Review: GUAC At Woolly Mammoth

I must fully admit that I was a bit skeptical coming in to Woolly Mammoth’s newest offering, GUAC. It had nothing to do with the advertising materials, the show website, nor any “word of mouth” rumblings out in the streets of DC. I was put off by an email that arrived in my inbox just a few short days before seeing the show. 

The email was from the theatre's press team, which is not unusual for members of the theatrical press. However, this one was a bit different in that the email was explaining that the show itself was, well, different. Now, listen, I’ve seen some unusual theatre in my brief 5 years as a DC resident. “I can’t be swayed by such cautions! I’m ready for different,” I thought to myself. Still, this note struck me as particularly odd. 

“Since you are reviewing the show,” the email continued, “please remember that Manuel Oliver is not an actor. He is a father-turned-activist who is trying to empower others to make change.”

Well, now I’m a full-blown skeptic. Why would the theater take steps to do this ahead of time? Shouldn’t they be letting us form our own opinions? Couldn’t I judge for myself whether or not I consider this man an actor? 

And then, I heard the voice of my mentor and graduate school professor lecturing me about the idea of conventions and saying things like, “who gets to decide who is an artist” and “what makes an actor an actor.” That’s a major digression, though, and I’ll be dissecting those questions and more on my personal blog that has not been created yet. 

So this is the context I found myself when I showed up to the theater for the opening night of GUAC. 

Sidenote - Happy 40th Birthday, Woolly Mammoth! I was among the fortunate who got to witness the light-hearted celebration before the show, but once again, we are digressing. 

As the lights went down, and the show’s single player and writer, Manuel Oliver, came through a cracked door at the very back of the theatre’s playing space, all my fears and anxieties were erased. After spending a little over 90 minutes with Mr. Oliver, I would beg for a much-needed revision of the words “warning” us about Manuel Oliver’s abilities. 

He is a natural storyteller. He is engaging. He has something to share with us that is timely, important, and worthy of taking up every inch of space at Woolly Mammoth. Surely this would suggest that Manuel Oliver is, after all, an actor. 

When Oliver walks through the cracked floor-to-ceiling door at the show’s beginning, he invites us into a small circle of a playing space. He carries with him a milk crate of what appears to be well-loved and oft-used painting supplies. He moves with a certain heaviness, which, considering the subject matter, is understandable - but more on that later.

To his right, a rectangular painter’s canvas taped over with a long sheet of brown construction paper. To his left, a stool. Just behind him, the word “GUAC” is spelled out in large, yellow, graffitied block letters. It’s a sparse set, but one that Oliver will fill with his charismatic personality and the depth of the story he has to tell. 

I, like many others, have never met Manuel Oliver but, unfortunately, know something about what he probably considers one of the most difficult days of his life. Manuel is the father of the late Joaquin “Guac” Oliver, Manuel’s 17-year-old son who was murdered in 2018 by a mass shooter at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. 

To be specific, because it is very important to do so when talking about this country’s outrageous relationship with gun laws, Joaquin was killed by an AR-15. This is a rifle that can in no way be considered responsible gun ownership by a private citizen. Regardless, a student at Joaquin’s school was able to get his hands on this firearm. For the record, the AR-15 is still legal to possess in the state of Florida. 

GUAC is Manuel’s response to his overwhelming grief, his love for his son, and his call to be an activist fighting for gun reform. Most importantly, though, it is a celebration of the person Guac was. Manuel does share his grief with us but also provides a much fuller picture of Guac beyond the final day of his short life. 

This is arguably what makes the piece so strong. It was an unspeakable tragedy, of course, but Manuel brings humanity to Guac’s story. We learn that Guac was a kind, caring, and socially conscious. He had empathy beyond his years and cared deeply for his family. And, he was very much a 17-year-old boy. The day he died, on Valentine’s Day 2018, he brought flowers for his girlfriend at school - he was a romantic. 

Of course, Guac’s story is one of tragedy as well. Manuel treats the day of the tragedy with care. He does his best to imagine what his son must have felt in those final moments - a situation that I sincerely hope not a single reader of this has or will ever know. Manuel’s grief insists that he walk us through his son’s final moments - as if he could somehow take away the pain, understand the situation better, or come to terms with the cavalcade of emotions he processes every day since the tragedy. 

While this is powerful, I found myself impacted deeper not in the tragedy but in the joy and happiness that Manuel shared with his son. The world lost the love that Guac brought into the world that day, and perhaps that is truly the tragic part of this story. 

Now, back to the red flag email I mentioned in the beginning. I must admit, I haven’t been all that fair to Woolly Mammoth. To finish the quote from above, Woolly states in its pre-show email, “this isn’t just a play; it’s three weeks of art activism in DC.” This I agree with! This is where it all comes full circle.

To the email’s point, there are several other elements to take in when experiencing GUAC. As other Parkland survivors have done, like David Hogg for instance, Manuel and his wife, Patricia, have joined the fight - the very vital fight - to reform gun legislation and impose tighter laws around gun control. Manuel and Patricia, who even has a brief two-dimensional cameo in the show, started a nonprofit called Change the Ref, a reference to a lesson their son learned as a child playing youth basketball. This started the couple down the path of activism, which has led to arrests, confrontations with elected officials, and regional theatre productions in Washington DC. 

Aside from being an underrated actor, Manuel Oliver brings his artistic talents both to his activism and to the stage. He is a visual artist, and a gifted one at that. In one of the most spectacular moments of the show that left me and several other audience weeping, Manuel paints a portrait of his son while wearing his son’s signature pink sneakers. It sounds simple, but it is poignant and breathtaking. 

I would hate to take away from the thrill of what I experienced in the theater this past week so I won’t describe the scene any further. However, this is the moment where the show really clicks. While Manuel certainly had what appeared to be jitters and a certain kind of stiffness at first, it’s here where the walls have broken down. Oliver is able to open his heart fully, and we are invited to be part of the art he is creating. It is one of the rare experiences that I pray I witness every single time I go to the theater.

Beyond the stage, and here’s the part where Woolly confirms the whole “this isn’t just a play” idea, there’s an impressive display in the lobby including several pieces of art as activism. There’s memorabilia, original art, interactive displays on the subject matter, and other examples of Change the Ref’s progress through the years. The artistic installation combined with the theatrical piece does a great job of inspiring the audience and sharing with them exactly what they can do to join this fight. It’s deeply empowering and connects well with the action on stage.

GUAC is an important entry into the conversation around gun control. The experience is quite poignant and impactful but beautifully messy - just like Manuel’s canvas on the stage at the end of the show. It is a perfect fit for Woolly Mammoth, an organization that prides itself on challenging the norm and pushing the boundaries of what we call live theatre and how we experience it. Manuel Oliver is a bit unpolished and rough around the edges, but sometimes that is what resonates more with the audience. We yearn for someone who’s real and we can connect with and identify a human experience with. That is who Manuel is and that is his truth. 

I implore you to go see the show now more than ever. Gun control quite literally cannot wait another second. It is already too late for this family who lost their son, but it is not too late to be empowered by their activism. And by the way, Manuel, if you’re reading this, you are an actor. 

GUAC is a one-man show written and performed by Manuel Oliver. It was co-written by James Clements and directed by Michael Cotey. GUAC was developed as GUAC: My Son My Hero under the original direction of James Clements. The show is presented in association with The Public Theatre. 

Other members of the creative team include: Justine Burke (Lighting Design), Grover Hollway (Sound Design), Michael Cotey (Producer), and Patricia Padauy-Oliver (Executive Producer). 

The run time of GUAC is 100 minutes with no intermission. All tickets are $30, however there is a special benefit price available at all performances of $60. With the special benefit price, 50% will be donated to the Oliver’s nonprofit, Change the Ref. 

GUAC and its accompanying lobby installation featuring activist works of art and sculpture will be presented from now until February 16, 2025.

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