TV Review: Acapulco Is The Place To Be On Apple TV Plus
In Latin America classism is rampant, and 99% of our telenovelas are based on a singular concept of the rich person that falls in love with a poor person or the poor person that becomes suddenly rich and gets revenge on the rich person that left them because they are poor. From its beginnings, the class/ gringo divide is palpable, but if there is one thing that Latinos are, it is funny and warm. While Acapulco hints and throws in the sad moments to gaining wealth goals when you are wise person, overall, it is a series for hope; something Latinos have aplenty.
Watching Acapulco felt like a mix between The Wonder Years and Saved By The Bell; combining the sweet nostalgia of the former with the colorfulness of the latter. Created by Eduardo Cisneros, the show is tender and sweet in tone, in part, because Enrique Arrizon, young Maximo, feels like a combination of Ted Lasso and Coco’s Miguel. He is a determined optimist with flaws that he refuses to bring him down. It is powerful and cheering to watch him move through the biggest hotel in Acapulco, Las Colinas; a place he hopes will be the starting point to elevate his dedicated mother Nora (Vanessa Bauche) and sprightly younger sister, Sara (Regina Reynoso), to wealth. Seeing him, a good person, surrounded by good people makes you invest in his future as he believes in the same truths we all do: if you just try hard enough and meet the right person, you will rocket to success. which is were Eugenio Derbez, as older Maximo, steps in.
Seeing Derbez, I was not surprised that the show had his titular, self-deprecating humor. He stars as our narrator and fuels that Maximo is a humble man of starry, excited ambition that will make it big, but not without a few heartbreaks and missed chances. Through his voice-over and funny “uncle-nephew” chats, he solidifies that no success comes without a billion failures, nor does it mean EVERYTHING works out. This gives the show a note of mystery as to what, in Maximo’s life, does not flourish because he deserves it ALL. With his trusted buddy at hand, Memo (Fernando Carsa) and his crush Julia (Camila Perez), Las Colinas feels like a land of opportunity/ potential The Office remake; finding humor and heartbreak in the open desire to “gringo-wash” Mexican culture, language, and people while using its land, resources, and locals to work. Now, if Memo, Julia, and Maximo could just impress fitness guru turned Las Colinas owner, Diane, (Jessica Collins), a stiff hotel manager named Pablo (Damián Alcázar), and fellow co-workers/ competition for his crush, Chord Overstreet’s Chad and Rafael Cebrian’s Hector, this trio would be set.
Acapulco crosses between a noble, earnest look at a kind kid learning to grow into a better man and a workplace sitcom that you hope Miguel Scott decides to work in. Yet, the friendship and love that blossoms on the screen to show people can survive their material lack through their spiritual riches felt like the essence of Latinidad and the core to “representation’s” general argument. Part of why Latino representation struggles and is still rare is because: A) toxic stereo-typing B) though we have lineage in whiteness, blackness, indigenous, and even Asian and Arabic ancestry, many of us cannot fully fit into either identity, are raised as a blend, or identify solely as “Latinos:” the only identity that fully takes us in as either a combination of the latter or simply because we were raised Latin American. In essence, it can feel like we are a square being pushed to fit in a hole clearly shaped like a circle because some either do not believe or even desire the square to exist or take up an existential mentality that I can only frame as a metaphor, “If I am born from my parents, am I still my own person or a combination of both?” How much are you influenced till you are deemed unoriginal?” I state this importance because Acapulco comes out just at the cusp of Latino Heritage Month and our struggle to be seen continues. Moreover, “identity” is at the core of Maximo’s journey, particularly because he dreams of being “the owner,” the guy with power and things, but the show places delicate, emotional hints at the love he might lose or sacrifice to get it.
If our peoples are more than a union of oppressed, bashed, yet stunning cultures but debated as an official race, our story is questioned for how it fits or is worth hearing in America; a nation defined by its cruel, racial history but still struggles to approach it or even see that ethnic hatred and xenophobia are also apart of racism and its current existence. While Acapulco may have the “Latino maids,” it understands that the fight for representation is not about trying to assimilate or wholly enter forced stereo-types or others’ identities as much as asking for ours to be humanized. Moreover, there is nothing wrong with working in service, what is wrong is treating the service like they have no life beyond how they serve you. Nearly everyone on screen, and all the Latinos are folding clothes and scrubbing floors, but they dream, love, and hope to be happy, which is so HUMAN! Thus, Acapulco summarizes the core importance of Latino representation: let me tell you who I am so you can see you are like me versus you telling me who I am so you can say you will never like me. New episodes of Acapulco premiere on Fridays, starting October 8, Apple TV Plus.
