By Robert Israel

The Huntington Theatre Company’s production of Don’t Eat the Mangos commands attention with its blend of entertainment and enlightenment.

Don’t Eat the Mangos, a one-act play by Ricardo Pérez González. Directed by David Mendizábal. Produced by The Huntington Theatre Company, Calderwood Pavilion, Boston Center for the Arts, 527 Tremont St., Boston, through April 27.

Left to right: Evelyn Howe, Jessica Pimentel, Yesenia Iglesias in the Huntington Theatre Company’s Don’t Eat the Mangos. Photo: Marc J. Franklin

Ricardo Pérez González’s powerful one-act play teeters between the tragic and comedic. The play explores a family long burdened by hidden secrets, now reaching a pivotal moment where they must reclaim the matriarchal force that has been denied them for too long. But it is rightfully theirs to claim. Under David Mendizábal’s insightful direction, the cast skillfully channels this force, culminating in a powerful revelation. It can no longer be held back. And, when that liberating exhalation arrives at the script’s dénouement, it comes with a brute force that knocks us back in our seats. It involves a one-two punch that invites us to witness a shattering of the roles of inherited cultural repression and superstition. At the final curtain, we are asked to be witnesses at a scene of healing and transformation.

Set in 2019 in El Comandante, a neighborhood in Carolina, Puerto Rico, the script introduces four women — Mami, the mother, and her three daughters, Ismelda, Yinoelle, and Wicha — who cohabitate in this place outside San Juan. The women are ruled over by Papi (José Ramón Rosario), the paterfamilias, an ailing man rapidly losing his hold on the family (as he physically and symbolically loses his grasp on life because of a respiratory condition). Each of the women have embraced and, consequently, accepted their places in that family unit. Therein lies the friction: each resents their tiresome roles, and struggle, as adults, to reckon with the burdens of their individual successes and shortcomings.

There are scenes when the women’s voices compete in shouting contests, and the words filling the auditorium are often indecipherable. Will Ismelda (Jessica Pimentel) use her prowess to push her sisters back and get some assistance with the many household (and parental) tasks? Will Wicha (Evelyn Howe) claim her turf? And will Yinoelle, perhaps the most self-deprecating of the three, disarm her sisters using her humor and humility to earn some of their affection and acceptance? And then there is Mami, played with quiet (and at times loud) force by the talented Susanna Guzman, who from her entrance on, commands respect (and expects a cup of hot coffee to be served to her with a sweet biscuit). Power is distributed throughout the family and, because it comes from an all-too-human source, it dissipates and confounds as it becomes caught up in struggles to maintain and preserve each individual’s dignity. The inclusion of a storm scene in the play underscores this theme of dominance/submission, when the set is dimmed and the women probe the inky darkness with flashlights.

Evelyn Howe in the HTC’s Don’t Eat the Mangos. Photo by Marc J. Franklin

González’s language is effective but prosaic, despite the infusion of his native Spanish into the script. Speech rhythms help us to identify the nuances in each character, but the overall sound of the dialogue is dull. The exception: when the sisters break into a song they learned as youngsters, which supplies rhapsodic language with deep musical roots.

The supporting effects — scenic design by Tanya Orellana and costume design by Zoe Sundra — help move the long one-act through its paces with a swiftness that takes the time to pay attention to eye-arresting details: the clutter of a kitchen and the all-important use of a trash bucket with its flip top lid that sits, purposefully, at stage right. That said, I grew dizzy with the use of the revolving stage (as I did at another HTC show, Prayer for the French Revolution). I did not count the number of times it was turned about onstage — like a carousel at an amusement park — spun so that we could catch a glimpse of another impressive room. But I felt that the whirligigging could be reduced, if only to increase the surprise — and wow! — factor. Gimmicks are fun, but they shouldn’t compete with the performers and the dramatic action.

That staging decision — easily remedied with a bit of snipping — is minor. The script shatters preconceived notions of Puerto Rico and its complicated yet life-affirming people that we have seen in a number of plays and musicals, West Side Story among them. The stage stereotypes suggest it is a country of unruly and unsophisticated heathens. They are nothing of the sort.

Mangos is receiving a strong production. The evening commands attention and, upon seizing it, entertains and enlightens.

Robert Israel, an Arts Fuse contributor since 2013, can be reached at risrael_97@yahoo.com.