It’s 1987 East Los Angeles in a small sewing factory and Ana (Brenda Palestina) is stuck between high school graduation and her hopes to attend college and become a writer. Feeling trapped in her job working for her sister Estella (Melinna Bobadilla), who owns the clothing production enterprise, she yearns for something more.
She retreats to the factory bathroom to write in her journal things like “I do not want to be here.” That bathroom will be a place where each character can retreat and reveal inner thoughts to the audience—often with comedic panache. This is the setting for Real Women Have Curves now on stage at Alley Theatre.
Carmen (Angela Lanza) is their mother, who also sews in the factory. She brings moldy mole sauce to the place—and of course at some point that sauce is spilled on dresses at crunch time. Yes, this is a comedy of sorts, but the troubles that come are predictable and that kind of cuts down the humor quotient when you see events coming from a mile away.
This trio is joined by Pancha (Gloria Vivica Benavides), a standout who can play a range from deadpan to slapdash on a dime, and Rosali (an energetic Sophia Marcelle). Pancha has problems: like the other workers, she hasn’t been paid by Estella, and she laments that she cannot have children. She drops suggestions that she might be a victim of domestic violence, but like every serious issue in this play, that ball is thrown in the air, but never comes down. We just have to guess and the issue disappears like steam from a hot iron. Instead, we are diverted to issues of body positivity and telling off vendors who aren’t nice enough.
You have to hand it to the Alley—the sets are usually terrific, and the realism of Mariana Sanchez’s scenic design is superb—from the sewing machine that smokes real smoke to the clouds behind five ‘80s-inspired color-riffic dresses (Raquel Barreto) that hang above the stage before the drama even begins. The heavy door that separates the women from the streets of East LA and that era’s clothing all ring true and blend well with the strong sound and lighting design (David Molina and Mextlu Couzin).
The play itself seems forced—forced laughter, forced problems, jokes that are repeated two or three too many times, thus losing their punch. The actresses give it their all—no doubt. For example, there is the repeated line about “forgetting” that they don’t have to evade the authorities anymore, because they are legal immigrants now. Is that really funny?
Estella is in a bucket of trouble as she committed a crime and didn’t complete her paperwork for citizenship. It’s not just that this is a hot topic right now—regardless of one’s politics, this issue has always been serious and doesn’t lend itself to the big laughs. Instead, it fuels dated stereotypes of people that the play originally was trying to dispel. Not sure why the Alley chose this play, which feels like a sit-com pilot that goes on for two hours. Not sure if it would be picked up.
Aside from Estella’s dating turmoil (another tease—something bad happens on a date, but she refuses to tell us what that is, and then it’s hard to care about it at all) and documentation issues, there are unpaid invoices, paychecks, deadlines, impossible orders of dresses for five women to fulfill. Whew. But the physical comedy bordering on slapstick at times sucks all the drama out of what could be moving issues that could deepen the play. (Although there is a cute group dance number with hot pink dresses to liven things up.)
Rosali also struggles with wanting to be size-7 thin while Carmen routinely fat-shames Ana. Anyone alive in the eighties knows that living on Dexatrim and Tab so you could be Naomi Campbell/Christy Brinkley thin was something that invaded the entire culture—not just Latina girls and young women. So, the cultural pressures of not being too thin or too fat from the older women in the mix are just another version of the body shaming that this play tries to highlight and eradicate. Talk about a mixed message.
There are funny lines, but the script swings from silly to serious in ways that end up sort of cancelling each other out. The climax of the group stripping and being comfortable in their own bodies no matter what is supposed to be celebratory. But what exactly is being celebrated? Characters admit they put on weight to avoid marital sex and stave off unwanted attention, or lose weight so they are finally worthy of losing their virginity. What the heck? Is this a big defense of the psychological wounds that lead to weight issues? Dunno, but it’s kinda hard to care in a drama that seems to have surpassed its expiration date like Carmen’s mole sauce.
The successful film version and Broadway musical used this play as a launching pad, and one wishes the original script was better. These actresses have outstanding credentials, and they do their best with a script that has to try too hard for the laughs. However, this artifact does remind us of the ways people cope with the relentless messages popular culture throws at women about their bodies, and how sometimes you just have to dismiss those dictates, take off your shirt, and let it all hang out.
Performances continue through February 15 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays and 7 p.m. Sundays at Alley Theatre, 615 Texas. For more information, call 713-220-5700 or visit alleytheatre.org. $36-$108.
This article appears in Private: Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2026.