Will Brill, Tamara Sevunts, Andrea Martin, Raffi Barsoumian, and Nael Nacer Photo by Julieta Cervantes

With direction by the formidable David Cromer, Meet the Cartozians–yes, the title is in direct reference to keeping up with a certain reality-television family–examines the Armenian American experience a century apart. The play unfolds across two distinct time periods: The first act is set in Portland, Oregon in 1923/1924, and the second act takes place in Glendale, California in 2024.

We first meet Armenian-born Tatos Cartozian (Nael Nacer), a historical figure who had successfully gained U.S. citizenship in 1923. However, his status was later revoked after he was lawfully determined to be a non-white person and, therefore, did not have the constitutional rights to naturalization. The Cartozian case was argued in the federal district court where anthropologists presented archaeological evidence that Armenians are in fact white.

Echoing the British social dramas of the early twentieth century (such as those by George Bernard Shaw, Harley Granville Barker, and Harold Brighouse), Act I investigates the effects these circumstances have on the family, including Tatos's mother Markrid (Andrea Martin), daughter Hazel (Tamara Sevunts), and son Vahan (Raffi Barsoumian). Tatos's defense lawyer Wallace McCamant (Will Brill) starts to build a case, but simultaneously reveals deep familial rifts, particularly arguments over assimilation and who is more white, and the lingering trauma of the Armenian Genocide from just ten years before. (Tatiana Kahvegian's dioramic scenic design, with its multiple corridors and concealed rooms, is a fascinating visual manifestation of the complex family secrets and suppressed emotional turmoil. Stacey Derosier's atmospheric lighting and Enver Chakartash's retro costumes help set the mood.)

Nael Nacer, Raffi Barsoumian, Andrea Martin, Susan Pourfar Photo by Julieta Cervantes

As they wait for Miss Cartozian to make her grand entrance, the coterie–consisting of an activist/artist (Susan Pourfar), college professor (Barsoumian), a council member (Nacer), and the president of the Glendale Armenian Historical Society (Martin, who is priceless and showing off her gift to sardonically hurl an insult with an ingratiating smile)–argue over the gains and losses resulting from the century-old court decision that purportedly settled the racial question.

Even the show's harried director of photography, Alan O'Brien (Brill), who claims to be descended from "Black Irish," is drawn into the debate, admitting the complexity of racial categories. (Google, it seems, provides no help in settling questions about Armenian classifications.) When the show's guests confront him about unfairly comparing his background to their personal experiences with discrimination, he pushes back and delivers what is perhaps the play's funniest line: "I'm sorry, but it just seems to me that there is nothing whiter than being able to wake up one day and just decide you're black."

Under Cromer's superb direction and the ensemble's masterful acting, the two acts effectively complement each other. The first act features a turbulent domestic period drama, albeit with a perfunctory romantic plot; the more sharply written second reveals deep fractures within the larger contemporary community. (Structurally, the play is reminiscent of Bruce Norris's Clybourne Park.) Together, they disclose the heterodoxy hidden within a presumably monolithic ethnic community. Though there is some repetitiveness in key points about cultural assimilation in both acts, Monahon's satirical jabs are most potent when aimed at overly complicated identity politics, the fame economy, and heightened dietary sensitivity.

There is a great deal of discussion about Armenian cuisine, including references to simit, boregs, and kadayif. As a play, Meet the Cartozians, with its blend of American and Armenian history and heaping dose of pop cultural references, is the equivalent of a deeply satisfying meal that is both comfortingly familiar and wonderfully unexpected.