The modern workforce has changed immensely in the last decade. Back in 2007, when the film Endo, starring Ejay Falcon and Ina Feleo, was released, short-term contractual work typically referred to sales attendants, cashiers, messengers and the like. Fast forward to 2026 and that definition has shifted. In the Peta Plus and Ticket2Me production of Endo, with stage adaptation by Liza Magtoto and direction by Melvin Lee, these jobs now include Grab drivers, BPO workers and live sellers. Call it a tribute to the daily hustle of life in the gig economy.
At the center of this iteration are three central characters: aspiring nurse, BPO worker and live seller Tanya, played by Jasmine Curtis-Smith; delivery app rider, handyman and messenger Leo, portrayed by Royce Cabrera; and aspiring influencer and vlogger Iana Bernardez as Candy.
Somewhere between them — and Endo’s myriad characters — is a story about love, resilience, determination, hope, and, yes, even hopelessness. The play attempts to explore what it takes to survive in a world where its characters face harsh realities for breakfast, yet still trust that better days lie ahead.
Main character energy
As a whole, Endo would have been a strong acting piece, with all the ingredients for a deeply human story. Curtis-Smith shows a natural affinity with the stage, playing Tanya as charming and determined — a woman who refuses to let a complicated life fully erase her idealism. You want to root for her.
On the other hand, Cabrera plays Leo as someone hanging on to life by sheer force of will, but little else is revealed beyond that. While he shares some chemistry with Curtis-Smith’s Tanya, his performance remains largely one-note. Even the beautifully choreographed intimate scenes feel underdeveloped. Hopefully, it was just opening weekend jitters.
The show’s ensemble deserves credit — they include Teetin Villanueva, Raflesia Bravo, Noelle Polack, Nikki Soriano, Ekis Gimenez, among others. They put the “physical” in physical theater, with choreography by Christine Crame, playing various characters who cross paths with Tanya and Leo in their daily lives. They take on roles as friends, siblings, officemates and sales attendants while navigating the wobbly stage (more on that later) from scene to scene. Bernardez as Leo’s ex Candy, and Raphne Catorce as Leo’s friend, serve as strong counterpoints, balancing the drama and adding gravitas to the production.
That said, the choppy storytelling — where each scene feels more episodic than fluid — works against the production. Characters jump from one setting to another like a cut-to-cut film edit. It is difficult to tell whether this was an intentional choice, given the film source material, but it makes the play somewhat jarring to watch.
The alternate cast features Rissey Reyes-Robinson as Tanya, Esteban Mara as Leo and Kate Alejandrino as Candy.
Typical Pinoy tropes
From a broader perspective, Endo is a valiant effort to depict life beyond delivery and service apps — to show what happens beyond “Kuya, paiwan na lang po,” after we give a one-star rating, or when a contract ends with no alternatives in sight. By juxtaposing the story in the digital age, it suggests that while times have changed, they have also remained the same. Transient or “endo” workers still face the same challenges and meager pay as they did back in 2007.
Where Endo falters is in trying to tell too many stories at once, resulting in some of its more essential elements being glossed over. Instead, it leans on familiar Pinoy tropes — being the sole breadwinner caring for a sick parent, being fired over a minor infraction, or moving up through additional “extra work,” among others. As romance sits at its core, it also includes the familiar dilemma of choosing love over pursuing a dream. Much of this could have been trimmed or given less stage time in the adaptation.
Yes, these are real-life situations, but the approach feels more surface-level than a meaningful window into these characters’ lives. Some plot points also border on repetition, leaving one to think, we get it — let’s move on.
In this world, there is a stage
One more thing: the stage and set deserve attention. The proscenium is adorned with hanging ropes, from which Leo is lifted at curtain rise as he is buoyed upward by the ensemble. The stage itself is divided into two parts — a solid frame and a central platform that wobbles side to side as the cast moves across it.
It is a visual representation of the instability of life for transient workers and the precarious situations they endure just to make a living, only to face the abrupt end of a five-month contract. As Tanya, Leo, Candy and the ensemble walk, jump and run across it, the frenetic energy that defines their lives becomes palpable. The stage moves right along with them.
As a narrative device, it works in pushing the story forward. The wobbly platform evokes uncertainty and fear, while the hanging ropes seem to whisper, “Kapit lang.” The symbolism is clear and heavy-handed—it emphasizes that life for this social class is defined by daily struggle and survival.
It is a clever choice by production designer D. Cortezano, although it takes a while to fully register. When the cast runs across the stage, one instinctively hopes they do not trip or fall at the edges. That is perhaps too much precariousness contained in one production, especially for the performers. The ropes could also have served a more integrated purpose in tying the narrative together—pun intended.
Endo, co-produced by PETA Plus and Ticket2Me, runs until 10 May at the PETA Theater Center, with evening shows from Friday to Sunday at 8 p.m. and weekend matinees at 3 p.m.