Ahead of My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobar, we caught up with writer and performer Elizabeth Alvarado to talk about the personal stories behind the piece, balancing humour with complex cultural narratives, and what it means to reclaim identity on stage. In this Q&A, Alvarado discusses the power of collective storytelling, the real-life events that shaped the play, and how the production walks the line between activism and entertainment.
My Uncle is Not Pablo Escobarplays at Brixton House now until 3rd May. Tickets are available here.
How do you make a heist thriller hit hard without losing the truth of British-Latinx lived experience?
We knew we were setting out to create and write this show about lived experiences, and the issues young Latin American women feel when growing up with dual identity. Centring the show on these issues was our priority. The HSBC scandal that provided the basis for the heist at the centre of the show added a further layer of reality. The heist thriller element is intentionally chosen not only to be entertaining, but to help convey the issues that the Latin American community face. Through the larger-than-life story the audience gets to engage with deep global and structural injustice, and feel the satisfaction of the characters speaking truth to power. By channelling lived experience into characters that are part of a bigger story, we expand the truthful daily emotions we feel, into a dramatic world that retains truthful emotional resonance.
What’s the one thing in your research into corporate complicity that completely changed how you wrote the story?
This story is based on the 2012 HSBC scandal, when the bank was fined 1.9 billion dollars for failing to prevent money laundering by Mexican and Colombian drug cartels. HSBC signed a Deferred Prosecution Agreement for breaches of the US Bank Secrecy Act, the Trading with the Enemy Act and assorted money laundering offences. It sounds like a big deal but in reality, the fine is equivalent to about five weeks’ profit and the incident had very little impact on the company or drug trafficking and violence in Latin America – many people don’t even remember or know about it and continue to bank with HSBC. We were astonished at how little attention the issue of money laundering receives and how governments do so little to prevent it, considering the harm it perpetuates, the crime it supports, and the way it affects us all. The play is an opportunity to reject reality, rewrite history and dream how we wanted the world to be, with the actions of our characters triggering large-scale economic justice.
Did writing as a collective sharpen or complicate your sense of a shared British-Latinx voice?
Mainly sharpen. Having the space in rehearsal to express our individual views was an opportunity to hone, deepen and expand all of our creative voices. That’s the beauty of a process like this; we learn from the people we’re working with, and through expressing ourselves learn more about how we think. Working in a collective gave us all more courage, we supported each other to speak our truth and from the beginning we acknowledged we couldn’t speak for the whole Latin American community. Hopefully by speaking up for ourselves we’re showing everyone they deserve to take up space! It’s not always easy, and we don’t see eye to eye on every issue, which in itself is a beautiful multiplicity.
How do you subvert the “Pablo Escobar” stereotype without letting it define the narrative?
The title is a reclamation of our identity against the slurs thrown our way for being Latin American. The stereotype of being related to drug dealers, drugs or cocaine was something we had to deal with a lot in secondary school. We wanted to provoke people to watch the show, since people seem to be obsessed with Escobar, we knew it would be a great way to get them into the theatre. We use the stereotype to our advantage, and we don’t mention him specifically within our story. Everyone knows that drug cartels are engaged in criminal activity, but what we felt was less understood was how multinational companies, including British banks, have enabled and profited off those crimes, for example through money laundering.
What has your relationship with Brixton’s Latinx community directly shifted in the script?
Alongside the theatre show we have curated a Latin X Brixton Festival running at Brixton House, with workshops, food, talks, DJs, exhibitions. It’s a whole day of free events taking place on Saturday 18 April, open to everyone.
Where do you draw the line between activism and entertainment—and do you ever want to blur it more?
We are strong believers that the arts is a political space. In our work there isn’t a strict line between activism or entertainment. Toni Cade Bambara said that artists are responsible for making the revolution irresistible, and that’s what we set out to do, through populist entertainment featuring dance numbers, glittering costumes, jokes, a thrilling story, great music.