‘Aubergine’ touching yet overcooked

By Eric George Tauber

“Hear, ye children, the instruction of a father, and attend to know understanding.” (Proverbs 4:1)

Eric Tauber

SAN DIEGO — The Korean community is one of a plethora of immigrant communities of San Diego. I came to Thursday night’s show in order to attend Sam’s Salon where the San Diego Rep’s Artistic Director Sam Woodhouse interviewed some of these folks to get their perspective.

Like all minority groups, they have to deal with some misconceptions. First, people ask if they’re Japanese or Chinese, forgetting about the densely populated peninsula in between that’s a major US ally and trading partner. (Haven’t they ever watched M*A*S*H?) No, they don’t all know one another and they don’t all get cosmetic surgery. (But it’s not exactly uncommon, either.)

Koreans get held up as a “model minority:” quiet, hard-working, and highly entrepreneurial. One reason for their success as a group is that when they want to start a business, they can get micro-loans from their landsmen, circumventing high interest loans from the banks.

One person pointed to hard work as an essential Korean value, that she didn’t know a single Korean person who was lazy. Well, as an ESL teacher, I offered to introduce her to a few. And that’s the curse of prosperity. Older generations worked so hard that their children don’t have to. So they don’t and their parents chastise their laziness.

And this brings us to the essential conflict in Aubergine.  Ray is being pressured by the hospital to bring his father home for hospice care where “he’ll be more comfortable.” Ray’s father (whose name in the program is “Ray’s father”) was a “complicated” man, which is a polite way of saying stoic, demanding, and highly critical. Once a soldier in the Korean Conflict, he’s learned to survive on very little, actually preferring instant ramen to well-cooked food. Ray is a professional chef, but his father only finds his culinary creations “interesting.”

Dana Lee portrays Ray’s father with cold distance. Deep down, he loves his son, but he doesn’t really trust himself to show it. Brian Kim, as Ray, is a grown man on the outside, but within, he’s still a little boy desperate to earn his father’s favor.

“Death is always walking toward you, but you look away.”

The hospice nurse Lucien is played by Terrell Donnell Sledge with genuine heart and compassion. Seeing so much death has given him a very clear perspective on life. He urges Ray to take care of himself, take a shower, go for a walk, not to forget to live.

Ray solicits the aid of his ex-girlfriend Cornelia (Audrey Park) to tell his family back in Korea that his father is in hospice. And this brings Uncle Yong on the next plane over. She makes a deft translator, more diplomatic than truthful in her interpretations. Kim Yong is fun to watch as Uncle, communicating across the language barrier with expressive animation. He insists that Ray make his father turtle soup, providing a live one for the pot.

Aubergine is a touching story about coping with impending loss, bringing back painful memories of our own. Our relationships with our families and food can be equally complicated. It’s what they use to keep us alive and healthy. Food and meal times imprint upon us special memories and link us to our holidays. But when dishes are not to our taste, are we the ones being imposed upon or are we simply ungrateful?

That said, the play seemed to go on longer than necessary. There were several scenes that I thought were the final scene, only to be followed by another and yet another. Also, the play was bookended by a prologue and epilogue with a whole other character who really didn’t add that much to the story. Playwright Julia Cho ought to revise the recipe. This soup has some delicious ingredients, but it’s a bit overcooked.

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Tauber is a freelance writer specializing in coverage of the arts.  He may be contacted via eric.tauber@sdjewishword.com