'Next to Normal': Next to Basically Nothing Else

For the past two-and-a-half years, I've been heading off to the theater for as long as time and interest would permit. So far, the variety as far as quality is concerned has been interesting, but I've been lucky enough not to have caught a show that I ended up particularly loathing. Not yet.

The first one I saw was Atlantis Production's Spring Awakening, one of my all-time favorites. As it was officially my first time to experience professional theater, I could not have possibly passed fair judgement upon the production. I do vividly remember Joaquin Valdes' stellar turn as troubled leading-man Melchior Gabor, and Bea Garcia standing out from the rest of the supporting cast as a tragically sweet-voiced Ilse.

Valdes and Kelly Lati (Wendla)

There were the 'okay' productions such as The Wedding Singer (9 Works Theatrical), which showcased a brilliant Gian Magdangal (Robbie) paired to a lackluster Iya Villania (Julia); or this year's Aida (Atlantis), whose titular character (a comebacking Ima Castro in fine form), was overshadowed by Rachel Alejandro's scene-stealing Amneris.

Then, there were the ones that I'd say were 'good' - straddling that imaginary patch between 'soaring' and 'okay' - such as the much-improved third run of Rent (9 Works), its only semblance to its less exciting original run being Carla Guevara-Laforteza's explosive Maureen Johnson.

And then, we have the really good ones - productions that I'd be quick to say can give their Broadway counterparts a run for their money anytime: Little Women (Repertory Philippines), In the Heights (Atlantis), A Little Night Music (also by Atlantis). What do they have in common? First, Tony-worthy performances from their leading players, to borrow from Pippin: Caisa Borromeo as Jo March, Nyoy Volante as Usnavi, and Dawn Zulueta as Desiree Armfeldt. Second, one or two uneven performances that stained an otherwise perfect ensemble - I'm not naming them here.

Left: Zulueta sang a shattering Send in the Clowns.

Right: Borromeo (L) and Cara Barredo as Beth March singing Some Things Are Meant to Be (as of today, one of only four moments in theater that left me teary-eyed).

And finally, we have the ones that are so good, they should win a Tony for Best International Production of a Musical or something. There are two of them. The first one is Avenue Q (Atlantis). I'd say I made it to Manila just in time to catch its fifth and supposedly final run. Directed by Bobby Garcia, this is one production that will remain close to my theatrical heart because it was the first - and for a year - the only time that I exited the theater so impressed, I was at a loss for words. Here, I became a believer of Felix Rivera and Rachel Alejandro. A sixth run should be in order, Bobby.

The second one, I just saw for the third time last night - Atlantis' Next to Normal. I saw it on its opening and closing weekends last March, and now on the opening night of its rerun. In my opinion - and I am fairly certain I am not alone in saying this - this is one musical production that will remain unmatched in its electrifying brilliance for quite some time, if it hasn't already cast a shadow over past productions of a similar calibre.  

Here, my friends, is a cast that knows no bounds and no peers, one that's as fine as anyone's ever seen anywhere. Here is Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo poised to take home the Philippine Daily Inquirer's Best Actress in a Musical award for the year, and Jett Pangan and Garcia giving the toughest competitions to their fellow would-be nominees. Here, also, is Rivera in the creepiest performance of the year for a Broadway musical.

The Goodman trifecta (L-R: Yulo, Garcia, Pangan) in Better Than Before, a musical highlight of the show.

Here is a production with so much pathos, it leaves more than half the theater in tears by the end. Here is a production that has so much soul and so much genuine emotion, you can't help getting swept away by the current and going along for this one hell of a theatrical ride. Here is something one should choose to see if he or she could choose only one from all the shows that have been and will be shown in Manila. Here is Next to Normal, which, in sheer quality, is next to basically nothing else.

So I was doing quite well (compared to the rest of the audience) - until this: I Am the One (Reprise), the most heart-wrenching scene in the musical.

LadyMed 2011: Valentina

I think I owe the world the rest of the cake, tiny slices of which I've been dropping in my previous posts. LadyMed 2011 is two weeks past - September 16 - and yes, things turned out quite well. Okay, that's understating it - we won! And since we're all visual creatures who'd itch to death if this world were devoid of images, I'm turning this into my first photoblog entry or something to that effect. Photo credits: Ephraim Leynes, Theodore Delfin Vesagas, Leonardo Serafin Infante, and Jenn Danielle Gargar. (Click on photos to enlarge.)

The theme for this year: Komiks. Philippine comics, that is - so no Spiderman or Batman or, heaven forbid, oh-so-generic Wonder Woman. We chose Valentina (the Filipino equivalent of Medusa), and our research was quite informative. We discovered that she actually has the power to heal, and that she has a PhD in Reptilian Zoology from the University of New Delhi (that make sense to you?).

First off, here are some shots from the shoot. Dress courtesy of Katrina Beatrize Manas. Headdress by Patricia Cruz. Makeup by Analigaya Agoncillo. Necklace courtesy of Philline Aurea Grace Salvador. Photos by Leonardo Serafin Infante. Venue: Unit of  Salvador, 3 Adriatico Place, Adriatico Street, Ermita, Manila.

And now, we transport ourselves to the night of September 16, 2011. This was the stage at the Philippine General Hospital Science Hall.

Meanwhile, the backstage was - wait, we had no real backstage, just the entire hallway surrounding the Science Hall, and it was a totally different kingdom. From the first year Intarmed students, there was Agua Cristi (just Google her); the second year Intarmeds had Dyesebel the mermaid; the fourth years (2nd year med proper) had Galema (the daughter of Zuma - again, Google); and the fifth years had Zsa Zsa Zaturrnah (of the musical film). And here's the star of the night: Costume and headdress by Dan Concepcion (you are so awesome!!!). Makeup by Analigaya Agoncillo. Prop staff by Patricia Cruz. 

First was the opening number, and we were the first to perform. This was how we did it: Four men enter with a sort of hostage, who turns out to be Darna (Valentina's archenemy). The men begin torturing her while she kneels on the floor, helpless and speechless. Then, Valentina enters and channels Angelica Panganiban in the wedding processional scene in Here Comes the Bride (2010).

Due to the crazy and highly inefficient communication system backstage, we ended up changing costume for the second part of the evening ahead of time. So for the preliminary interview, Valentina was already in her black cloak and bearing a brand new Jafar-inspired staff by Dan Concepcion. Bottom photo shows the five contestants (L-R): Valentina, Zsa Zsa, Agua, Dyesebel, and Galema.

And now, what was probably the most awaited and exciting part of the evening: the talent portion. Trivia: We started rehearsing only a week before the pageant. There are four parts to Valentina's talent portion since we wanted to incorporate a sort of storyline into it. The first segment is to Beyonce's One Plus One - a sort of theatrical number (read: sensually acting out the song). Midway, Darna comes in (her entrance has something to do with the lyrics) and slaps Valentina. Valentina falls and a random guy (to prove that she's sort of a slut/damsel in distress) comes to her rescue. Random guy sees her weird head and drops her. Fade out.

The second segment: Belly dancing + Hiphop. That's a lot of booty shaking. View photos in clockwise manner - the fourth photo is the signature snake-head move for the hiphop dance. 

The third segment: Sensual dancing to Usher's There Goes My Baby. Lesson: It is essential that a LadyMed contestant shows off his/her character's sexuality and sensuality by dancing with a group of men in minimal clothing. That is a personal humorous observation.

The fourth segment: Beyonce's Girls Who Run the World.

A talent portion highlight: The headdress came off in the middle of Who Run the World. First photo shows it already falling off a bit. Second photo shows Valentina grabbing it off her hair and now preparing to... Third photo shows Valentina hurling the headdress to the audience, to everyone's delight. 

... Who are we? What do we brought? We run the world...

The swimsuit competition. It was time to channel Shamcey Supsup - because part of our preparation was studying Shamcey Supsup (yes, Supsup who won 3rd Runner-up in the 2011 Miss Universe pageant because of her ugh answer, but that's another story). Swimsuit by Dan Concepcion.

The evening gown segment, where we again channeled Shamcey. Gown by Dan Concepcion. Oh, and if you're wondering what Valentina's doing in the lower right photo, that's her signature move: the snake tongue. Consistency was a major part of the competition, so we thought it best to pattern Valentina after - what else - a crocodile. Duh, a snake, of course.

The question-and-answer portion came next, and our question was: If you were any organ in the human body, what would you be and why? Our answer (in all Ms. Gay Barangay glory): I would choose the brain, initially, because that's where all the knowledge is. But what is the brain without the heart? What is the brain without the heart to decipher what is truly in this world, which is emotion and soul? Thank you. And the judges and the med proper freshmen went wild.

The night was shorter than expected, and a billion more photos were taken. The end result: Valentina was crowned LadyMed 2011, aside from winning the special awards for Talent, Swimsuit, and 'Pinakaartistahin' (most artistic? artsy? like an artist? a superstar?). And look who one of the judges was: Cai Cortez - the woman who made love with John Lapus in Here Comes the Bride.

So what did we learn here?

1. The UP College of Medicine really takes this LadyMed business quite seriously. Just like an exam, this pageant needs ample preparation and a whole lot of dedication.

2. When you join LadyMed, you realize just how difficult it is to be a woman. And that you do not enjoy eyebrow plucking, or the arduous process of putting on makeup and the equally arduous process of removing it afterwards, or wearing high heels for three hours at a party. 

3. More than shedding off all that fur and hair and wearing a girly swimsuit in public, it's the process itself - the long hours, the late hours - that makes one think twice about representing the class. And that it takes someone with serious balls to tackle a job like this.  

4. You'd win only if you have the best and most supportive friends and classmates rallying behind your back. So to everyone who helped make Valentina come to vibrant life, she sends you her sincerest gratitude.

So, who says med school ain't fun?

Second Time in the 'Heights'

Two weeks ago, I watched the second performance of the Manila premiere of "In the Heights," the Tony Award-winning musical about a Latino community on the verge of change. In my review, 'In the Heights': Soaring and Finding Home, I noted two things: One, that K-La Rivera is still a bud not quite on the verge of blossoming; and two, that this production will no doubt go down as one of the year's finest.

This afternoon, I watched again - the company's fourth to the last performance. Time, it has always been said, makes for growth - and a second serving of "In the Heights" proved just that. Praise must go to the afternoon's best performers: Usnavi, Sonny (Bibo Reyes with the Zach Galifianakis vibes), Abuela, and Daniela (you are hilarious, Tex Ordonez!). And the lighting design is just wild!

But on K-La Rivera, who plays Nina: She really has a very beautiful voice, one that's a perfect fit for the stage. And my, has she grown in a span of two weeks! For a theater newcomer in her very first (leading) role, her transformation was evident in this afternoon's show. I cried during "Everything I Know." Here's to seeing more of you in musical theater, K-La.

The Riveras of Washington Heights: Felix (left, as Benny) and K-La (as Nina).

Drivers and Dancing

Aerial view of Iloilo Airport, taken April 2010. 2500m runway, passenger terminal, six-plane apron, control tower complex.

I don't understand why jeepney drivers have to do the following:

1. Shout at people standing by the road, with the assumption that everyone's a potential passenger.

2. Stop for every single person standing by the road.

3. Stop for a long time in areas with a (potential) crowd.

Because it's plain and simple: If a person is a potential passenger, he/she will personally call the driver's attention - wave an upper extremity and head towards the approaching vehicle. Plain and simple. If people want to get on a jeepney, they'd do it. Unless they're not paying attention, in which case getting hit by a jeepney might just be justifiable.

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I have a classmate who calls everyone pare (buddy). How... annoying. I basically just avoid him. The problem is his chauvinistic language. Go shag a peacock.

 

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Some friends are going gaga over joining frats and sororities. Oh boy...

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Two-and-a-half years ago, I was all for Hairspray the film. Those pre-Sondheim, pre-Spring Awakening days. 

 

The last time I danced like a pro (because I was never a pro) was in high school. We did You Can't Stop the Beat (from the musical Hairspray) for the finale of "Harvest," the culminating activity of the 4th year English and Speech classes. We had group routines, plus all eleven boys from our class had to do partner dances as well. Fun times...

Now I'm dancing like I'm actually a member of some dance varsity. LadyMed's this Friday already, and all I can say is that I'm going to have one hell of an awesome talent number. I've been thrown, tossed, and lifted, and have shaken my hips, contorted my torso, and been on my feet like mad. It's gonna be explosive.

If we lose because some other class actually did better than us on Friday night, then congratulations to them. But if we lose because of the fundraising (whose grading system, to begin with, is totally flawed), then... that calls for a bloodbath. Oh hell yes.

But yes, I'm having a lot of fun. Thank you for the concern and the support.

'In the Heights': Soaring and Finding Home

Photo from Playbill.com

It seems the teleserye, perhaps the most popular form of television in the country, has transported itself to the stage and morphed into a song-and-dance cycle. But in place of the generic, love-crazed tunes that permeate the air waves every ten minutes or so, its theatrical counterpart makes use of a pastiche that’s half rap and half recognizably Latin. And when there’s a giant crowd whose primary role on television is to provide comedic noise and spectatorship, dancing ensues.

The name of this latest innovative serial drama? "In the Heights," the 2008 Tony Award-winning musical currently playing the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium until September 18. For while, at first glance, it may be all Broadway down to the core, the similarities it bears with those evening primetime television soaps aren’t so obscure at all. The deeply speculative Filipino might even venture further and say that a decade ago, as Lin-Manuel Miranda was still working on this brainchild of his, he already envisioned its arrival on Philippine shores (and now it has, as Atlantis Productions’ third offering of the year).

For starters, there’s the plot, which, since the musical opened on the Great White Way three years ago, has been criticized as ‘oversimplified’ and ‘mechanical’, with The New York Times reviewer Charles Isherwood describing it as ‘a series of vignettes that form a… somewhat airbrushed mural of life’. Briefly, one can even state it as such: In three days, a close-knit Latino community in Washington Heights, New York City dream, contend with life, explore love, quarrel, party, and make decisions. Oh, and how dramatic can you get when one of the main plot twists involves someone winning a $96,000 lottery ticket, right?

The characters themselves seem to have been plucked straight out of a box of stereotypes. Usnavi, the bodega owner who is also this show’s narrator, yearns to step foot on the Dominican Republic where his roots are; Vanessa, who works at the salon, dreams to have her own West Village studio despite personal financial constraints; Nina, the first from the community to go to college, comes home to tell her parents that she’s dropped out of school; Benny, who works for Nina’s parents’ taxi business, fights for forbidden love. And the list goes on.

Yet, as evidenced by what we saw last night (Sept. 3) in only this production’s second performance, it seems Director Bobby Garcia has found a means to skirt past ‘oversimplified’ and ‘mechanical’, and bring this musical closer to home simply by turning its ‘deficiencies’ into advantages. For an ‘airbrushed mural’ that "In the Heights" supposedly is, the verdict is quite clear: The material, as caricature as its elements may be, works here in the Philippines when it failed to impress those first-world critics.

And it’s easy to see why: To borrow from the layperson’s words, Filipinos can very well ‘relate’ to this musical. These stories of dreaming and contending with change – they are our stories, or those of the people close to us. The collective gasp from the audience as the lottery plot element unfolded is telling of our familiarity to all that. Safe to say, as long as they remain at the Romulo Auditorium, Usnavi and his neighbors cease to be just two-dimensional sketches; they become our real-life siblings, parents, cousins, classmates, teachers, officemates, household helpers – practically someone we know.

Now for "In the Heights" to succeed as a production? You definitely need someone who can rap the part out of Usnavi, first. Then, a couple of big voices who can exude the chemistry that Benny and Nina should have. Then a cast that can sing really well, dance really well, act like they’re Latinos, and speak like they’re Latinos. And so on. But for those three criteria alone, Garcia and his team got it all right.

Usnavi here is played by Nyoy Volante – and he is perhaps the most believable (if not perfect) choice there is around. He raps the part with flawless diction, but who knew he could flesh the character out of him like some tangible twin? Without a good Usnavi, "In the Heights" would be anything but, and with the natural stature and a peculiar vibrancy in his acting, Volante does a huge job in keeping the show afloat. “Everybody’s got a job, everybody’s got a dream,” Volante raps in the titular opening song, and indeed, he does his job exceptionally well.

And of that pair of star-crossed lovers, an equally satisfying job has as well been done to paint a bittersweet portrait of two people separated by time and an ocean of a country (literally). Felix Rivera (an unquestionably heaven-sent tenor) adds another lead romancer to his resume as Benny – only this time, he also has to dance (and he does, quite well) and do what can only be described as ‘rap-singing’ (as he does in "When You’re Home"). And when he and K-La Rivera (Nina) hop onto that balcony to open Act II, the chemistry between them just oozes to several floors below.

The problem – or the possibility of it – comes only when boy leaves girl to croon on her own. K-La Rivera has a voice that shows lots of potential for theatre with more training, but in her professional stage debut, her lack of theatricality is quite glaring (especially in her Act I solo "Breathe," though radiantly sung). Given enough time, however, this fixable glitch will hopefully be resolved for this promising performer. In total contrast, Bibo Reyes, also in his professional theatre debut, delivers a hilarious breakthrough performance as Usnavi’s sidekick-slash-cousin Sonny.

The rest of the supporting cast are testaments to experience being a necessary mold for a brilliant performer. Ima Castro, fresh from her stellar comeback turn as the title character in "Aida," tackles the triple threat part of Vanessa with as much flame and gusto as can only be seen among those leading ladies. Tex Ordoñez (Daniela), perhaps our biggest personal revelation of the night, is at once austere, delightfully sassy, and explosively funny. Jay Glorioso (a rather subdued Madame Armfeldt in last year’s "A Little Night Music") sings and acts her Abuela Claudia with all vivacity and nuance to what is definitely another career high. And of Nina’s parents, Calvin Millado (Kevin) sings an especially soul-gripping "Inutil," while Jackie Lou Blanco (Camila) makes up for a vocally weak performance with a gem of an acting job.

Together with an ensemble whose main role, it seems, is to suavely dance through every group number in both acts, this cast is as theatrical as anyone can ask for. Add to that Mio Infante’s scenic design (yet again, the man outdoes himself), Jay Aranda’s lighting design (lighting as emotional adjunct in "96,000"), and Cecile Martinez’s choreography ("Blackout" was an electrifying Act I ender) – all three excellently surpassing the otherwise physical limitations of the stage – and we get one of the year’s finest productions to date.

When Benny tells Nina in song that “the streets are a little kinder when you’re home,” he could very well have been alluding to the musical itself. Not that "In the Heights" never once strolled down a warm street on Broadway (though it did close after only a little less than three years, while "Wicked," "Jersey Boys," and "The Lion King" continue to do their thing). But here in the country, where sari-sari stores abound and carnaval del barrios are a yearly thing, this theatrical teleserye is a welcome treat. And when Usnavi ends the show, saying, “I’m home,” it's as well this musical finding home, if only a transient one, for itself.

Nyoy Volante (center) and the cast of In the Heights.

The Creepy Asian

Disclaimer: This is not me.

There was a creepy man last night, and he was checking me out.

We had this video shoot, see, for a little thing called LadyMed. I was in my female form, glory emanating from every square inch of skin. First, we did scenes in one of my classmates’ condo unit. Then, we did it in her condo building’s lobby. There was also some cavorting with the elevator but whatever. After that, we proceeded to shoot outdoors a.k.a. the sidewalk teeming with people.

Every single one of them curious passers-by just had to take second glances at this towering figure in black with somewhat fake long hair. But then, this guy comes along, and he was different from the rest.

He had whitish hair, and from the looks of it, was either Korean or Chinese, or maybe even Japanese. He looked decent enough to not let us consider him a dirty old man (DOM). We thought he was just one of them curious creatures – BUT NO.

What he did was this: He hung around like he was one of us. It was either he was aware that I was a guy dressed up as a woman for a video shoot, or that he thought I was a real lady. Either way's creepy.

So now I address you, creepy old man, directly.

Pervert! And whatever happened to personal space?

Well he did leave us, eventually. Perhaps after I started acting and moving like a guy. Like really huge, unsophisticated movements. Perhaps he realized he was not helping his self-concocted alpha-male image by overtly pining for a guy in drag.

Heels hurt. They really do.

A Letter to Person Responsible for Cancellation of Classes

(Insert smiling photo of Person Responsible for Cancellation of Classes.)

Dear Person Responsible for Cancellation of Classes,

I'd like to say thank you for giving me and my friends more time to study for tomorrow's exam. It really means a lot to know that you're somehow on our side. Now that we have more time to spare, we can just chill right now and study later - so thank you for giving us that precious 'chill' time.

Let me now proceed to hammer you with a baseball bat. You pink-assed mandrill.

I woke up, like many among us, early in the morning today for two purposes: to study (because I felt sleepy last night and had to go to bed early), and to check for updates regarding suspension of classes amidst this freakin' new typhoon. What a relief it was to find out at 6AM that our classes will go on as usual - your words, probably. It got me quite excited, really, knowing that I'd have to wage a full-on street fight with the rain and wind and waters again.

Fast forward to a couple of hours later, and there I was in school, confused by one of your minion's circulating pronouncement saying that classes had been suspended. The pronouncement was supposedly made at 8:30AM.

So, what's with that? What, in the span of two-and-a-half hours, managed to diffuse into your head and made you suddenly shift gears?

Allow me to speculate.

Maybe you made the initial announcement when you'd just left your bed to go to the bathroom to pee. Maybe you had your curtains drawn, and you weren't able to see outside your window, unable to see the tiny amount of rain falling gracefully from the sky. Maybe you thought it was just fog. Maybe you weren't aware that a freakin' typhoon was about to take a dump in this city. Maybe you thought it's just another day (cue Next to Normal music) - another usual day - and that all this weather brouhaha's nothing new to us (well it no longer is actually, but that's not the point). Maybe you thought it'd make us better citizens to brave another freakin' bad weather day.  

I have more of my hypotheses, but what I'm trying to drive at is this: Two-and-a-half freakin' hours! What, you suddenly exited your front door and realized the waters are higher than usual on the pavement? Five of us were already in school at that time, and three of us weren't residents of the urban swamp where the school is.

Just so we all know, it's no longer raining right now. I'm not complaining - about the rain, that is.

But we'd really appreciate it if you're more in tune with the weather. Maybe you should form a weather advisory board, if you still haven't, or chuck the people out of the board and replace them with new ones if you already have. I suggest, for new members, your students themselves.

So, my two conclusions. First, I'm glad that we don't have class. Second, prick!

That's all.   

From Guy Who's Not Happy with Person Responsible for Cancellation of Classes