More than halfway through 2025, it is quite possible we may have already seen the musical theater performance of the year.
That would be Marvin Ong’s in Side Show, the 1997 Broadway musical now summoned to life by director Toff de Venecia for The Sandbox Collective. This current production marks the musical’s return to Manila since it was last staged professionally in 2018 by Atlantis Theatrical.
Side Show is loosely based on the lives of the Hilton sisters, a pair of conjoined twins who became celebrities during the twilight of vaudeville in America. In the musical, the sisters Daisy and Violet start out as two of the exploited attractions in the titular sideshow, before being “rescued” by talent scout Terry and his musician friend Buddy, and thrust into the limelight as vaudeville stars perpetually hounded by a rabid press.
For most of the musical, Ong spends his time in the sidelines as Jake, the sideshow “cannibal king” who is also loyal friend to the twins, a largely helpless spectator to the maddening unfolding of their lives. Except in two songs.
In Act I, Jake leads the ensemble in singing The Devil You Know, a jazzy, gospel-inflected number that becomes a moment of reckoning for all the sideshow members, as they weigh Terry and Buddy’s offer of stardom to the sisters against the harsh uncertainties that life beyond the sideshow purportedly entails.
Then, in Act II, Jake gets the traditional Broadway ballad You Should Be Loved, his late profession of romantic love to Violet—a doomed declaration that fits grotesquely into the sisters’ by-then already-spiraling personal lives.
In these two numbers, Ong is a vision of superlative theatrical flair. Commanding in every aspect, his is a performance that not only underscores the surface ethos of the show—“come look at the freaks”—but so completely embodies what it means to live from the outside looking in: the freak long consumed by perverted love, a wretched of the earth, to appropriate Frantz Fanon.
As the supposed “cannibal king,” Ong is far from physically imposing, and his low notes may not be as full as the role demands. But this is silly nitpicking: The overall package Ong delivers is just undeniable. When he sings You Should Be Loved to Violet, Ong makes the musical make sense—and literally stops the show—giving reason to the swirling madness, permitting the viewer a sliver of understanding of how it is to be so unloved yet also, deep down, consumed by love.
In fact, one might argue that, without Ong, Sandbox’s Side Show would be a lesser, incomplete creature.
Big swings that don’t always works
Never staid and always interesting, this Side Show—de Venecia’s final directorial work (for now) for the company he cofounded in 2014—is a carnival of myriad, big swings that don’t always work.
Despite its bag of tricks—and it has many!—this production is never able to camouflage the arduous length of the material, made more pronounced by its sung-through nature. While containing some truly gorgeous music, the score by Henry Krieger and Bill Russell (of Dreamgirls fame) also has some brow-raising, pedestrian oddities (“Once in a while we would see a girl/ slowly walking up the hill” is an achievement in using so many words to say virtually nothing).
In some sequences, choreographer JM Cabling is able to capture the organized chaos of a circus from the ensemble; in others, this emphasis on movement can be less clarifying in terms of propelling the narrative. That uneven ensemble also has comedian Jon Santos (as the sideshow boss) standing out fairly often, and distractingly so (Santos seems to be in his own, separate play).
There’s also a stab at political commentary at the beginning, an attempt to frame the musical’s story of exploitation within the context of past and present global violence, that goes nowhere and is easily forgotten once the musical gets rolling—an unnecessary, too on-the-nose touch.
Moreover—no longer a spoiler at this point—the production also deploys the use of live video to depict some scenes, the moving images projected on screens on opposite walls of the theater. Now synonymous to the European directors Ivo van Hove and Jamie Lloyd, the method here conjures some strikingly high-contrast images that evoke an archaic cinematic feel. But, both times I caught this show, it was sabotaged completely by basic technical issues, the live feed sputtering and lagging.
Yet, when this production is good, it is brilliant. It is that rare creature that has somehow succeeded in making the second act—usually a musical’s trickier half—the notably more compelling one.
In particular, The Tunnel of Love, a late Act-II number where the sisters go on the eponymous carnival ride with Terry and Buddy, becomes, in de Venecia’s hands, one of the most thrillingly inventive musical moments of the year. Lit only with handheld flashlights (the lighting design is by Gabo Tolentino), it’s the closest approximation of this production’s constant urge to aim for the brightest creative stars. (With the right combination of performers—the production has two actors alternating in each key part—the number also becomes a lucid portrait of romantic corruption.)
In such instances, this Side Show becomes a cohesive artistic spectacle: the disparate material implements of Mark Dalacat’s set design and Carlos Siongco’s costumes enhancing the musical’s inherent, contradicting impulses of go-for-broke pizzazz, on the one hand, and heartrending interiority, on the other.
The four actresses playing the sisters are terrific in their own right. Krystal Kane and Molly Langley, as Daisy and Violet, respectively, have a more classical musical theater feel to their pairing: enthrallingly sung, with a crystalline sheen that makes the story come across as a tragic fairytale. Meanwhile, Tanya Manalang and Marynor Madamesila’s Daisy and Violet feel earthier, their individual heartbreaks more immediate and soul-crushing.
Reb Atadero stands out simply for his impeccable presence
Among the supporting players, Reb Atadero stands out simply for his impeccable presence and sheer mastery of musical theater grammar as Terry (his rendition of Private Conversation, in which the character grapples with his inner demons, is breathtaking). In Atadero, Tim Pavino’s Buddy finds a grounding, sparring partner; together, their pairing helps illustrate how Side Show is also a story of opportunism and stunted romance.
And then, of course, there is Ong. Once a Gawad Buhay-winning Tobias in Repertory Philippines’ Sweeney Todd in 2009, Ong made a triumphant return to the stage after a prolonged absence, for that company’s I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change last year.
One can only hope that Ong stays for good. In my 17 years of theatergoing in Manila, I can name certain performances that easily qualify as pinnacle moments of local musical theater—Audie Gemora as Albin, tackling the LGBTQ+ anthem I Am What I Am for 9 Works Theatrical’s La Cage aux Folles in 2015; the late Cherie Gil performing Folies Bergère as Liliane La Fleur for Atlantis’ Nine in 2012; Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo’s Diana Goodman in Next to Normal; Poppert Bernadas as Artemio Ricarte in Ang Huling Lagda ni Apolinario Mabini; Joanna Ampil as Francesca in The Bridges of Madison County; Mikkie Bradshaw-Volante’s breakout turn as the titular character in Carrie, to name just six.
Without question, Ong’s performance of You Should Be Loved—and his overall turn as Jake—belongs on that list. It’s a performance that makes you eternally grateful to be able to go to the theater.
