‘Goat Blood’ director Alejandro Torres talks queerness, theater and El Chupacabra- by Charles Lewis III, Mission Local

Casey Spiegel (left) as “Owen” and Eric Esquivel-Gutierrez as “Pablo” in the upcoming Theatre Rhinoceros/JT Presents production of Mark-Eugene Garcia’s Goat Blood, June 25-July 19 at 4229 18th St., in San Francisco’s Castro District. Photo: Scott Sidorsky

For San Francisco native Alejandro Torres, directing a queer horror-comedy was a no-brainer.
The sometime-actor-turned-theatre-director counts George Romero’s “Night of the Living Dead” and David Cronenberg’s remake of “The Fly” as monster-flick favorites.

What’s more, the chance to helm a play with a Latine perspective was appealing. The really scary part was having to put on such a niche play in a city that seems to be losing its unique artistic identity.
“I’d be lying to you if I told you that I felt that San Francisco was a city friendly to the arts and was invested in cultivating them,” says Torres.

“With many venues [pricing out artists] in favor of wealthier tenants, I see fewer and fewer viable places for art to be created and shown in my hometown. San Franciscans are a resourceful bunch, but these days, I think that artists are definitely left to fend for themselves, even more than usual.”
Theatre Rhinoceros, the Castro-based company that claims to be “the world’s longest-running continuously producing professional queer theatre,” had worked with Torres before, so he was a natural choice to direct the West Coast premiere of Mark-Eugene Garcia’s “Goat Blood,” which opened June 27. (The play premiered off-off-Broadway in New York in 2024.) 

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The story, set in a farm town, follows Owen (Casey Spiegel) and Pablo (Eric Esquivel-Gutierrez) after a failed double-date with two women.
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As the boys try to figure out where they went wrong, they suddenly become aware of all the mutilated goats in the vicinity. It’s only then that they realize they’ve wandered into the path of the mythical El Chupacabra. Not your typical first date.

Despite what the Internet may tell you, El Chupacabra — the “goat-sucker” of Latine folklore — is a fairly recent invention. [The term appears to have been coined by Silverio Pérez, a Puerto Rican radio personality, in 1995 —Ed.] 

The script is primarily in English, incorporating both Castilian Spanish and Mayan K’iche’. Torres says he appreciated the play’s depiction of an entity that was mythical yet grounded in reality.

“I was especially inspired by this theme of ‘nature biting back’ as a scientific explanation to the sudden loss of livestock attributed to the Chupacabra [as a result of] climate change,”  he says.
“The carnage and aggression found in [real attacks on Central American farms] were explained by the desperation of the predators, such as coyotes, after a good amount of time without food.”
Blood-soaked mythologies aside, the play also takes an irreverent look at the “horrors” of modern dating. Though Torres himself is in a relationship, his single friends tell him grim stories that the show plays for laughs.

Less funny was trying to fit all this rich story material onto Theatre Rhino’s living-room-sized 18th Street stage. Though the company has existed for 50 years, it hasn’t had a proper venue in nearly a decade. The pandemic set it back even further, financially.

“It sure helps having a smaller cast of four in maneuvering a smaller stage,” says Torres, who’d directed in the venue previously.

“I’ve worked on tinier stages before, so rather than allow myself to get frustrated with the lack of space, I considered how I could really highlight the more horrific, the dramatic, and sexier moments of the show with the added fact that the audience would be right up in the action. In other words, how can I use the characteristics of the venue to my advantage?”

.All things considered, Torres considers his production of “Goat Blood” a testament to his hometown’s artistic spirit, and defiance against anti-Latine and -queer bigotry.
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“In telling [our stories] in spite of the potential repercussions, we are refusing complacency, complicity, and are rejecting erasure. We’ve always been here and we’re here to stay.”