Review: ‘Mañana’ serves up wit and drama

The pleasures of a well-constructed play can be like sitting down for a memorable meal at one of those restaurants with the multiple Michelin stars.

Not that I’d know. (Necessarily.) Then again, neither would the four characters in Elizabeth Irwin’s compelling “My Mañana Comes” — and they spend a good chunk of their lives in such a place.

The play, now getting a witty, meaty West Coast premiere at San Diego Rep, is set in an upscale Manhattan eatery where four busboys toil at the back of the house for tips and meager “shift pay.”

Irwin’s sharp, often playful dialogue and the performances of director Delicia Turner Sonnenberg’s cohesive cast make the show, on one level, an absorbing look into the social dynamics of one unique workplace.

But without hitting us over the head with a sautée pan, Irwin also mixes in (implicitly) such issues as immigration, ethnic tension and the struggle to make a living wage.

The result is a propulsive 90-minute show (with no intermission) that builds like the dinner rush on a busy weekend.

Part of what makes the play tick is the distinctiveness (in personality and social position) of each character.

Peter (Edred Utomi), the acknowledged leader, is the quick-witted, high-spirited veteran of the place, who seems to have a bead on how every aspect of the business runs.

Whalid (Spencer Smith) is a trash-talking jokester from Brooklyn whose work ethic is decidedly more lax than the family man Peter’s.

Jorge (Jorge E. Rodriguez), who’s actually been at the restaurant the longest, is a serious, single-minded Mexican immigrant who has been saving to build a house back home.

And Pepe (Jose Martinez), also from Mexico, is a naive newcomer who’s prone to blowing his pay on clubs and clothes.

There’s one added difference that looms large in the play: Only Peter and Whalid are in the country legally.

That sets up some delicate power dynamics, particularly as all four are members of racial minorities (Peter is African-American, while Whalid is of Mexican heritage) and so have not exactly had the red carpet (or lace tablecloth) laid out for them by society at large.

When a threat to the workers’ livelihood looms, the prickly but (mostly) affectionate interplay among the four fractures into suspicion and resentment, and it’s every man for himself in the spare prep room (well designed by Brian Redfern) where the entire play takes place.

Utomi sets an excellent tone for the show with his portrayal of the confident Peter, who slowly reveals his worries over keeping his young daughter happy and safe.

The versatile Rodriguez provides a strong contrast as the more sober-minded but slyly funny Jorge.

Smith also slips right into the cocky persona of the wisecracking Whalid, who has a new career scheme for every day of the week.

Martinez has probably the toughest role, with Pepe winding up as the fourth wheel in the story at times (a small weakness of the play); still, he has good moments that evoke both Pepe's hopes and vulnerability.

Turner Sonnenberg gets them all moving through their labors convincingly — chopping vegetables, lofting trays, whisking briskly in and out of the swinging doors while dropping such trade lingo as "four-tops." (Playwright Irwin herself has long experience in restaurant work.)

Alongside the solid work of designers Sherrice Mojgani (lighting) and Kevin Anthenill (sound), one telling detail from Anastasia Pautova’s costumes stands out: the sleek new kitchen coats that two characters wear in the final scene.

It’s a sight that speaks volumes to moral sacrifices made in the name of survival.