Entertainment
'Where are you really from?' A Latine landmark disrupts Pasadena Playhouse's 100-year history
The pillows are fluffed, the cocktails are mixed, the enchiladas are warming in the oven. Ilana and Enrique Gomez have done everything to ready their Pasadena mansion for the arrival of their daughter’s boyfriend. But nothing could prepare them for who the person at their front door turns out to be.
In Gloria Calderón Kellett’s new play “One of the Good Ones,” this scenario leads to frank conversation, unfolding in real time, about unconscious biases, intergenerational expectations and who gets to claim Latino and American identity. (Between spit takes, hot flashes and swings at a very full piñata, that is.)
“It’s ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner’ meets ‘Disgraced,’” teased director Kimberly Senior. “And even though it’s a one-act play, the second act is the conversation you’ll probably be having afterward.”
While the play’s title reflects how the onstage parents (Lana Parrilla and Carlos Gómez) view their only daughter (Isabella Gomez), it also echoes how Calderón Kellett, one of the industry’s few Latina showrunners (“One Day at a Time,” “With Love”), says she’s been received during her Hollywood career: with “zoo animal fascination with what it’s like to be a non-white man telling stories.” And the world-premiere comedy, running through April 7, is the first Latine commission in the 100-year history of the Tony-winning Pasadena Playhouse — a landmark worth celebrating, though sorely overdue for a Los Angeles theater company.
Ahead of the play’s opening night on Sunday, Calderón Kellett had a candid chat with The Times about writing Latino characters who are thriving, learning about theater from Norman Lear and making even the toughest conversations laugh-out-loud funny.
How did “One of the Good Ones” come to be?
I wanted to write something about the complexities of identity. Before the strike, I spoke to Danny [Feldman, artistic director of the Pasadena Playhouse] about the fact that, though I’ve been a [television] writer for 15 years on many shows, when I did “One Day at a Time,” all people were interested in talking about was my Latinidad. I’m happy to talk about it, because I love who I am and I’m proud of my parents and where they came from, but it’s all people wanted to talk about. And I would get it from both sides, from the white perspective and from the Latino perspective — this sort of zoo animal fascination with what it’s like to be a non-white man telling stories.
So I had to navigate being a storyteller and constantly defending your point of view in the world, which I found bizarre because it’s not something my white counterparts ever have to do. [“One Day at a Time” co-showrunner] Mike Royce was like, “Man, I just get to show up and tell stories and jokes, you have to come in with the weight of the world on your shoulders to represent your community. It’s so much heavier, what you have to do, and I see you.” I burst into tears and he hugged me.
Isabella Gomez, Carlos Gómez and Lana Parrilla in “One of the Good Ones” at the Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
The play discusses identity — Latino and American — from multiple perspectives within one family: one parent is of Puerto Rican and Mexican descent, another is Cuban with grandparents from Spain. What inspired these characters and their conversation?
Having to navigate those spaces myself. I’m a West Coast Cuban who grew up in Portland, Ore., and then San Diego. And then in Los Angeles, I was constantly being told as an actress in auditions that I’m not Latina enough, I’m not dark enough, I need more of an accent to play this Latina character. I’m literally 100% Latina! So is identity based on where you live, where your parents lived, what language you speak, what you think it’s supposed to look like?
I also wanted it to be an intergenerational conversation. Writing “One Day at a Time,” I had so many talks with my viejitos about LGBTQIA issues and using Latino/Latina/Latinx — all of that stuff, they don’t know anything about it, they think it’s all crazy. But I loved talking to them about these things, everyone asking questions and trying to understand each other. So though everyone [onstage] is both right and wrong, and though they might not get any definitive answers by the end of the conversation, that they’re able to talk about it, chip away at it and maybe, over time, they’ll get it — that’s the answer.
This discussion unfolds in real time, and though it does get heavy at times, it’s also hilarious. How did you find the funny in such complex topics?
The idea of who gets to claim an identity, that fine line between cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation, it’s so interesting! And one thing I wanted to do: there are lines in here that white people constantly say to Latino people in real life. Like, “Where are you really from?” “Some of our best friends are Latino!” We get that stuff all the time. So I purposefully wanted to see that in the mouths of the Latino characters, let this conversation unfold and have the audience be a fly on the wall in this home.
And with all storytelling, specificity is universal. Like, there wouldn’t have been anybody who walked through that front door who would’ve been good enough for their daughter, and that’s something every parent can relate to. So if you’re not Latino, there’s still going to be things in here that resonate with you. I hope the audience laughs a lot, and then talks for hours afterward. For me, that’d be the biggest win.
“I hope the audience laughs a lot, and then talks for hours afterward,” said Gloria Calderón Kellett.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
It’s a bittersweet milestone that your play is the first Latine commission in Pasadena Playhouse’s 100-year history. So I do love that you highlight the city’s Indigenous roots in the script when matriarch Ilana says, “I was born in Mexico. It’s just not called that anymore.”
The idea of America as the “great experiment” is so interesting, and who feels entitled to this land is fascinating, because it’s not theirs either. And I just had to challenge the idea that anyone feels entitled to this place more than anyone else, with the exception of the native people who actually are from this land.
This is actually the first play I’ve written that is specifically Latino. All the plays I’ve written before were an answer to what I wasn’t finding when I was auditioning as an actor; they were mostly for myself and my friends, just existing as humans in spaces. And those plays worked well for me because they got me staffed on TV shows.
Do you feel pressure debuting your first Latino play in Los Angeles?
I know that one story can’t speak to all experiences; this is this specific family in this specific time on this specific land.
I am really proud of the fact that this play exists. Our stories are only really invested in when we are in trauma or when we are glorified drug dealers, and then that’s how people who do not know people from my community think we are, because they don’t know themselves. Latinos are 20% of the United States population, and still only 5% [of actors in leading roles], and I can’t even imagine what the numbers are for theater. I’m curious about how many Latino productions are being done, and of those productions, how many are border stories or drug narratives, and how many are just Latino people living their lives and being happy.
And the other thing is, we’re always poor — and that 100% exists, but I also know a lot of Latinos who are thriving. So it’s very important for me to show that on this land, there are Latinos living in big houses, who send their kids to college, who have thriving businesses. And yet, they still walk with a lot of these issues about identity and connection on their shoulders.
Carlos Gómez, Nico Greetham, Isabella Gomez and Lana Parrilla in “One of the Good Ones” at the Pasadena Playhouse.
(Jeff Lorch)
How have your years writing for television benefited your playwriting?
I learned so much from working with Norman Lear. Norman loved the theater, and because he wanted to bring the theater to the everyday family in their households, his multicam sitcoms were very different: the proscenium, long scenes, pages and pages with no jokes. Because it wasn’t always about the jokes, it was about the conversation. You’re there to tell a story; sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s not. People processing their feelings might mean acting out or silence or awkwardness; it might be scary and then funny again. Real life is all of those things. That was the type of sitcom he liked, and that’s the type of sitcom I like.
For this play, I get to sit with that at length — no scenes, one location, all in real time. It’s building the tension with the audience live and not letting them off the hook until the end.
What’s been the hardest part about writing this play?
The biggest challenge for me is the fact that there’s so much I want to say. I feel like it could be four hours long! I’m telling myself, “You don’t have to get all of it in this one play. You don’t have to fix all of it. Just tell this one story.”
“I hope this show is successful and will lead to many more stories where the focus is on the thriving, not the trauma,” said Gloria Calderón Kellett.
(Myung J. Chun / Los Angeles Times)
What is your hope for “One of the Good Ones” after this run ends?
Whether it’s a pilot or a play, I always love putting up new work, and this has been a wonderful opportunity to stretch my creative muscles. I would love to keep developing it at other theaters, and I’m hopeful that it will lead to audiences’ conversations, healing and understanding of one another.
I also think a lot about who gets to hold a microphone and tell a story. I’m trying to do it in a way that is inclusive and responsible for what I want the future to look like. So I hope this show is successful and will lead to many more stories where the focus is on the thriving, not the trauma. And I hope they come from many different points of view, because I get called a “unicorn” a lot, like I’m the only one, right? No, I promise, I’m not. There’s more of us, and we’ve got work to do.
‘One of the Good Ones’
Where: Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena
When: 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Fridays, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends April 7.
Tickets: Start at $35
Contact: (626) 356-7529 or pasadenaplayhouse.org
Running time: 1 hour, 30 minutes
Entertainment
Kris Jenner’s mom, beloved matriarch Mary Jo ‘MJ’ Shannon, dies at 91
Kris Jenner’s mom, Mary Jo “MJ” Shannon, has died.
Jenner announced the news of Shannon’s death Thursday in an Instagram tribute. She was 91.
“Today, we said goodbye to my beautiful Mommy MJ. … There are no words that could ever capture what she has meant to me or the heartbreak of having to say goodbye. My mom was the heart of our family.”
Jenner wrote that her mother, the matriarch of the Jenner-Kardashian clan, taught her everything that “truly matters.”
“To love your family fiercely, to be kind, to show up for the people you love, and to never take a single moment together for granted,” she wrote alongside a glamour shot of Shannon. “She taught us that family is everything. She showed us how to love unconditionally and how to find joy in the little moments. She showed me how to face life’s challenges with resilience and faith.”
Jenner concluded the post with an open letter to MJ:
“Mom, thank you for every sacrifice you made, every piece of wisdom you shared, and every moment you loved us so completely. I will miss our daily talks, your smile, your laughter… Our hearts are broken, but we find comfort knowing that love like yours never truly leaves us. Your love will live on in our family, in our traditions, in every moment we are together, and in every life you touched. When I look at my kids and my grandkids, I will forever see pieces of you in all of us. There is not a part of me that isn’t shaped by you. And if I have done anything right in this world, it’s because I spent my life trying to live in a way that would make you proud. Every memory, every moment, every blessing, it was all because of you, and I will forever thank God every single day for making you my mommy. My heart is broken into a million pieces… thank you for giving me the greatest childhood and oh what a beautiful blessed life… I love you forever Mommy. Thank you for giving us everything.”
Born Mary Jo Campbell on July 26, 1934, MJ married her high school sweetheart, whom she divorced two months later. Then in 1954, she wed Jenner’s dad, Robert “Bob” True Houghton. She gave birth to Jenner the following year and Jenner’s late sister, Karen Houghton, in 1958. After seven years of marriage, MJ and Bob called it quits and she married Harry Shannon, a businessman who helped raise Jenner and her sister in San Diego, where MJ ran a children’s clothing store.
Harry Shannon died in 2003.
MJ was featured on the famous clan’s E! reality series “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” and the follow-up Hulu series “The Kardashians” numerous times over the years. In a clip from the show, granddaughter Kim Kardashian detailed that her grandmother had survived colon cancer and breast cancer and, in her sunset years, struggled with sickness resulting from the cancer treatments.
In one clip from the show, MJ said she didn’t have an appetite without taking her “medication” first. Then she persuaded her daughter, Jenner, to have marijuana gummies with her. Together they lit some incense and munched on muffins and chips and guacamole.
In another clip, Jenner interviews MJ about her life, and during the sit-down, Jenner asks MJ, “What’s your biggest fear?”
MJ replies, “I try not to fear,” and then follows up asking Jenner what her biggest fear is.
Jenner starts to cry and says, “I don’t want to say it. I can’t believe I’m crying. … Just, losing someone.”
On Thursday, Kim Kardashian caught flak online when a post featuring the Skims mogul and her sister Khloe Kardashian swigging tequila from a boat on a lake published shortly after Jenner announced the news of MJ’s death.
“This post was scheduled a few days ago before we lost MJ, so its timing came right alongside her passing,” Kim wrote in the comment section of the post. “I’ve been by my mom and grandma’s side this past week, and my heart is completely with my family right now. We love and miss her so deeply, and in the days ahead, we’ll be focusing on celebrating her beautiful life.”
Kim followed up with a post celebrating her grandmother, writing, “My sweet Grandma MJ, my best friend, my gossip buddy, my forever twin … You taught all of us the importance of family, and those values are something we’ll carry with us forever!!!!! You were the woman who showed me what it meant to be a hardworking businesswoman. You gave me my very first job at your store in San Diego and taught me lessons about work ethic, strength, and confidence that I’ve carried with me ever since.
“You always believed in me, championed me, and were my safe place. You truly were the matriarch of our family, and your love is woven into all of us. I know you’re at peace now. Give Papa Harry, Aunt Karen, and my dad a hug for me. You will always be a part of me, I love you soooooo much and I will miss you forever and ever. … YOU ARE THE BEST OF US!!!”
Two weeks ago, Jenner’s bodyguard, Mason Haynes, who also worked as a close protection guard for other members of the Kardashian-Jenner family, died in a traffic accident. He was 52.
Movie Reviews
Movie Review: “The Odyssey”
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Entertainment
Contributor: Hollywood will stop fueling racism when audiences demand better
Exploiting racism has been a profitable strategy in Hollywood since the dawn of filmmaking: 111 years ago, D.W. Griffith’s film “The Birth of a Nation” was incredibly popular and influential, while also being so racist that it was considered controversial even in its own day.
The industry saw immediately just how lucrative fear could be. More than a century later, there is always someone in the entertainment media willing to trade in racist tropes for money, as well as an audience ready to receive them.
Two new films, “Citizen Vigilante” and “Run, Fight, Hide: Infidels,” demonstrate that streaming platforms and social media no longer simply distribute controversial content but in fact thrive on content that provokes, polarizes and sustains attention, regardless of the social cost.
Both of these xenophobic and Islamophobic films are being pushed as “anti-woke” vehicles, deliberately engineered to bypass traditional critical reception and capitalize on a fractured media ecosystem. “Citizen Vigilante,” which features an American protagonist killing dark-skinned immigrants and Muslims in an unnamed European setting, was denied a rating certificate by the German government for inciting violence. Yet despite that determination, the film secured global reach through decentralized digital distribution and high-profile promotion from Elon Musk.
Similarly, “Run, Fight, Hide: Infidels” — a campus siege narrative evoking 1980s action film nostalgia that leans heavily into outdated, post-9/11 anxieties — relies on a built-in conservative media apparatus to guarantee financial returns. The film is produced by the conservative media figure Ben Shapiro and the Daily Wire, which he co-founded. It is a sequel to a 2020 film that was their film company’s premiere.
But while promoters of such films frame their work as a brave rebellion, the reality is much more sinister: rehashing 40-year-old tropes while invoking conspiracy theories of Muslims bringing sharia law to America, because outrage is cheap to produce and easy to monetize.
Stories matter. Stories shape how we see one another. They influence what we love, what we celebrate, whom we trust, whom we understand and whom we fear.
Since January, the Muslim Public Affairs Council has documented a sharp escalation in threats and attacks targeting Muslims and Islamic institutions across the United States, including vandalism, shootings, bomb threats, attempted assassinations and physical assaults. These are not isolated incidents. They reflect a broader climate in which dehumanizing representation increasingly manifests as real-world violence.
Entertainment and politics increasingly employ the same tactic as one another, recycling narratives of fear and “otherness” to mobilize audiences, voters and consumers. When political leaders encourage those narratives, as President Trump recently did by amplifying and commenting on a photo of young Muslim American students in hijab, they further normalize the same stereotypes that entertainment companies have learned to monetize.
Yet while the social costs continue to mount, the economic incentives remain firmly intact. “Citizen Vigilante” earned a 93% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes despite receiving just a 6% critics’ score. More tellingly, it quickly climbed to the top of Amazon’s and Apple TV’s paid video-on-demand charts.
And this isn’t just a Muslim and immigrant issue — and it’s not only about who is portrayed on screens, but also who is not. Representation has been backsliding, and audiences are left with fewer opportunities to see the reality and humanity of diverse communities, making them more vulnerable to fear-based narratives.
According to a 2026 report from the nonprofit Define American, which tracks representation across television and film, Latinos account for only 23% of immigrant characters represented on screen, even though they make up more than 40% of the immigrant population in the United States. In 2020, 50% of immigrants on screen were Latino.
The industry’s defense is that whitewashed and xenophobic films reflect audience demand. But the recent research by Define American challenges this assumption. Data show that nuanced, multidimensional storytelling, in which immigrants and minority characters are woven into the fabric of everyday narratives rather than tokenized or villainized, actually leads to greater audience engagement and deeper systemic understanding.
Entertainment doesn’t simply reflect culture; it teaches us who belongs within it. Studios, distributors, streaming platforms and filmmakers all have a responsibility to reject narratives that portray immigrants as enemies and instead embrace stories that reflect the diversity and complexity of our world. At the same time — as with voters — the power ultimately rests with consumers. The choice to demand storytelling that challenges prejudice rather than profits from it belongs to all of us.
Sue Obeidi is the senior vice president of the Muslim Public Affairs Council Hollywood Bureau. Jose Antonio Vargas is the founder of Define American.
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