

During a guest lecture for a class I was teaching last school year, Sab Gregorio-Jose, newly-minted artistic director for the Sandbox Collective, asked everyone which of the upcoming shows in the first quarter of 2026 was everyone most excited to watch. It was quite a list too. While I was excited to see all of them, Spring Awakening stood out for me for a number of reasons. For starters, I had never seen it before, and knew very little about the show outside of then relative unknowns Jonathan Groff and Lea Michele being in the original Broadway cast, and its basic storyline. That said, I intentionally refrained from knowing more, wanting to go in and seeing it with fresh eyes. By curtain call, I was glad I did, because this was a class act, pun intended, of a show. The high-energy, hard-hitting, yet deeply thoughtful, kind of theater that we need more of on our stages.
From the moment you walk into the lobby of Proscenium’s Blackbox Theater, that thoughtfulness carries through. The photo corners outside offer initial insight into the show’s compelling message. Inside the theater, the low stage has a shriveled up tree trunk hanging from above on one side, and an empty chair in the middle. Ensconced inside a blackbox theater, the air feels heavy and the mood is somber. As you sit, there is a distinct mindset shift, prepping you for the moment the lights go up. This was a show you take in fully present.
Perhaps what sets this Sandbox Collective’s production of Spring Awakening is that they knew the kind of story they wanted to tell. There is a singularity of vision that runs through the entire show, that both Jose and, more so, director Andrei Nikolai Pamintuan made sure crystal clear at every step. There is an intentionality across all the little details, and it is one that is effectively communicated to the rest of the creative team.
Let’s break it down. Wika Nadera’s concrete set is relatively sparse, save for a massive slab that comes down mid-show and becoming a focal point for the musical’s most intense scenes. Bathed in light and shadows by D Cortezano, you could almost feel its immensity and weight. Raven Ong traverses the same narrative in his costume design. The adults are dressed to reflect the stringent and repressive nature of the times, while he hints at the levity of youth through color and pattern for the younger cast. Sitting so close to the stage, you would be hard-pressed to miss how well-tailored those costumes were too.
Spring Awakening’s score follows the same track as more rock-skewed musicals that have become popular over the last decade or so. Duncan Sheik’s music reflected his trademark alt-folk rock leanings, made mildly incendiary by way of Steven Sater’s lyrics. Again, this is a show that is fueled by a cautionary tale from a very dark time. One that, sadly, is painfully relevant today. Under musical director Ejay Yatco’s baton, the music feels like a lush emotionall-charged foundation on which the cast ushers the song into existence. No, these kids did not let any of it go to waste.
So let’s talk about the actors. It look like even they have fully embraced Pamintuan’s vision for Spring Awakening, collectively delivering on an emotionally-charged show. The relatively young cast belies their age with the maturity of their performance, keeping you transfixed even as the themes head down a very dark road. Nacho Tambunting and Sheena Belarmino prove they are both gifted actors, seamlessly shifting between subtlety and intensity as they navigate the innocence and passion of Spring’s two central characters, Melchior and Wendla. These are put on full display at two turning points in their story – an intimate scene (a first for both of them) driven more by curiosity than lust, and a violent one driven by rage. And they carried it well. Truth? It was hard to look away when either one of them, more so both, were on stage. Having seen her last in Sandbox’s Next To Normal last year, Wendla is the perfect next step for Belarmino. While New York-based Tambunting leaves sometime after the show closes, maybe he’ll find his way back to our stages soon.
Yes, we all know that Nic Chien won the lottery in the artistic gene pool, but you know what, he held his own rather well on that stage. Maybe still a little rough around the edges as an actor, but he made Moritz’s fear and angst, especially in that penultimate scene, very real for us. Angia Laurel, daughter of actor and singer Franco Laurel, makes her theater debut in Spring Awakening as Martha, who grapples with abuse. With those vocal and acting chops, it begs the question, what took you so long? Even the musical’s queer storyline – a budding relationship between Hänschen (Singapore-based Filipino actor Angelo Martinez) and Ernst (Elian Dominguez) – had its moment, but maybe it needed a bit of a bigger one?
Now I understand by Jose said that putting together this cast went through quite a number of deliberations. There is a lot of young acting talent here – a seeming microcosm of the next generation of leads, theater actors and creatives. Acting opposite theater giants Audie Gemora (as Adult Man), Menchu Lauchengco-Yulo and Ana Abad Santos (alternating as Adult Woman) must’ve been akin to a masterclass at rehearsal. Hearing nothing but good reviews about Alex Diaz and Omar Uddin, who alternate with Tambunting and Chien as Melchior and Moritz, indicates that Pamintuan has succeeded in harnessing all that talent into this show in its final form.
From lights up to curtain call, the Sandbox Collective’s production of Spring Awakening feels new, stepping outside of its setting, and finding its place in this time. A feat made possible by a company of actors and creatives, led by both Sandbox’s Sab Jose and director Andrei Pamintuan, coming together to bring their vision to life. Especially one whose message needs to be repeated again and again, because it remains to be a pattern us humans still have difficulty in breaking. You can also call that a lightly-veiled attempt at saying, ‘how about a rerun?’
Spring Awakening runs at The Proscenium Blackbox Theater through to Sunday, March 22.