An unlikely duo find common ground wrestling with loss, grief and forgivenessA young Mexican American man reluctantly enters a rundown former synagogue, now a community center, in the barrio of East Los Angeles, where he’s been sent by his probation officer for weekly “therapy” with an aging rabbi as a condition of his probation after arrest for assault.

Carlos Mendoza (“With a zeta” he bristles) is a product of the violent cholo (gang) culture, who, at 22, has already lost his closest friend and both his parents, leaving him the guardian of his 17-year-old sister, Elena. Rabbi Feldman is coming to terms with his own tortured grief after losing his wife to cancer, and his son, who struggled with mental illness.

That’s the premise of first-time playwright Gabe Ortiz’s “Kaddish for the Barrio” (loosely translated as “prayer for the slum”) which had its premiere as the Sarasota Jewish Theatre’s season opener Wednesday night. Over the course of this intense, often dark and deeply moving 90-minute production emerges an unusual bond between these two men that crosses cultural, religious and generational boundaries and unites them in a search for acceptance, forgiveness and the role of faith in guiding us through life’s most painful challenges.

At the start, that common ground is not just elusive, it’s non-existent. Carlos (Brandon Billings) has never been met a rabbi, much less been in a synagogue. (“That like a Catholic church?” he asks, to which Rabbi Feldman, played by Leonard Rubenstein, replies, “Less kneeling, more arguing, same guilt.”) Nor has he any idea what Kaddish (“Cat fish?”) is.

He’s hostile, aggressive and profane to this old man in a baggy black suit with a “beanie” on his head for whom he immediately adopts the sardonic nickname, “Rabie.” Nevertheless, the rabbi, proceeding delicately to prevent his charge from fleeing, sets the required ground rules for their sessions: talking required, no lying and if Carlos is a no show or someone is in danger, he will report it.

Carlos’ s obligation to Elena (Jennifer Vasquez) -- with whom he argues incessantly but to whom he is clearly devoted -- and the threat of prison force him to comply, but with his own condition: “Truth for truth.” For every one thing he agrees to share about his own life, the rabbi must do the same.

Gradually it is revealed that this most unlikely pair have much more in common than they ever could have imagined. Both are suffering from survivor’s guilt, Carlos having lost his closest friend, Angel, in a gang shooting where “the bullet was meant for me,” and the rabbi torn with guilt over the loss of his son who died “not in the way a proud father wishes to admit.”  

Ultimately, the road toward acceptance and absolution for both is through prayer, though the form it takes with each is very different.  For the rabbi, it’s saying the Kaddish in Hebrew, taking three steps back and then three forward to “return to the living and ask for peace”; for Carlos it is the “rhymes” (rap lyrics) he scribbles in a tiny notebook he insists is not a diary or records on cassette tapes, and the graffiti with which he tags his crime-filled neighborhood.

Director Preston Boyd has done a masterful job of maintaining the tension and turmoil between the main characters while haltingly developing a credible bond between the two. Ortiz, who himself grew up in the barrios of East Los Angeles, has an unerring ear for the sing-song tumble of cholo culture dialogue and a nuanced sensitivity to avoiding the overplayed or overdone.

Costume designs for all three characters by Amanda Kai Newman serve to underscore the authenticity of the Chicano culture of the 1980s period in which the play is set.

Rubenstein, in his rumpled black suit or Mister Rogers’ button down sweater, captures the weary air of a deeply committed man of God who nevertheless, is still eternally questioning. Billings, a graduate student at Florida State University, not only looks the part of Carlos – the hairnet, the baggy chinos, the white t-shirt and plaid overshirt buttoned only at the top – but convincingly delivers the dialect in a way that reveals both his character’s belligerent exterior and his fragile interior. Vasquez, a newcomer to the stage, makes a memorable debut in her smaller role which, in the play’s final moments, brings the story full circle.

The audience is seated on three sides of a set (uncredited) that somehow evokes even the funky smell of a rundown community center with its worn carpet, disheveled bookshelves and a cracked stained-glass window of the Hebrew Star of David. Lighting by Michael Pasquini that brings a ray of attention to that cracked window brings the play to a poignant finale.

With the gnarly questions it raises about grief, love, faith and community, “Kaddish for the Barrio” is not always an easy or comfortable play to sit through. But Ortiz can proudly add successful playwright to his bio as an actor, artist and educator. In this time of heightened cultural division and community strife, his play reminds us of the power of prayer, the importance of human connection, and the responsibility we have for each other.

Sarasota Jewish Theatre, “Kaddish for the Barrio,” by Gabe Ortiz, directed by Preston Boyd. Additional performances through October 11 at The Sarasota Players, 3501 S. Tamiami Trail, Sarasota. Tickets $24-36 at sarasotajewishtheatre.com