America is a country of immigrants, a true statement if you ignore the fact that millions of indigenous peoples lived here long before European sailing ships ever broke the horizon.
But once the Old World folks started arriving, there was no turning back. Waves of huddled masses from every corner of the globe have made their way to America for a new life of freedom, opportunity, and Mickey Mouse.
That’s the promise, at least. The reality is much more complicated.
ExPats Theatre’s intriguing new show, Coming to America: An Immigrant Cabaret, explores this country’s messy contradictions through the eyes of four immigrant artists living in Washington, DC: Erick Acuña of Peru, Karin Rosnizeck of Germany, Vidyuth Sreenivasan of India, and Jacqueline Youm of Senegal.
Through a series of lively personal stories, sketches, songs, and projected video interviews, the show holds up a mirror to our country, exposing the truth of both its unbridled possibilities and ever-present limitations. Coming to America, co-written by the full cast and directed by Rosnizeck, also plays up and pokes fun at American stereotypes, as well as the actors’ own native countries.
As the show begins, the actors enter one by one dressed in their native costumes, each giving a short summary of the land they left behind.
Youm describes life in a peaceful African village, her soft West African accent lulling us into an idyllic setting as she arranges a bowl of flowers. She then asks the audience if we’d like to see a native dance. We oblige, of course, and Youm performs with vigor, with the dynamic moves we’ve come to expect from African dance.
Then she snaps out of the character and in her best flat Mid-Atlantic voice, tells us the scene is not true. She’s actually a lawyer who grew up in a privileged family, going to private schools and living around the world with her diplomat father.
The others shared familiar tales of how they ended up in the DMV, coming over as college students, or following loved ones, and then falling in love with the country.
Sreenivasan’s tale got a laugh as he described coming to DC after acquiring his master’s degree in international relations from a Scottish university. Optimistic that he’d land an important agency consulting job, he quickly realized DC is filled with people holding the exact same credentials. “You can’t throw a stone without hitting a consultant.”
Rosnizeck proudly describes her upbringing in the beautiful mountains of Bavaria, which she implies is the true heart of Germany. It’s when she falls in love with an American at the U.S. consulate in Germany, where she works, that she follows him back across the Atlantic. Acuña talks about his upbringing in chaotic Lima during a period when his country was at war with the Shining Path. Their terrorist bombs prompt him to study law and eventually seek a master’s degree in the U.S.
Each introduction feels like a personal conversation, as the cast breaks the fourth wall to engage directly with the audience.
Acuña and the others initially appear enthralled with the chance to come to America.
In the first big scene change, the cast comes out wearing cowboy hats, jeans, and cowboy boots, after ditching their traditional garb (kudos to costume designer Alisa Mandel, who dresses the actors through a series of costumes, capturing the sartorial essence of each scene).
Their optimism is palpable in the first song of the evening, a rousing rendition of Neil Diamond’s iconic song “America.”
This upbeat feeling about America continues through the first part of the show, as each describes their opportunities to advance. America is a land where anything is possible, even starting a theater company, winks Rosnizeck, who is the founder of ExPats.
The optimistic vibe is captured in music to a parody of ABBA’s “Take a Chance on Me.”
But soon we realize that not everything is sweet apple pie and white picket fences. Sreenivasan has trouble finding work, and so joins an improv comedy class. Sadly, he recounts how the others don’t invite him for drinks after class. He wonders if his “Indianness” is holding him back, and if he should “melt” into the pot of traditional American manhood, conversing about college sports and such.
The others roundly tell him, “No, don’t melt!”
The show then moves on to a series of sketches that make fun of the stereotypes of both Americans and expats. In one, Rosnizeck complains that America had undrinkable coffee until the arrival of Starbucks. Youm takes on the role of a Starbucks barista who shuts down the ever-increasing complexity of Rosnizeck’s demanding order. Nope, a large latte it is, lady.
In another, Youm again plays a server in a restaurant where excess and privileged personalization are the order of the day. At the end, Youm scoops the dishes into the tablecloth and throws everything in the garbage can, to the dismay of Rosnizeck’s German sensibilities around recycling.
The song that follows, “The Recycle Rap,” a parody of “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang, is a musical highlight of the evening.
The small pit orchestra, consisting of guitarist Erik Sharar and drummer Dominique Patrick Noel, is ably led by pianist and music director Zak Sandler. Choreography for the rap and the other tunes worked well on the small stage (choreographer Sarah Frances Williams).
Other sketches highlighting how we perceive (or misperceive) one another’s cultures include Sreenivasan teaching a yoga class and directing Acuña through a series of poses. In a flit, Rosnizeck and Youm enter the class and take a series of selfies as they giggle, obviously more concerned with how their poses will play out on social media.
Another sketch is a dating game show where each contestant shares their homeland views of sensuality and sex, and how they contrast with those of Americans.
Rosnizeck’s idea of a perfect Sunday afternoon, for instance, is to lie naked by a lake with her boyfriend reading German and American beat poets (not a bad idea, actually). Acuña says he’s not particularly macho by Latin standards, but when he starts dancing, the ladies take notice. Sreenivasan says Indian men land near the bottom of the sexy totem pole, and the only way they can be alone with Western women is to fix their computers. Youm sadly claims that Black women are at the very bottom of the totem pole.
In a personal monologue, Youm describes how she was once a target of racism in the liberal city of Portland, Oregon. A van pulled up next to her and her sister, and a white arm threw a plastic cup of soda at them.
Given today’s fraught political climate, the show could have dwelled much more on the horrors that we’re all witnessing. Only a few nods are directed at the current administration’s crackdown on immigrants. A projected image of ICE agents manhandling a target elicits boos from the audience. Acuña shares his fears of also being a target, just for the color of his skin, and how he now carries his residency papers, and even his passport, as he goes about the city.
The projected images of ICE and other scenes, both harrowing and beautiful, along with interviews with immigrants, support the show’s context and are very effective. Kudos to projections designer Sophie Smrck, along with lighting designer Ian Claar and sound designer Ahmed Eldawah.
But in the end, the message is not that America has gone to xenophobic hell. It’s much more nuanced than that. For immigrants, America will remain a place of hope and desire, even today. America has never been perfect, but has any country?
The evening ends with a genuinely heartfelt reprise of Diamond’s “America.” The audience joins in by waving small American flags — “They’re coming to America … today!”
Running Time: Two hours, no intermission.
Coming to America: An Immigrant Cabaret plays through October 18, 2026, presented by ExPats Theatre, performing at Atlas Performing Arts Center, 1333 H Street NE, Washington, DC, 20002. For information or to purchase tickets ($29.75 student, $49.75 seniors, $54.75 adults), call the Box Office at (202) 399-7993, ext. 501, or go online.
Ages: 18+ (Adults only)
Content Warnings: This production includes mild swearing or “coarse” language and depictions of sexual content.
