaks and interacts directly with the audience, thinking out loud and sharing her anxieties. Director Yajaira I. Custodio makes excellent use of the space, guiding the audience through Jocey’s highs and lows with carefully crafted transitions between past and present. She transports the audience from Jocey’s intimate conversations with her ex-husband to moments of self-reflection. These creative decisions keep the audience engaged, ensuring that the one-woman show never feels stagnant or confined to its single-room setting.
Villa’s performance is raw and honest, capturing the many layers of Jocey’s character. She navigates the full spectrum of emotions, from the pain of her shortcomings to the humor in her self-deprecating remarks, with a naturalness that makes her story feel all the more real.
But it’s in the musical numbers where Villa truly shines. Her voice, warm and smokey, yet powerful and full, moves effortlessly between languages and genres, from the heartbreaking ballads of Adele’s “To Be Loved” to the soaring high notes in Linda Ronstadt’s “La Cigarra.” Each song reflects a different part of Jocey’s emotional journey. Her rendition of Christina Aguilera’s “La Reina” is a highlight, serving as a powerful anthem of self-empowerment as Jocey finally embraces her identity and realizes her worth.
Jocey y las Mariachis is a personal exploration of one woman’s quest for self-acceptance in the wake of heartbreak while figuring out cultural displacement. The combination of Villa’s powerful vocal performance, Ochoa’s beautiful score, and Custodio’s thoughtful direction creates a rich, immersive experience that leaves a lasting impression. It’s a story that feels both deeply individual and universally relatable, making Jocey y las Mariachis a triumph of storytelling, musical expression and pushing through.
José Alfredo Guerrero is a versatile singer and educator who grew up in Little Village and graduated from the DePaul School of Music. With experience in theater, music, and comedy, he has captivated audiences in roles such as Angel in RENT and as the creative force behind the band Madera Once.
Such a beautiful play and this review is spot on!