It’s complicated

A critic’s role is simple; it only requires a good sense of the general, some sardonic witticisms, a few mentioning of details in a work, and voila, a critic’s job is finished. Being a viewer on the other hand places one in a position where he is both a spectator who goes to a play and expects to be entertained, be surprised, and be shocked, and to feel all other emotions connected with the theater; and at the same time as a viewer he will inevitably have this itch that cannot be relieved simply by discussing what he experienced in the theater with people who do not even bother to give a damn. A viewer, as opposed to a critic, does not have a medium to raise his thoughts where they are listened to or where feedback is possible. His thoughts remain unpurged, eternally awaiting for catharsis.

But somehow, these thoughts manage to escape and the humble reader all of a sudden becomes a critic in his own right. And the shock, surprise, and all other emotions brought about after finding out that a critic’s job is not at all that easy dawns on him which will either shutter his dream of becoming a serious critic or challenge him to write a fair critique that the play deserves.

It’s complicated.

This is the same title (with a parenthetical title of The Buhul-buhol Trilogy) of the set of plays in the recent Virgin Labfest held at Huseng Batute Hall of the Cultural Center of the Philippines. It’s complicated because all three of them tackled love (which is in itself already complicated) and all the complications it brings set in complex backdrop, often to a tragic, if not melodramatic, result.

Ang Mamanugangin ni Rez (by Clarrisa Estuar, directed by Paolo O’Hara)

This is one of the most straight-forward plays in the festival. It is so direct that it borders to being dangerously simplistic. Its generous use of humor to cover for its lack of substantial storyline is very apparent as there are sickeningly long exchanges that do not have any bearing at all to the development of the story—merely exchanges that inspire empty laughter in the viewers.

It is difficult to sympathize with the character of Pinay because she lacks any redeeming traits of a protagonist. Instead I felt like pulling her hair for being so blind and “tanga” as to allow herself to fall deeply in love (although unable to actually show it) with a womanizing married man. The other woman, Anne who is a saleslady in the shoes section of the department store is worth mentioning. Her character is able to maintain that sense of calm, of self-control and propriety demolishing any stereotype one has on women of her status.

The tightness of direction by Paolo O’Hara is passable; I gather that this is because of the lack of challenge the play posed as it is linear at best.

The end of the story does not anymore come as a shock. This is a kind of play that gives viewers a feeling that they have seen the same scene a hundred of times already. The insipid characterization, bland storytelling, and vapid humor made this one of the most forgettable presentations this year.

Salise (by J. Dennis Teodosio, directed by Roobak Valle)

The story begins with Dori, a teleserye writer, going to his boy toy’s house, Rocky, to inquire about the whereabouts of the man. He suspects that Rocky and his friend Sadam stole the laptop from his house after they had threesome. There Dori encounters face to face for the first time the family of the man he loves and his live-in partner whom he has gotten pregnant. In the end Dori realizes that he after all does not want to get the laptop back, that all he wants is to talk to Rocky and to have a formal closure to their unconsummated love affair. This lack of proper closure for Dori is something that is alien since all the love stories he wrote for teleseryes ended properly.

The play, to begin with, is very simple, but it intelligently avoids succumbing into the pitfall of oversimplification, fortunately. Although there are recurring, trite treatment of issues involving gay men, the playwright successfully created the right mixture of endearing, pathetic, pitiable, and funny characters that made this presentation worth watching.

The scenes and the direction are as flamboyant as the lead character Doroteo Batingculing (Dori or Duri). The lines are as blunt as the lives of the people described here. They mention things about their job, blowjob, ‘pagpapatira’ with reckless abandon as if these are conversation topic in line of divulging a secret family recipe.

Plays such as Salise are like well-loved books. We know how the story will end, we know the conflicts, we know when it will climax, and we know the resolution, we know even the characters by heart, but still we read and reread them over again because we keep on discovering new truths that we add to our collection of lessons gleaned from the banalities of life.

The play So Sangibo A Ranon Na Piyatay O Satiman A Tadman (by Rogelio Braga, directed by Riki Benedicto) will be reviewed in the next post.