Review | Real Women Have Curves
I saw the matinee of Real Women Have Curves on June 11, 2025, at the James Earl Jones Theatre. This new musical adaptation delivers big-hearted social themes through the lens of a classic Broadway style. It is more than a simple page to stage transfer of Josefina López’s 1990 play and 2002 film. It is a joyful, triumphant, authentic celebration of Latinx women’s resilience and dreams. Critics and audiences alike have noted the show’s disarming blend of humor and poignancy. It may not be the flashiest musical on Broadway, but it is real. One of the realest things Broadway has seen in quite some time, in this writer’s humble opinion.
Story and Themes
Set in the sweltering summer of 1987 in East Los Angeles, Real Women Have Curves follows Ana García, an 18-year-old Mexican American who finds herself torn between her family and her future. Ana, played by Broadway newcomer Tatianna Córdoba, works in her sister’s tiny garment factory alongside a group of undocumented Latina seamstresses, including her formidable mother, Carmen, even as she secretly yearns to leave for college in New York on a scholarship. The show’s coming-of-age narrative is intertwined with heavier threads: the grinding pressures on immigrant families and the ever-present fear of immigration authorities under Reagan-era policies. These stakes feel real on stage. In one breath-holding scene, an immigration raid on the pillow factory next door sends the characters scrambling to hide under their sewing machines, the theatre falling eerily silent for nearly a full minute. Moments like this lay bare the jeopardy these women live with, even as the musical quickly reassures us with warmth and laughter afterward.
Despite dealing with serious issues of documentation, body image, and the American Dream, Real Women Have Curves keeps an ultimately uplifting tone. The book by Lisa Loomer and Nell Benjamin balances light and shade, leavening the struggles of these women with hearty comedy and camaraderie. If the overall plot is relatively straightforward, it is delivered in a satisfyingly sincere way that allows its vivid cast to shine. The show does not linger in darkness. Rather than become a somber treatise, the musical uses its earnest, familiar story to humanize issues and ultimately offer hope. In the end, Ana does get to spread her wings, but she is not soaring solo. Her whole community is lifted up with her.
Music and Lyrics
The score by Latin Grammy winner Joy Huerta and Benjamin Velez pulses with life, infusing Broadway pop melodies with Latin flavor. It is an eclectic mix that sounds variously of Mexico, Broadway and American pop, ranging from ranchera-inspired ballads to salsa-flavored dance breaks. Many songs start simply, often with a strumming guitar, and build to a big Broadway finish, but the variety of musical styles keeps things lively. In fact, the music serves as a vibrant backdrop that lets the characters’ inner voices be heard, each number revealing personal hopes or fears. Ana’s opening solo, “Flying Away,” is a dreamy soft rock ballad that Córdoba delivers with a youthfully bright and silky smooth vocal, hinting at an underlying steel in her resolve. It is an immediate heart-stealer that pulls the audience into Ana’s internal world.
If the ballads bring the emotion, the show’s high points are its playful, character-driven ensemble tunes. The score’s highlights include two comedic showpieces that reviewers found original and fresh: “If I Were a Bird” and “Adios, Andrés.” In “Adios, Andrés,” the women lightheartedly serenade Carmen about the onset of menopause, wryly nicknaming her monthly cycle “Andrés” and bidding it a not-so-sad farewell. It is a funny yet sincere number, light and fizzy, that unites the seamstresses in laughter and sisterhood beyond their daily spools of thread. The song has been landing well with audiences, especially women of a certain age who rarely hear their own bodily experiences belted from a Broadway stage.
Then there is “If I Were a Bird,” a sly, whimsical ode to freedom that becomes a standout moment for the character Itzel. What starts as a simple poetic wish to fly far beyond reach of immigration agents, politicians, or predatory men turns cheekily defiant when Itzel sings, “If I were a bird, I’d chit on that.” Performed with a sweet mischievousness by Aline Mayagoitia, the number soars on her lilting, birdlike vocals even as it delivers a grounded punchline of protest. Mayagoitia sings it beautifully, making Itzel’s daydream of escape both funny and surprisingly moving. Together, these songs exemplify the score’s strength: an ability to toggle between heartfelt and humorous, all while celebrating the characters’ Latina identities through richly blended musical influences. And when the show finally reaches its title song, a catchy empowerment anthem that has the women proudly dancing in their underwear, the music, message, and merriment come together in a genuinely show-stopping moment.
Final Thoughts
Ultimately, Real Women Have Curves earns its place as one of Broadway’s happiest surprises of the season. No, it is not a groundbreaking avant-garde piece. It does not try to be. Instead, it is a warmly conventional musical elevated by an underrepresented point of view and an overabundance of heart. As multiple critics have pointed out, the musical’s strength lies not in plot twists or polish, but in its spirit and its people. The show tells a simple story with musicality, with humor, with authenticity, and above all with an embrace of its female characters as fully rounded, three-dimensional individuals. In doing so, it welcomes the audience into a community we do not often see on Broadway: working-class Latina women with big dreams, big struggles, and big laughs. By the final curtain, you feel like you know and love each of them.
That emotional connection is what makes Real Women Have Curves so satisfying despite any minor flaws. Some may find the story beats predictable or wish the book dug deeper into the darker issues. It is true the musical leans sentimental and ties up its threads more neatly than reality would. But when Ana steps forward in that last scene and sings about making it work and making it hers, it is hard to remain unmoved. The best theater does not just entertain. It moves our hearts and minds. This show manages to do both. It delivers plenty of laughter and catchy tunes. You will be humming and maybe dancing your way out of the theater. And it leaves you with something deeper, a sense of recognition and pride. Real Women Have Curves invites us to laugh at the quirks of family and womanhood, to cry at the weight of injustice, and to cheer for these women as they claim their power. It feels like a warm hug of a musical, one that pulls you into its generous bosom and sends you out uplifted. In a Broadway landscape often dominated by spectacle or cynicism, this earnest little show stands out simply by being real. If you are looking for a night of laughter, tears, and genuine empowerment, Real Women Have Curves delivers the real deal.
Finally, I feel it is a shame that Real Women Have Curves has not received the kind of marketing push that could have helped it find a wider audience. Many people I have spoken to went in with assumptions about the show based solely on the title, thinking it was primarily about body image or self-love, when in truth, that is just one thread in a much, much richer tapestry. The title may have worked better for the original play or film, but for a Broadway musical with this much heart, humor, and cultural depth, a rebranding might have allowed it to reach more of the people who would genuinely connect with it. The current campaign has not captured the scope or energy of the show, and word of mouth has had to do much of the heavy lifting. I can only hope it continues to find its audience, because it truly deserves to be seen.
