Bending and twisting, shaking and shouting, 38-year-old actor
and comedian John Leguizamo’s mother is spanking him with her
chancleta (a flip-flop sandal). With a backdrop of hundreds of
twinkling lights, his jerking body moves to a danceable beat. When
the imaginary assault finally ends, he proclaims, “that is
how Latin hip-hop was born.”
“Sexaholix,” Leguizamo’s latest one-man show,
arrived from Broadway at the Ahmanson Theatre on Wednesday.
It’s chock-full of this sort of clever cultural commentary.
Whether he’s recalling summers spent as the token hoodlum of
a rich white family or reenacting the relentless ignorance
displayed by his Jewish in-laws, the comedian deftly uncovers the
humor behind his experiences growing up Latino in America.
Although the format of “Sexaholix” follows much the
same multi-character style as his previous shows
(“Spic-o-Rama,” “Freak”), Leguizamo brings
even more of his personal life to the stage this time. During one
piece where he actually visits his shrink, we get the distinct
sense that his entire performance is as much therapy session as
comedic performance.
Luckily for audiences, Leguizamo’s inner demons can take a
joke. The show is subtitled “A Love Story,” and as such
is populated by former girlfriends and wives that have trampled on
the performer’s fragile heart. There is serious pain behind
each story, especially those that involve his abusive and
neglectful parents. The sad truth lying underneath each
heartbreaking tale can easily push you from hysterical laughter to
genuine tears.
That’s not to say Leguizamo’s brand of humor is
overly sensitive. Several of the most effective jokes have to do
with bodily functions, which work not because his fans are
12-year-old boys, but because of the alarmingly candid way he
integrates them into a larger understanding of the human
experience.
If it all sounds a little self-indulgent, it is. Few performers
have ever successfully pulled off one-man shows without a healthy
dose of self-flattery, and this marks Leguizamo’s fourth time
in the solo spotlight. “Sexaholix” could easily spin
out into vapidity, but every time the comedian starts down that
road, he quickly slams on the brakes and reminds us that underneath
it all, he’s just a guy who spent a large part of his life
having trouble getting dates.
It is his willingness to virtually cut open his own belly and
show you the complete workings of his intestinal tract that makes
the show work. We see it all, the good, the bad and the disgusting.
Even when he dances with an audience member on his way back to the
stage, we can’t help but be glad of Leguizamo’s
desperate need for the spotlight. We may be his collective
therapists, but the healing process has never been so much fun.