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Chimichangas and Zoloft with Fernanda Coppel


I came across Fernanda Coppel’s play Chimichangas and Zoloft two years ago while reading plays for a foundation that honors the memory of my friend and fellow writer, Leah Ryan. The organization’s aim is to support emerging female playwrights with a cash prize and a high-profile reading in New York. I try to parse out my reading for this venture over several weeks but inevitably get behind. Without fail, there are a few crunch days where I pore over a huge stack of manuscripts. I do my best to try to be patient and kind while reading, which is different from actually being patient and kind.

Chimichangas and Zoloft, however, grabbed my attention from the first stage direction; in fact, even the title made me laugh out loud. The play opens with these words: “Lights come up on Sonia, she is 40 years old with circles under her eyes. She packs a duffle bag as she speaks to the audience. The sound of a fart.” I wanted to know why this woman was packing and farting. Not one to hold back, Sonia soon told me almost everything:


What? (to audience) That wasn’t me OKAY. (beat)
What? You think I’m gassy ’cause I ate a chimichanga?
Huh? Maybe it’s because, lately,
vodka tastes like tap water
And my eyes look like a third world country.
OH and smiling, just seems obsolete
My heart feels like a metal weight in my chest
Affecting the gravitational pull of my insides
AND voices of people that died
seem to ring in my ears.
Like an old teacher of mine, who once told me,
“Sonia, youth is walking down a hallway
with hundreds of open doors, and as you get older
and time passes doors close and close …”
AND fast forward to this morning,
I woke up BLOATED after my 40th birthday dinner
’cause I went a little loco and had four fucking chimichangas.
I looked past my panza to see a pair of breasts
That USED to look ambitious on my chest
AND rolled over to see a man
That has these gross gray hairs growing out of his ears,
AND fumbled into my closet to find that my daughter
Gave me a pair of PANTUFLAS for my birthday!
FUCKING PANTUFLAS, I’m 40 not 65, damn it.
This can’t really be how my life turned out, right?
If I met the 20-year-old version
of myself NOW I think she would kick me in the Cho Cho,
so that I could feel SOMETHING, ANYTHING again.
I mean, I’m 40 years old, damn it.
I want to say that with an excited inflection in my voice,
not the pouty tone that mimics my breasts.

I was hooked. The entire play was a delight to read. Though it explored a slew of thorny issues—coming out of the closet, depression, familial lies, and teenage sexuality—it managed to delve into these subjects with a light and assured touch. I also fell in love with the character of Sonia, and I wanted to know more about the person who had created such a funny and deep woman. I was fortunate to meet Coppel soon after at a workshop of her play, The Leak, at INTAR. I was immediately struck by her lovely and open face—it’s impossible not to be. She seemed so happy and vibrant. She was nothing like the knotted and tortured characters in her play. And she was young, very young—25 years young. How could she possibly know what a depressed woman on the cusp of 40 was like?

Sitting with Coppel a few weeks ago at a café in the West Village, she still had that appealing open quality I remembered so well from our first encounter but she also looked very much like a playwright heading into production. She seemed simultaneously full of wonder and full of anxiety. No wonder, Chimichangas will have its world premiere in May on the Atlantic Theater Company’s second stage. And that was not a typo. In a season that offers world premieres by Adam Rapp, Ethan Coen, and John Patrick Shanley, amongst others, Coppel is at least a good decade and a half younger than any of those writers and the only woman of color on the Atlantic’s roster in quite some time. Coppel was born in Mexico and moved with her sister and mother to San Diego when she was three. She is also gay.

Much has been written and debated of late about the underrepresentation of plays by women and minorities on the nation’s stages, and the Atlantic is not known as a theater that has bucked the prevailing trend. I am certain that the number of plays produced by gay female playwrights of color at major theaters is far more negligible. Coppel is aware of this fact, and she is hoping that if Chimichangas is a success more doors will open for minority gay writers at the Atlantic and elsewhere. Christian Parker, the Atlantic’s associate artistic director, wrote to me about this topic, “It’s possible that the subject matter of the play, and the fact that Coppel is such a new playwright in New York, may seem a little outside the box for Atlantic to some people, but [Artistic Director] Neil Pepe and I very specifically set out to keep our audiences on their toes. We work hard, actually, to present a season that is undeniably eclectic in every way.”

Nonetheless, Chimichangas is not your typical Off-Broadway fare, which I view as a very positive thing. In trying to think of something to compare it to, I am hard pressed to find an example. One of Coppel’s favorite writers is John Leguizamo. Her writing shares a similar sharp and bold humor with his, but also has a poetic sparseness that is very much her own. Her style as well as her subject matter is unique. Coppel describes her play as “a story about a mother who has a nervous breakdown on her 40th birthday and leaves her family. While she is gone, her husband starts a passionate affair with another man.” These events unfold through the eyes of Penelope and Jackie, two teenage girls, who are on a parallel journey of self-discovery. Coppel tells me the play is ultimately about all the characters “coming out to themselves.” When I press her about this, she explains that all the characters are forced to face their own truth. One of the compelling things to me about the play is the choices her characters make after they have done this. Nothing is pat or easy.

Coppel’s journey to writing Chimichangas and other plays began at U.C. Santa Cruz. She was planning on studying law, but after seeing a play on campus her freshman year, she went home and wrote one herself. Coppel has been lucky in her mentors and gives them a great deal of credit for her artistic development. One of her teachers at U.C. Santa Cruz, Alma Martinez, encouraged her to apply to graduate school. Coppel ended up at N.Y.U. on a full scholarship. It was there in her final year that she met Marsha Norman. She laughingly tells me that “Chimichangas started as a joke.” Norman asked her class to write the first 10 pages of a play that they did not want to write. Coppel started Chimichangas. She wanted to give up on it, but Norman insisted she keep going. Finally, Coppel fell in love with the two dads in the play and the “joke” ended up becoming her thesis. She followed N.Y.U. with a fellowship at Juilliard, where she has continued to be mentored by Norman, Chris Durang, and Tanya Barfield.

When I first read the title of Coppel’s play, I think I laughed because it was a pairing of two such unlikely things: chimichangas and Zoloft. The Atlantic is an equally unlikely place for this play to debut, but there is so much excitement and energy around this project at the Atlantic and in the theater community, that it might actually be the perfect place for it to premiere. And rather than looking backward at the general lack of plays written by Latina writers presented on New York stages, perhaps one could look at this production as a harbinger of good things to come. Some days a positive slant seems like a more compelling choice. Tomorrow, I could be shaking my fists at the gods of nonprofit theaters, but for the moment my hands prefer to optimistically type. Just call me Polly-anita.

Christian Parker, reiterating the Atlantic’s enthusiasm about this project, tells me, “It’s a great story and reveals Fernanda to be a young writer with a lot on her mind and a really strong voice. We couldn’t be more excited about providing her professional New York debut.” Coppel recommends seeing her play “if you’re bored and feel like spending $45.” I recommend seeing it because she has a completely unique and original voice. And I first realized this after reading so many plays, that I never wanted to read, see, or write another play again. If that doesn’t get you to the theater, I give up.

Chimichangas and Zoloft by Fernanda Coppel, directed by Jaime Castañeda, runs May 23 – June 24 at Atlantic Stage 2 (330 W. 16th Street, Manhattan).  For tickets and further info, visit


Cusi Cram

CUSI CRAM is a playwright, screenwriter, and a sometimes actress. Her plays have been produced by LAByrinth Theater Company, Primary Stages, New Georges, the Williamstown Theatre Festival, and the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, amongst others. She has received three Emmy nominations for her work in children's television and recently finished her second season as a writer on Showtime's The Big C.

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Property Description

Simply fabulous 4 bedroom 2.5 bath home conveniently located in franklin township. This lovely home has a comfortable open floorplan with over 2400 sq ft of living space. Great entertaining space with large kitchen and island, huge fenced in backyard with firepit and nice size deck as well as a patio. 4 bedrooms upstairs and 2 full baths with new carpet and fresh paint. Master retreat boasts vaulted ceiling, en suite bath with dbl sinks and a huge walk in closet. This home is move in ready, close to shopping and interstates, don't miss out on this opportunity, it won't last long.

8628 Coppel Lane Indianapolis IN 46259




4 Beds

2 Full Baths, 1 Half Baths






Franklin Township


Single Family

0.24 acres

Sidewalks, Street Lights

Municipal Water Connected

From Franklin Rd and Southport Rd: Go North on Franklin Rd, then Right on Coppel Lane. Follow around curves. Home is on your Left.







Breakfast Room 10x8 Main
Kitchen 14x12 Main
Laundry Room 9x7 Main
Great Room 21x15 Main
Dining Room 14x12 Main
Living Room 14x14 Main
MasterBedroom 20x14 Upper
Bedroom 4th 12x10 Upper
Bedroom 2nd 14x11 Upper
Bedroom 3rd 14x10 Upper



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Ceiling Raised, Walk In Closet, Wood Work Painted

Foyer Small, Living Room Formal, Laundry Room Main Level

Breakfast Room, Formal Dining Room

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Revelations by the Dads of Teenagers

Theater Review

Chimichangas and Zoloft
Off Broadway, Play
Closing Date:
Atlantic Stage 2, 330 W. 16th St.

One of the most memorable scenes in the television series “Louie” last year was when the title character rocked out to a song by the Who while his daughters looked at him blankly from the back seat of a car. What the vignette dramatized so elegantly was the idea that not only were your parents young once, but also that the people they were then didn’t completely disappear.

That same insight is at the core of the rigid comic architecture of Fernanda Coppel’s “Chimichangas and Zoloft,” an energetic, overstuffed play about girls growing up fast while their fathers strain to recapture their youth. Jackie Martinez (Carmen Zilles) and Penelope Lopez (Xochitl Romero) are privileged suburban Los Angeles teenagers whose frank, ribbing repartee typically begins with this word: “Dude.” Penelope has a new boyfriend, a drug dealer, and Jackie recently came out of the closet to her mother, who has since left town.

Image<strong>Chimichangas and Zoloft </strong> From left, Teddy Ca&#241;ez, Xochitl Romero, Carmen Zilles and Alfredo Narciso in this play by Fernanda Coppel at Atlantic Stage 2.

These young women have a lot on their minds, so much that they aren’t noticing the surprising developments going on with their fathers. When Ricardo Martinez (Teddy Cañez), an absent-minded lawyer, picks up his daughter at the house of Alejandro Lopez (Alfredo Narciso), a punctilious bartender, the fathers bicker and trade slights. But while this appears to be a play about the secrets of their daughters, these men have their own as well.

Ms. Coppel, a young playwright with an intriguing comic voice, has built the play quite neatly, and her two-person scenes have the snap of very good sketch work. But as the plot marches forward, the thinness of the writing is exposed. The slangy dialogue is overwritten, with jokes that betray the perspiration of labored wit. Messy, interesting possibilities don’t get the chance to emerge. The stoic Ricardo is the stereotypically repressed white-collar perfectionist completely clueless about other people in his life, while Alejandro devotes his attention to being a father.

The director Jaime Castañeda keeps the pace quick and breezy, and Ms. Zilles and Ms. Romero demonstrate no shortage of verve. But their characters are not distinct enough, and scenes too often seem beholden to the mechanics of farce.

A lot happens in the hour and half, and the play ends with a series of earnest speeches, leaving very little unsaid. Ultimately, this Atlantic Theater Company production is light comedy mixed with dramatic uplift, the kind of work that theater critics once compared to television, back when we could afford to be smug about our cultural position.


Coppel clóset

Hi Readers,

I was raised the son of a writer. My father wrote plays, films and novels. He was successful and suffered constant wanderlust. I was born in America when he was there writing Vertigo for Alfred Hitchcock.

I give that familial insight so that you can understand that I had the genes, I just needed to find my footing and get up the nerve to put pen to paper (or to be more my laptop). Many would say that having a successful parent should make it easier to follow their path under the protective shadow of their parent’s success. Not so!

Writing is difficult. Writing in the hopes that you will be read and your works appreciated is terrifying. In my case, the fear of failure kept my ideas and stories buried in a back closet within my brain.

It is only now as I enter the latter part of my existence that I have been able to calm the fear and share my stories with those who may wish to read them.

I would like to think that it was my choice to write about things that go bump in the night, but it wasn’t. I had no idea that I would one day write tales of horror, but that is now what I do. With each new book, I feel drawn further into the dark void that we feel but rarely see.

I hope you will join me.

🔸️Recorrido COPPEL nueva colección

He fucked me gently and lovingly. Just like Max, but differently. I can not explain.

Now discussing:

Yes, I said in a slightly downcast voice, that is, you want to say that. Olya did not let me finish. She got up and kissed me again.

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