PDI Feature: Guelan Luarca, incoming TA Artistic Director

I interviewed someone whose name seems to be everywhere in the theater. This man is a National Artist in the making. The online version here.

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Guelan Luarca: 'Don't reinvent the wheel? Why not?'

The pre-show set of "Desaparesidos."

Miguel Antonio "Guelan" Luarca is the epitome of the multitasking theater artist.

Until two weekends ago, he was acting in Carlo Vergara's "Edgar Allan Hemingway" for Virgin Labfest 14. His adaptation of Lualhati Bautista's "Desaparesidos" (which he also directs) is in rehearsals for a three-week rerun next month, following its 2016 premiere that former Inquirer Theater editor Gibbs Cadiz hailed as that year's best full-length Filipino play. And he's also finishing his translation of Shakespeare's "Coriolanus," slated to debut in February under Tanghalang Pilipino.

Then there's his new job as artistic director (AD) of Tanghalang Ateneo (TA).

"I won't lie: Being AD is a dream," he says, "but I imagined this [happening] 20, 30 years from now, hindi ganitong agad-agad."

Prolific writer

Luarca is 27 years old. A TA alumnus himself, he succeeded Glenn Sevilla Mas, whom he considers one of his three artistic fathers. The other two are Ron Capinding and Mas' predecessor Ricky Abad, who kindled Luarca's involvement with TA by having him help out with the performance text of "Sintang Dalisay," the Sama-Badjao transposition of "Romeo and Juliet."

"I left school for two semesters after third year college because of financial issues," Luarca says. "When I returned, my collaborations with TA continued even though I was no longer formally a member. When Sir Glenn took over [from Abad], he made me part of his 'inner circle' who helped him come up with each season.

In fact, for the first production under Mas, Luarca worked as an actor, playing the rebellious teenage lead in Han Ong's "Middle Finger" with "aching, nervy realism," wrote Inquirer reviewer Cora Llamas.

"Just when I thought I didn't want to act anymore!" says Luarca, who has become one of our most prolific writers. He was introduced to the Greek myths at 5, started reading Shakespeare at 7, and has now adapted into Filipino works ranging from Shakespeare to Euripides, Sarah Ruhl to Samuel Beckett, on top of scoring two Carlos Palanca first prizes for his Labfest entries "Mga Kuneho" and "Bait."

First season

Luarca's inaugural season, titled "Sturm und Drung/Bagyo at Bagabag," also happens to be TA's 40th.

The lineup, apart from the already-announced restaging of Ian Maclennan's "The Squaddies' Shrew" (hewn from Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew"), will include Puerto Rican playwright José Rivera's "Marisol," to be translated by Rody Vera and directed by Ed Lacson Jr.; and Luarca's adaptation of the seminal Mike de Leon film "Batch '81."

"Marisol," about a woman who gets caught up in a surreal, apocalyptic revolution between the angels and a so-called "senile God," will see Teresa Barrozo's return to designing music and sound for TA after 2016's "Boy."

For "Batch '81," Luarca hopes to assemble an artistic team made up of TA alumni. "Sir Glenn opened up TA to the larger theater world, and I want to continue that exchange of artistic practices. But I also want to go back to those old-school TA vibes, to enhance the bond between alumni and current members, in preparation for our TA [40th anniversary] ball."

Social activism

Luarca, who is also faculty member of the Ateneo's Fine Arts Department, is interested to see the young TA actors use their craft as a medium for social critique and activism. "I wish to burrow deep into the psychology of someone who sincerely believes in strongman rule, to the point that he's willing to give up his morals for his 'idol.'"

"As theater practitioners, drama and its processes are our weapons for activism. Theater has to reclaim its role as bangaw ng lipunan--agitating and ever-questioning, ardent in its pursuit to challenge the status quo," he adds.

Think poetically

"TA has to be socially engaged, and I want to expose its audiences to plays that force you to think a certain way, like how [Bertolt] Brecht forces you to suspend emotion for the sake of pure analysis; or how Shakespeare forces you to think poetically all the time; or how Sir Floy [Quintos] suspends your judgment of the excesses of the Filipino upper middle class to show they also have revolutionary potential.

Otherwise, he says, "why stage something that doesn't respond to the big picture?"

"I suppose that's where my youth enters," says Luarca. "I'm not afraid to fail, but also unafraid to come up with weird, challenging stuff. In fact, perhaps I invite it, because at least it means we're doing something new."

"I hate the mentality of 'Why fix what isn't broken?' or 'Don't reinvent the wheel.' Why the hell not?!"

Screen Log 19: Superbad; The History Boys; Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again; Pose Season 1

"Pose."

When that "Post a poster of your favorite movie without explaining" game went around on Twitter, I put SUPERBAD in with some hesitation. Maybe I was wondering if it's just a case of not remembering clearly, the way we tend to filter the less fun parts out of memories, so that what we end up recalling isn't exactly the entire thing, but just a glamorized part of it. I saw "Superbad" again, and nope, definitely a fun movie from start to finish. It's just unabashed bastusan from start to end, with no pretenses whatsoever, and it pulls off its comedy big time. 

It's a different case with my rewatch of THE HISTORY BOYS (which I don't think any company will be staging in Manila any time soon, too damn culturally specific as the play's topic and milieu is). So many layers and nuances I missed out on the previous times I saw this. That "Hodge the Drummer" scene between Samuel Barnett and Richard Griffiths, for instance, is just poignant, just plain effective use of dialogue and understatement and metaphor. Or that whole "History is women following men with buckets" speech by Frances de la Tour, which I never really fully grasped until now, how it sort of encapsulates the whole movie, especially with regards to her character. This is definitely one of the successful stage-to-screen adaptations of our time, one that grows richer with every viewing.

I didn't think the first "Mamma Mia" movie was bad, but then I was still in high school when it was shown in our cinemas, and the first few minutes I was confused, if I remember correctly, as to where exactly the "real" world stopped and the "singing" world began, or if there even was such a boundary. The new movie, MAMMA MIA! HERE WE GO AGAIN, was just the perfect antidote to the recent turn of events in our country. I saw it the other day, after the shit president's state of the nation address and the announcement that the plundering thief of an ex-president is the new speaker of Congress. "Mamma Mia 2" is a load of unbridled joy, its prequel-sequel magic delivered seamlessly, the transitions never jarring, the fun always infectious. It knows it's a silly movie and doesn't pretend to be something more serious. Everyone is terrific--Lily James is my discovery--but the glorified cameos of Cher and Meryl Streep are the best parts, quite appropriately saved for last. If I may be allowed an act of heresy, maybe the movie ought to travel back in time and give some tips on pulling off this prequel-sequel mumbo-jumbo to "The Godfather 2," which never really clicked with me on a more visceral, emotional level.

Just finished Season 1 of POSE, the new Ryan Murphy TV series about the 1980s LGBTQ ballroom scene in New York. Billy Porter and Indya Moore can start campaigning for their Emmys now, and if they don't get nominated next year, I am sure some heads will have to roll. Evan Peters, too, I think, if only for his episode 3 performance. Moore is the best part of the show. Episode after episode, she just oozes raw emotion and commands every scene she's in, not by eating scenery or anything loud, no, but by quietly luring the viewer into her world, perhaps into her soul, even. There's just something so natural, so earthy, so heartbreaking with the way she delivers her lines. The show as a whole can't veer away from its "Glee"-like moments and turn of events, but I'm willing to forgive the show for those moments if it means watching Elektra (most improved actress by the finale!) say "I think we've had enough of feelings" again. And of course her epic read of House Ferocity. Next season, please. 

Screen Log 18: Incredibles 2; Ocean's 8; Hereditary; RuPaul's Drag Race Season 10; Atlanta Season 2

"Atlanta Season 2."

It's hard to believe it's been, like, more than a decade, almost 15 years, since "The Incredibles" was released. That was a great animated movie and a great superhero movie, back when superheroes weren't in vogue yet (I'm looking at you, Marvel). Do I think INCREDIBLES 2 was a good movie? Sure (though I thought the short that opens the film, "Bao," was even better). I do think it faltered when it devolved into a conventional superhero caper, but it shone best when it's turning everyday life on its heels, like the baby having all the powers, for instance, or the father having to stay at home, or Edna Mode (the best character!) agreeing to babysit the baby. Truth be told, I kind of don't remember a lot about it now, which must speak of the film's staying power. "Bao," however, I remember from beginning to end, the storytelling just plain lovely and heartrending.

There's a whole generation out there that's not even aware of the Ocean film franchise. Hence their clueless reaction to the Danny Ocean references, as I witnessed firsthand from my cousin last night, in OCEAN'S 8. I enjoyed this new movie. It has a lot of fun moments, most of them involving Anne Hathaway in one of her best roles so far (and also, she returns to the Met more than a decade after she snatched that trip to Paris from Emily Blunt). In fact, the cast is solid, from Rihanna to Sarah Paulson to James Corden. But the story is very, well, linear. Everything goes smoothly and as expected. They pull off the heist, get their shares, and go their own ways. It's middling writing and direction that just doesn't make the most of its incredible lineup of talent. It's a missed opportunity, is what it is.

I loved HEREDITARY. I loved it so much. That was just fiction at its finest. It's difficult not to compare it to the other great horror film of the year so far, "A Quiet Place," which I also liked, but not as much as this new movie. Imagine if Toni Collette and Emily Blunt both land Oscars and the slew of other accolades that come with it by year's end. Two female actresses in horror flicks. What a concept.

Thoughts on Season 10 of RUPAUL'S DRAG RACE, anyone? One, you could see Aquaria winning the whole thing from the start (I agree, she's one of the top ten runways ever). Two, um, Kameron Michaels, lipsync assassin? Really? Three, that Reunion episode though.

At the risk of sounding redundant and uncreative, Imma go ahead and call the second season of ATLANTA, subtitled "Robbin' Season," perfection. I know I also said this about its pilot season, so let me clarify: Season 2 is even better. Off the charts better. Like one of the few pieces of television (given the very few that I watch, to begin with) that left me immensely satisfied at the end of every episode. Season 2 of "Fargo," with Kirsten Dunst, was one. Seasons 2 and 3 of "The Leftovers" was basically 18 masterpiece episodes. In "Robbin' Season," every episode works like a wonderfully executed short story. I mean, "Teddy Perkins," for instance! Or Brian Tyree Henry's excursion to the woods in, well, "Woods." Or "Barbershop." Or that Drake party. Or the finale. Or Alligator Man. This season here is just TV deliciously, mesmerizingly delivered.  

'The Language of Silence'

After years--and I mean literally years--of submitting and getting rejected, I'm finally published in "Cha: An Asian Literary Journal." All the more special for me because I happen to be in the Philippines-themed issue, guest edited by Ricky de Ungria and Larry Ypil. And also my Silliman co-fellows Jam and Jake are in this issue. So yay, hashtag Germane (our batch name)! Here's the link to the site.

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The Language of Silence

"Children displaced by the fighting in Marawi City play inside the temporary learning space at the central elementary school in Saguiaran, Lanao del Sur."

--Photo by Fernando Sepe Jr. for ABS-CBN News.


Nobody wrote prayers for dead cities,
so the children were quick to learn
the language of silence. Say nothing
when a tank rolls by. Say nothing
to the men in camouflage. Here a boy
perfects his pauses, sings through gestures
bearing little sense. The brevity of goodbye
rolled with the twirling hands of let go.
On cracked pavement, two girls, mirrors
of each other, cake their soles with grime,
begging the ground to keep them
from flying. Too late: Their wings,
luminous as the mosque's golden dome,
spread wide, and soon they are dancing
specks on an iceberg sky. The boy
opens his mouth in imitation
of a bomb's roar, but what he means
is the opposite of run. What he means
eludes utterance. Eyes fixed on the cold
vermilion moon, wishing for the swift
swish of flight, he crouches low
against a dented lamppost. Remain,
even when the nights are never sound,
rain pooling in muddy craters, umbrellas
and slippers collecting in potholes.
Soon the world will dismantle itself,
rid of syntax and syllables, territory
marked by measured sentences,
and there will be no one to build
fires, fetch water, whittle wood to spears.
Soon, the patter of running feet
on cobblestone, before the stillness,
heavy with the land's hushed desires,
and in that stillness, a new city,
smaller than an embryo, its cry
louder than the last monsoon.