Theatre in Review: Spread (INTAR Theatre) Some things never change: The quartet of adolescent boys portrayed in Spread is instantly recognizable, no matter how old you are. As high school freshmen in East Texas, they share the bravado, anxieties, rivalries, goofy in-jokes, and cutting remarks of their teenage tribe. As the sons of working-class Latino families, they cope as best they can with limited resources and parents often distracted by troubles of their own. Semi-abandoned and essentially good-hearted, they make an ad hoc family for each other, albeit a highly fractious one. (Everyone involved in Spread understands the untrammeled energy that comes with being fourteen.) Cheers to new playwright Jesus I. Valles for creating four distinct, fully realized characters and dialogue that feels utterly authentic. And double cheers to director Tatyana-Marie Carlo for blending her ensemble into a tightly knit unit. Spread has its problems, but authenticity isn't one of them. The group consists of Chris, who, with a dad in jail and a brother working on a career of his own, could use a male role model, especially when trying to handle his skittish girlfriend; Andrew, who guards his sensitive nature with his too-candid tongue; the plus-sized Jordan, humorously outrageous public but at home the family caretaker, making meals and tending to his baby brother; and Jeffrey, religious and holding on to dreams of football glory even as he gets nothing but negativity from his abusive stepfather. Over the course of a semester, we catch them at key moments: a religious argument, a dispute that slides into near-fisticuffs, a sports injury, a thwarted act of masturbation, a stolen kiss and its awkward aftermath, a pregnancy scare, a drinking session with a lifted bottle of schnapps, and a nervous, tentative rumination on a gay teacher's private life. The incidents are commonplace, yet each is a little bolt of lightning, revealing something essential: Chris plans a family prison visit, trying to rope his reluctant sibling into coming along. Making fun of the others, Andrew goes too far, then impulsively shares the money his frequently absent mother throws at him. Jordan gleefully announces his future stripper name as "Hefty Delicious," while privately fretting about his looks and quietly feeling crushed by his responsibilities. Jeffrey sadly accepts the verdict of his stepfather, who tells him, "I'm not the kind of son God needs me to be." Under Carlo's direction, the actors play off each other with such lively spontaneity that one instantly believes they've been friends since elementary school. The cast is a festival of gifted new faces. Daniel Bravo Hernandez's quiet, thoughtful Chris is especially touching when imagining himself as the kind of father he hasn't had. Danny Gomez's generally caustic Andrew affectingly sheds his guard in a moment of understanding with the angry, sexually conflicted Jeffrey. Jaden Perez's Jeffrey is poignantly hemmed in by adult criticism, looking for a reason to like himself. Ishmael Gonzalez is alternately raucous and melancholy, a good kid trying to do the right thing with the odds stacked against him. The title of the play refers to the boys' lunchtime ritual, blending various foodstuffs (ramen, pickles, Cheetos, God knows what else) in a giant Baggie, smushing it together, and eating it. (It's an idea only a fourteen-year-old could love.) Spread is similarly constructed, which is a bit of a problem. It's a play of sensibility, all observations and not much action; without a stronger plot and central conflict, this relatively brief offering overstays its welcome, peaking around the two-thirds point. An emotional crisis for Jordan, who suddenly makes suicidal noises, feels manufactured and inorganic. Rescue is provided, however, by Luis Vega as a teacher who, in the evening's one departure from naturalism, delivers an aria prophetically outlining each character's future. It's a beautifully written set piece, noting that life is packed with unexpected (and sometimes unwelcome) twists, and youthful friends, no matter how strong, can quickly fade with time. Carlo's handling of the cast is virtually faultless, especially a trip to the movies during which everyone reacts amusingly to the onscreen mayhem. Rodrigo Escalante's classroom set niftily converts to a kitchen, a stadium, and a portable learning unit, among other locations. With its low ceiling, the INTAR space can be difficult to light, but Christina Watanabe manages a surprising variety of looks. Christina Vergara's costumes draw subtle distinctions among the characters. Michael Costagliola's sound design includes bells, cheering crowds, car horns, pop music, and, most effectively, an offstage argument that keeps Jeffrey from his studies. Spread is obviously an early play, most likely drawn from Valles' life, which helps explain why it sometimes feels overextended. But it is the work of a real writer, capable of transforming the most mundane materials into something urgent and immediate. In a very real sense, these young men are fighting for their lives. I'm confident you'll be rooting for them all the way. --David Barbour 
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