“When you lose a son, what do you do?” The pointed question posed by Manuel Oliver is filled with sorrow. Oliver lost his only son on February 14, 2018, in the harrowing school shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
Oliver could have just laid down, wallowed in the depths of his anguish. But this Venezuelan-born former restaurateur turned artist and creative director turned his grief into activism and his activism into art.
The result has so far included a traveling art installation featuring murals, sculptures, and paintings, including portraits pierced with 17 holes representing the 17 high schoolers who were murdered that Valentine’s Day nearly seven years ago. Beyond this installation, Oliver has memorialized his son in GUAC, a one-man performance piece that enshrines his beloved lost child with the fierce and abiding love only a parent can have. Oliver is performing in GUAC through February 16, 2025, at Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company. It’s a must-see for the searing ripped-from-the-headlines story and inspiring and activist-driven intentions.
On a bare stage, with just a stool, yellow oversized letters spelling out GUAC — the endearing nickname his friends gave him when they couldn’t say Joaquin — and an outsized panel covered with brown packing paper, Oliver paints, with both words and brushes, a vivid portrait of his lost son.
As much as this is a tragedy about how this bright, athletic young man’s life was cut short in an unbearable manner — four bullets shot from an AR-15 automatic rifle — GUAC is an unexpectedly enjoyable, at times funny, at other times sweet paean to a gaping loss.
While Oliver is not a trained actor, he has a charismatic and natural presence on stage. His thick salt-and-pepper hair and beard, a T-shirt, torn and paint-splattered jeans, and worn pink sneakers — his late son’s — mark him as a casual, easygoing dad, or papi. The audience sits rapt for nearly 100 minutes of Oliver’s reminiscences about family and friends, carpooling his son to school, and lackadaisically coaching a group of Guac’s friends on a community basketball team. Using a plastic milk crate filled with brushes and paints, he paints and tears off sheets of brown paper, revealing life-sized photos of the Oliver family, including mom Patricia, step-sister, the family dog, and, finally, his son. Guac is rendered in black-and-white, slim, athletic, wearing sneakers, jeans, and a plain white T-shirt, looking out, a teenager not yet fledged, but readying for his flight.
By breaking the theatrical fourth wall, Oliver engages the audience like friends. He’s the kind of guy you want to hang out with over nachos and beer, or red wine. At one point he reminds us that he’s been to Washington, DC, before. Back in 2022, he climbed a construction crane near the White House and then unfurled a banner with his son’s face and the message: “45K people died from gun violence on your watch.” The direct message was intended for former President Biden and eventually got Oliver a White House invite, but no real change in gun policies, at least not yet.
In the tradition of Brazilian theater artist Augusto Boal, GUAC is pure activist theater. Throughout, Oliver engages the audience through his personal storytelling and pointed moments where the audience is urged to participate. This technique captivates viewers with a deeply personal and emotional story, then moves them toward action, effecting change. Oliver’s persona is part everyman, part every parent until his unfathomable loss.
Yet there’s something exceptional in the way he harnessed his grief into growth and change. His target: the $9 billion profit that the U.S. gun industry reaps each year, along with the many politicians who receive National Rifle Association contributions for their campaigns. For Oliver, his adopted country, the United States, is oppressed by the hegemony of gun manufacturers and lobbyists. His ask — really demand — is that we, the people, must not sit idly by. He demands engagement and action in the best sense of activist performance.
For Oliver, art, performance, and activism are the most effective tools for spreading his message for stricter gun laws, regardless of party or political affiliation. It is significant that he has accomplished both in a compelling, entertaining, and emotionally resonant show that celebrates his late son while inducing viewers to do more.
Additionally, Oliver has filled the Woolly Mammoth Theater lobby with an exhibition of art that speaks to the issue of gun violence in this country. And over the weekend, the school bus the Oliver parents use to travel the country will be parked near the theater, and opened as an activist space to learn about the issue, to spark action against gun violence. Also, like any good marketer, there are T-shirts, books, and ephemera for sale to spread the word and spark conversations and action.
Running Time: Approximately one hour and 40 minutes, no intermission.
GUAC plays through February 16, 2025, at Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, 641 D St NW, Washington, DC. All tickets are $30 (with discounts available) and can be purchased online, by phone at 202-393-3939 (Wednesday–Sunday, 12:00–6:00 p.m.), by email (tickets@woollymammoth.net), or in person at the Sales Office at 641 D Street NW, Washington, DC (Wednesday–Sunday, 12:00–6:00 p.m.). Special benefit-price tickets are $60, with 50% donated to Change the Ref, Oliver’s nonprofit.
COVID Safety: Masks are optional in all public spaces at Woolly Mammoth Theatre except for a mask-required performance Thursday, February 13, at 8 p.m. Woolly’s full safety policy is available here.
GUAC
Written & performed by Manuel Oliver
Co-written by James Clements
Directed by Michael Cotey
Presented in association with Change the Ref and The Public Theater.
Lighting Design: Justine Burke
Sound Design: Grover Hollway
Producer: Michael Cotey
Executive Producer: Patricia Padauy-Oliver
SEE ALSO:
Father of Parkland victim brings one-man activism show to Woolly Mammoth (news story, January 8, 2025)
