By Brontë H. Lacsamana, Reporter
Theater Review
Bangaw
Presented by the FEU Theater Guild
IN 1954, William Golding’s Lord of the Flies offered a terrifying look into the innate power-hungry psyche of humanity. It’s a novel that reflected the colonial and warmongering culture prevalent in Western society at the time, presented through a fictional tale of British schoolboys stranded on an island.
Initially, Gold Villar-Lim adapted the novel into a musical called Bangaw for the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) to use in high-school-level workshops. This year, an expanded version of her book and lyrics is being presented by the campus theater group FEU Theater Guild, led by director Dudz Teraña. In this production, Bangaw immerses the viewers in its harrowing setting.
The experience of Bangaw is set apart by the details. As soon as you enter the FEU Center for the Arts Studio’s makeshift blackbox-style theater, the ushers, dressed as flight attendants, and the entire stage floor coated in sand and bordered by strips of bamboo (akin to the bars of a cage) immediately place you on the island as well. The ensemble of around 20 people in tattered school uniforms is already standing in the middle, holding flashlights and scanning the crowd that gradually fills up the theater around them.
Thanks to Kane Stephanie Hombre and Valerie Tolete’s textured set, Margarita Barrameda’s appropriately ragged costumes, and Nash Dansent Desoyo’s dramatic lighting design utilizing the intensity of shadows, the horrific story comes to life. The cast, though they are still university students, hold their own and do justice to the challenging aspects of the musical.
Played by Sam Siasoyco, the lead character Raf (Ralph in the book) delivers the conyo sensibilities of a student from an exclusive school. He embodies the reliable leader who is eventually overwhelmed by the rules of the jungle (or lack thereof) very well, with the notes of grief in his performance being his strength. Meanwhile, Aldin Covarrubias as Jack, the violent bully who later becomes the most savage of all the youths, turns in a striking and chilling performance.
Another scene stealer is Jharelle Villalobos as Tabeks (Piggy in the book), whose character is tweaked to be gay, with moments of both comic relief and tragedy endearing him to the audience. There’s also Julia Nicole Ramas’ intelligent yet hauntingly frightened Simone, and Francine Galvez’s heartbreaking Tiny, characters adapted into women for the play and effectively expanding the world of Bangaw from the source material.
Each and every actor in the entire ensemble should be commended for what they’ve accomplished, especially given that they’re all still students. They chant and rap with extreme energy, controlling Vince Lim’s rhythmic music with some decently executed melodies here and there amid the mind-numbing chaos. They trudge on even as the sand pit muffles their voices and the yelled ad libs render some lines unintelligible — but their shining moments happen with Joseph Torres’ choreography.
Whether they crawl through the sand, flail and leap around desperately, or lock their limbs to mimic thick foliage and mountainous terrain, they are able to sustain a cohesive energy all throughout, in the bright light or in the cover of darkness. The use of their bodies in itself makes this show a sight to behold.
The downside is that because there’s such intense energy from beginning to end, there’s also a fatigue that occurs, with few moments to breathe and take it all in. Still, Teraña and Villar-Lim do a great job transforming this old story into a relevant cautionary tale for today, in a time of geopolitical conflict. It challenges the viewers to confront the ferocity of injustice and violence through young teens who imitate what they see in the dystopic world around them.
With the original novel’s singular picture of a privileged class being watered down to include both boys and girls from different socioeconomic backgrounds, Bangaw is more about the barbarism that bleeds through to the younger generation rather than a sharp commentary of the ills in learned social behaviors. For a Philippine adaptation, the cruelty of senseless authoritarian leadership and the blind faith in what the kids would call an aswang rings true, though the lack of detail of each character’s place in this vaguely sketched out allegory makes the final result not as incisive as it should be.
Given the sheer energy it takes to perform this musical, it makes sense that not everything could be fleshed out. Bangaw is not meant to be a faithful adaptation of the novel, but a vivid impression of the experience it conveys, adapted to a Philippine context. The characters and the story include engaging details, from the use of slang to the updated pop culture references, littered throughout the series of tragic scenes that don’t quite build up to a gut punch of a conclusion (though it does leave one silent and contemplative).
Bangaw captures the worst emotions that can consume humans at their most vulnerable, be it anger or fear or sheer hopelessness, and with its ensemble’s unforgettable energy, it reminds us to be wary of where the world may be headed. It’s a decent showcase of what student theater has to offer.
Bangaw has shows until April 24, with ticket prices ranging from P100 to P700. For more details, visit FEU Theater Guild’s social media pages.
