Theatre in Review: Real Women Have Curves (James Earl Jones Theatre)The revelation of Real Women Have Curves: All you need for a captivating musical is a tightly constructed book and score, a talented and ingratiating cast, and slick, fast-paced direction. Who knew? Okay, I'm stating the obvious, or am I? In a season filled with musicals hung up on precious concepts and technical effects, Real Women Have Curves focuses on the essentials of people and storytelling. It's a throwback that seems almost revolutionary, reminding us of the joy generated by shows with solid ideas backed by real talent. It doesn't try to stun or stupefy: It engages and makes us care. In a way, Real Women Have Curves is the musical theatre equivalent of John Proctor is the Devil, being a breezy, pointed comic drama that speaks to the present moment. Although set in Los Angeles in 1987, it has plenty to say about this country's broken immigration system, which leaves people trapped in a no-win situation, contributing to the economy while living in fear of the law. Lisa Loomer and Nell Benjamin's book centers on three generations of women associated with a family-owned clothing factory. It is operated by Estela, who rides herd on a crew of female workers, including her critical, salty-tongued mother Carmen. (On the sidelines is Carmen's younger daughter Ana, just out of high school, harboring dreams of becoming a journalist.) The opening number, "Make It Work," effortlessly gets us on their side, detailing their lives of hard labor and little reward: "Suck it up for the future/Look ahead, not behind/When they call you illegal/You work overtime not to lose your mind." Indeed, it's a constant struggle to keep the factory open and profitable. Working conditions are tough; among other things, the toilet routinely breaks, feathers drift in from the pillow factory upstairs, and air-conditioning is a pipe dream. When Estela gets a lucrative order for two hundred dresses with a near-impossible deadline of three weeks, everyone, hoping for a big payday, slips into high gear. Even Ana, whose sewing skills are non-existent, is drafted, forcing her to balance the work with her internship at a community newspaper. Lurking in the background is a secret: She has been admitted to Columbia University on a free ride. But Ana, the only citizen in the family, knows that Carmen will violently oppose her daughter moving east. The looming deadline for the dress order provides a solid undertone of tension as various crises arise, many of them stemming from Ana, who, in addition to her college plans, starts dating Henry, her fellow (and non-Latino) newspaper intern. Meanwhile, an INS raid on another business in the building leaves everyone cowering in fear. Everyone escapes, but later, the winsome Itzel, one of the best seamstresses on Estela's staff, is arrested; Ana wants to sponsor her but can't do so without surrendering personal data that will put her family at risk. A government amnesty program is opening, but nobody trusts it; in any case, Estela, who has a minor traffic infraction on her record, is ineligible. Real Women Have Curves is about living with profound instability, the fight to get through another day with a modicum of joy intact, and the corrosive effects of constantly putting one's dreams on hold. Carmen, who'd like to see both daughters married and twenty pounds lighter -- opinions she is not afraid to express -- knows that constant vigilance and hard work constitute the price of staying in the US. But Ana wants to know: What about dreams of getting ahead and making a difference? Meanwhile, Estela wants everyone to put their heads down and sew another dress; if the full order isn't delivered, the fee will be forfeited. It's a gritty, lively tale, warm but not sentimental, a tad formulaic but filled with the impossible details of living here without official status. The score, by Joy Huerta and Benjamin Velez, matches the staccato rhythms of the characters' lives, pausing now and then to take in a half-expressed dream or hidden heartache. "Flying Away" warmly lays out Ana's aspirations for a better life. "If I Were a Bird" a duet for Ana and Itzal, amusingly inverts its avian imagery, becoming a canny catalog of life's irritations. "Doin' It Anyway" finds plenty of fun in Ana and Henry's first time in the bedroom. Bringing down the curtain on a show that insists on the importance of family and community, "I Got It Wrong" brings Ana and Carmen together for a moment that guarantees a lump in the throat. The title tune, featuring the ladies shedding their outer garments in the summer heat, is a gilt-edged crowd-pleaser; at the performance I attended, it brought the audience to its feet in the middle of Act II. Sergio Trujillo's fast, no-nonsense staging nevertheless leaves room for moments of real feeling; he goes bigger in "Daydream," in which Estela, sick of so many responsibilities, fantasizes starting over in Paris; the number climaxes in a chic fashion parade that crystallizes her aspirations. He has also assembled an unusually strong cast, including Tatianna Cordoba, feisty and fill of beans (yet terrified of Carmen) as Ana; Justina Machado, taking no prisoners as Carmen, the family's minister of tough love; and Florencia Cuenca as Estella, perpetually caught in the middle and getting fed up with it. Also, making lovely contributions are Mauricio Mendoza, as the family's mensch of a patriarch; Aline Mayagoitia, seemingly fragile but tougher than she looks as Itzel, and Mason Reeves, a handsome, yet dweeby, delight (and fine dancer) as Henry. In addition to the vividly realized factory, Arnulfo Maldonado's scenery includes the kitchen and front porch of the family's house, a warehouse rooftop backed by a Van Gogh sky, and a forbidding prison interior dominated by corrugated metal walls. His work is ornamented by Hana S. Kim's gorgeously colored projections, which, with their painterly surfaces and floral touches, often have a bit of magic realist art about them. (In a season that includes the shows Redwood and SUMO, this represents some of Kim's best work.) The costumes, by Wilberth Gonzalez and Paloma Young, draw strict and accurate class lines, emphasizing the characters' uneasy social status. Natasha Katz's lighting effortlessly burnishes the musical numbers. John Shivers' sound design, both in terms of effects and reinforcement, is first-class. There's nothing ground-breaking about Real Women Have Curves; its creators thoroughly understand the rules of musical theatre-making and know what they're about. But it's the rare show that uses heart, rather than high-pressure tactics, to win over the audience, and its success can be measured in the ecstatic response at the curtain call. It comes by its excitement honestly, stitching it together out of the most organic materials. As the season ends, it offers a refreshing reminder of what musical theatre does best. --David Barbour 
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