Dark comedy 'Don't Eat the Mangos' warns of the weight of secrets

Secrets are like cancer, spreading and swallowing what is healthy and good.  Still, we keep them, thinking we are protecting ourselves and others by vowing to lock up what is dangerous or hurtful deep within. But what is done in darkness will always come to light eventually.

Such is the case for a family of five in The Huntington Theatre’s powerful production of “Don’t Eat the Mangos” by Ricardo Pérez González. At its start, a trio of sisters speak in rapid Spanish about their lives, make jokes and try to pass the buck when deciding who will answer their ailing papi’s call for help. He needs constant care. The matriarch of the family is also sick and undergoing chemotherapy. Despite the circumstances, the sisters — or hermanas, they call each other mana for short — still find ways to keep each other laughing.

All the action takes place in a cozy home in Carolina, Puerto Rico, shaded by a tall mango tree. Inside a brightly lit kitchen, there are mustard yellow appliances, green walls and blue and brown shelves stuffed with food, dishes and blankets. The kitchen seems warm and full of life. Still, as this home — conceived by talented scenic designer Tanya Orellana — rotates onstage, other spaces, with eerie lighting by Cha See, feel more ominous.

A fantastic Jessica Pimentel, best known for her role on Netflix’s “Orange is the New Black,” leads a stellar ensemble as eldest sister Ismelda. She is the workhorse of the family, employed at Banco Popular, who still lives with mom and dad and is the chief caretaker. Middle sister Yinoelle (portrayed by Yesenia Iglesias) is a married mother contemplating a move out of Puerto Rico. The youngest, Wicha, is a professor, activist, and single mom rendered by Evelyn Howe.

As the sisters talk of the past, the audience learns that papi (José Ramón Rosario) was a bit of a ne'er-do-well who was into politics, partying and cigars, and their mami (Susanna Guzmán) is the one who held everything together. Now that their parents are aging, the two younger sisters have pledged to be around more often to give Ismelda a break.

Directed by David Mendizábal, the cast and creative team succeed at making “Don’t Eat the Mangos” a story full of laughter that sharply pivots into horror and back again. As the sisters reminisce and try to remember the words to a tune Ismelda used to sing to them growing up, their bond disarms. I forgot to steel myself for what’s to come. When old wounds are revealed so casually, it left me reeling.

“When it’s hot, write it cold,” a sister scribe once told me when asked about exploring complicated subject matter. With “Don’t Eat the Mangos,” González wields this skill expertly, filleting the feelings of the characters and the viewer.

His writing, coupled with Mendizábal’s acute directional sensibilities, allows the characters to dip into profound pain promptly, like the shock of jumping into ice-cold water in summer. The sting on the skin is felt but promptly pushed down. And though the characters aim to appear unaffected, the cost of not tending to these wounds is evident.

But that’s the goal. The playwright shares in an interview in the program that this story comes from a real tale that his mother would tell about her bisabuela, or great grandmother. He said, “it might have seemed like my mother was being truthful about the trauma, but the story was used as a means of control to say ‘Well, you could have it worse.’”

Maybe so, but avoiding trauma for as long as possible, like this family does, is a theme that rings with universality, too. When the characters finally face the formidable and the ugly truth is shared, my eyes were stinging with tears. There’s a weight that seems to lift and a sort of justice is served.

By the end of the play, the family learns the power and freedom of shining a light in the darkness around them.

“Don’t Eat the Mangos” runs through April 27 at The Huntington’s Calderwood Pavilion.