Daily TribuneThe musical makes some intriguing adjustments. It preserves key highlights from the film: moral dilemmas, the nerve-wracking classroom recitations, memorable lines and the essence of lawyering.
Alex Diaz in ‘Bar Boys: A New Musical.’
Photographs courtesy of Barefoot Theater Collaborative
Alex Diaz in ‘Bar Boys: A New Musical.’
PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY OF BAREFOOT THEATER COLLABORATIVE
Sheila Francisco as Justice Hernandez.
‘Bar Boys: A New Musical’ follows Erik, Chris, Torran and Josh on their journey to become lawyers.
Barefoot Theater Collective’s Bar Boys: A New Musical, which launches its rerun, showcases the creativity and talent of Filipino artists. This marks Myke Salomon’s first venture into musical composition, with the book and lyrics crafted by Pat Valera, who created songs from scratch to narrate the time-spanning journey of male friends during their years in law school. The production is loosely adapted from Kip Oebanda’s slightly above-average 2017 indie film of the same title.
Mikko Angeles and Pat Valera direct this ambitious undertaking, which I had the opportunity to see during its final dress rehearsal on 3 October, just before its official opening on 4 October at the PMCS Blackbox Theater. While the musical diverges from Oebanda’s narrative, it retains themes of camaraderie, individual personal and familial challenges, and the rigorous discipline of law school — culminating in the coveted BAR license.
The musical makes some intriguing adjustments. It preserves key highlights from the film: moral dilemmas, the nerve-wracking classroom recitations, memorable lines, and the essence of lawyering.
Under the direction of Angeles and Valera, the core story now emphasizes ideologies, human rights, classism, and national issues. At one point, a professor asks, “Is anyone above the law?” To which one student quips, “The vice president?” This prompts laughter from the politically engaged segment of the audience, particularly those critical of the Duterte administration.
This rerun seems to lean more towards political commentary than simply telling a story about friendship among the boys. It aims to be a topical play, advocating for justice and the pursuit of a political utopia. This approach may resonate with politically inclined audiences but could also be seen as a strategy to earn praise based on shared opinions rather than the quality of the production itself.
The cast demonstrates commendable skill, with Erik (Benedix Ramos) emerging as a fitting, nearly central character, delivering an impassioned performance and heartfelt singing. Alex Diaz as Chris also stands out with a highly-capable portrayal that captures his character’s pain and confusion.
Sheila Francisco as the professor, Nor Domingo as Chris’s archetypal villainous dad, and Topper Fabregas’s emphatic character all contribute to the strong cast. Juliene Mendoza, as Erik’s security guard father, connects well with the audience.
The musical is infused with energy and dynamism. It opens with an exuberant number that sets the tone for a lively experience. In fact, every scene feels like a large production number, with the pacing rarely slowing down, perhaps out of a concern that the audience might lose interest.
The atmosphere is hyper, consistently frenetic, and intensely lively. While the dialogue alternates between Filipino and English, some actors’ enunciation falters, and the music occasionally drowns out the lines, making it challenging to grasp the significance of certain scenes. If you haven’t seen the film, immersing yourself in the story may be a bit of a challenge.
Humor in the show largely relies on personal taste; it’s predominantly gag humor, with its main comedic element being “burnik.” If “burnik” doesn’t make you laugh, then the humor of the musical may not land as effectively.
The large supporting cast, combined with numerous production numbers, can sometimes overshadow the boys’ story. The narrative is broad and touches on the dynamics and personalities of the boys, though it barely breaks free from established archetypes. Nevertheless, the motivations and character arcs remain clear.
The vocal talents of the cast are commendable, particularly Francisco, Diaz, and Ramos. However, the songs tend to fade quickly from memory once you leave the theater, lacking that lasting impact.
With the energetic choreography and the compact stage layout, it’s advisable to sit farther back to fully appreciate the blocking and staging. I was seated in the front row, with minimal legroom, close enough to see the actors’ beads of sweat.
This proximity allowed me to scrutinize the costumes, which seemed random and ill-fitting for some supporting cast members, as if they had been hastily assembled from an Ukay shop — lacking a cohesive motif or color scheme.
The director employs a two-sided audience arrangement, with the stage being a narrow rectangle. Yet, the production numbers appear more suited to a traditional proscenium stage.
Props, set design, and staging are well-utilized, though somewhat restrictive given the dance numbers. The minimal set design is fairly innovative, featuring two small LED screens bolted to opposite sides of the stage. Sitting in the middle of the front row, I had to crane my neck to look up, reminiscent of TV screens in hospital waiting areas.
Culturally relevant, the stories resonated with some audience members, eliciting wild applause and emotional responses, including teary eyes. Bar Boys: A New Musical is indeed populist entertainment that, while it may barely hit the bar, leaves an impression of the collective Filipino spirit and camaraderie.
Runs until 3 November 2024 at the Power Mac Center Spotlight Blackbox Theater.
