Our relationship with our father can be complicated … especially if his ghost suddenly shows up seeking revenge after his assassination under one of the bloodiest regimes in Latin American history. For one modern-day Hamlet (Francisco Arcila) — a queer New Yorker of Chilean descent — it means coming out to his dead dad, before slowly confessing to his husband, Horatio (John Evans Reese), that he’s been seeing visions. Oh, and plotting a revenge scheme with his old school friend Ophelia (Nefesh Cordero Pino).
These are not exactly the Shakespearean characters you remember. In fact, “Manifest Destiny,” now playing at Teatro LATEA, playfully distances itself from direct comparisons, thanks to a legally mandated shroud of secrecy. The result is a wild, genre-blending story that slips between parody and political thriller, memory and myth, a little perreo and a lot of farce.
“Manifest Destiny” is a hall-of-mirrors story for a country that keeps haunting itself. It lands at a time when more New Yorkers are confronting darker truths behind patriotic myths of freedom, inclusion, and open arms to all immigrant dreamers with an American work ethic. As peaceful demonstrations against mass deportation are met with militarized force, “Manifest Destiny” resonates. It asks us how we live with the shadow of our family and nation’s past, and to what extent we can rewrite our destiny.
In this 90-minute world premiere — the second in his “American Mythology” trilogy — Chilean playwright and director Manuel Ortiz remixes “Hamlet” with Chilean political history, American propaganda and queer domestic drama. The result: a chiaroscuro tragicomedy that draws from film noir, telenovelas, “Jeopardy” and anthems to American exceptionalism, all underscored by state violence and the diasporic experience.
Ortiz’s production joins a growing canon of radical “Hamlets”: James Ijames’ Pulitzer-winning “Fat Ham” reimagines the Danish prince as a queer Black man at a Southern barbecue who tries to break an intergenerational cycle of trauma and violence. In another adaptation post-pandemic, octagenarian Sir Ian McKellen drew controversy in the titular young role.
But unlike many of its contemporaries, “Manifest Destiny” doesn’t just reinterpret Shakespeare. Instead, it interrogates America itself, using the ghost story at its core to trace the aftershocks of empire.
What the U.S. has to do with a bloody regime in Chile
It’s not all a farce or literary mashup. We’re briefed on the history of Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet’s dictatorship (1973 – 1990), projected onscreen. And we’re reminded of the U.S. government’s role in backing Pinochet, from destabilizing his democratically elected predecessor to tacitly supporting systemic human rights abuses.
While much of this history is now confirmed through declassified documents, Ortiz plays with the spaces between official records, rumors and collective knowledge. Even the show’s tongue-in-cheek disclaimer — that any resemblance to real events is coincidental — vacillates between real and performative.
As the cast tells us, the plot is based on an actual person in witness protection, who was allegedly a double agent for both the CIA and Pinochet’s secret police. Still, cast members insist it’s also a work of fiction. Or rather, it reflects the real stories of over 1,200 people whose lives were shaped, and often shattered, by political violence.
Patriotism is built into the stage
Ortiz subtly reminds us that censorship and authoritarianism aren’t confined to the distant past or foreign dictatorships. Without ever naming names, the play invokes President Trump’s policies around immigration and freedom of speech. “Please don’t try to send us to jail or deport us,” the cast pleads early on. “Surprisingly, we really like it here.”
Ortiz reflects this tension throughout. Patriotism is built into the stage, with bulb signs for “Chile” and “USA” that light up at just the wrong moment. A rock version of the national anthem plays while Hamlet’s father’s spectre sports a leather jacket. Others wear aviators and swagger straight out of “Top Gun.”
Then there’s Missus America (also played by Cordero Pino), who personifies America’s gaudy ignorance, in-your-face egoism, and tacky tactlessness to a T. She’s also an all-American crowd pleaser on par with Dolly Parton, handing out high-fives and pageant smiles while improvising with the audience. She and a Latino Alex Trebek (Jesse B. Koehler, who also plays Claudius) offer a darkly fun contrast to Hamlet’s earnestness.
A dream you don’t wake up from
Still, amid the chaos are moments of grace and genuine heartbreak: a tender scene between a long-lost father and a son with abandonment issues, the strain of a marriage bearing the weight of secrets and a glimpse of Hamlet and Ophelia as idealistic students, before the rot sets in. Horatio’s Spanglish terms of endearment soften his edges when he’s forced to choose between his husband and his ethics.
“Manifest Destiny” becomes, in the end, a dream you’re not quite sure you’ll wake from — one where memory and myth bleed into each other. In many ways, it’s not unlike the titular promise of American exceptionalism and the mandate to spread democracy. As the play reminds us, the myth of justice can quite literally rise like bubbles or vanish like smoke, depending on who’s telling the story.
“Manifest Destiny,” written and directed by Manuel Ortiz, plays at Teatro LATEA through June 29. teatrolatea.org. Tickets start at $30.
