A Mexican-born playwright based in Los Angeles, Bernardo Cubría has written Crabs in a Bucket, The Play You Want, and The Hispanic/Latino/Latina/Latinx/Latine Vote. His newest, The People of Pompeii, was commissioned by San Diego’s Old Globe Theatre and will have a developmental production at Will Geer Theatricum Botanicum in L.A.’s Topanga Canyon, Aug. 1-Oct. 4.

What’s The People of Pompeii about?

It’s about community, ultimately, and what makes a home. It’s a very autobiographical play about the fires here in Los Angeles. I live in Topanga, and we were very lucky, because the fires came right up to the edge of our community, but we were ultimately very lucky to escape the damage that people in the Palisades and Altadena did not. As with all the trauma in my life, I process it by writing a play about it.

Tell us about the title.

I read this article about the people in Pompeii, and how the truth is, they probably weren’t surprised by what happened, because usually, before volcanoes erupt, they spew ash for a while—there are all these signs that danger is coming. I think all of us, all over this country, are feeling: Do we get out? Do we stay? Are we the people of Pompeii? Are we ignoring the obvious signs?

Do you think theatregoers want escapism or to be challenged at the theatre?

I think it’s probably a false choice. I think it’s important that we challenge our audience, and it’s up to the artists to write authentically what they want to say. You know, all the plays that challenged me when I was younger are the plays that stayed with me, that I still think about and go back to and reread.

Which plays and authors specifically?

Well, every Beckett play I’ve ever read. Mando Alvarado is my favorite playwright. Mathilde Dratwa is someone that really moves me. Keiko Green. These are people who are challenging notions and asking us to ask the deeper questions.

What’s your first theatrical memory?

My mom took me to see Jesus Christ Superstar at Theatre Under The Stars in Houston. The story goes that I stood up on my chair while Jesus was being crucified and demanded they take him down. Then I got to go backstage and meet the actor playing Jesus, because the cast was so charmed by that.

What music are you listening to?

I’m writing a new play, and a lot of what inspired it was Rosalía’s new album—it’s so operatic and epic. Coming off of writing a dinner party play, I felt my body be like, I gotta go write my craziest clown play ever. The boldness in that Rosalía album is so inspiring to me. It is just a swing for the fences, and that feels like what we need right now, with everything going on in the world.

What’s a recent moment that reminded you why you do this?

Michael John Garcés wrote this play about what’s happening with ICE in this country and he called me and said, “There’s a clown role, and I know you’ve retired from acting…” But for him I’ll do anything. It’s in Pasadena, which is an hour-and-40-minute drive for me, and I get there and we do this reading at a park for the day laborers’ network and their members. We’re outdoors, bugs are flying into our faces, it’s not glamorous—but it’s so purposeful. That’s why Michael John is one of my theatre heroes, because he’s still doing the work. I was so moved that day, I can’t even tell you.

How are you marking the nation’s 250th anniversary?

For me, one of the things that’s nice about living in this country is that we are allowed to protest and speak up, right? So I plan to spend this anniversary standing up for what I believe in. My wife and I and some friends here in Topanga are organizing this father-daughter dance to raise money for L.A. TACO and for immigrant families. We’re so pumped for that.

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? 

The first thing was the Pope. I’m so happy I gave up that dream.