Play Time Again

Okay, so my theater debut either as a dog or as the lead character has been aborted, because they don’t have a venue for the production. According to them they’re “postponing” the production to a later date. Frankly, I don’t mind it if the play doesn’t push through at all. I’m worried about the material itself; it’s interesting but ultimately difficult to market. And it’s definitely not a crowd-pleaser; it’s a demanding philosophical piece that may leave audiences scratching their heads in the end.

Still, God closes a door only to open another one. A few weeks ago two of my friends passed by the office to tell me they just attended an audition for the play Bayan-Bayanan. They were both excited because the director is not only a close friend of ours, but a damn good director too. He started out as an excellent actor, so he brings this understanding of an actor’s needs into his role as director.

Anyway, last Sunday I sent the director an SMS message: “I heard from X and Y that you held auditions last Monday. Darn, I couldn’t make it that day. Sayang.”

A few minutes later he replied: “I have a lead role for you. If you’re interested, pls. text back ASAP.”

I was taken aback: “Hey are you serious?! I’m embarrassed all of a sudden. But only slightly, hahaha! I’m interested.”

He told me he’ll have a stage manager contact me for the details the next day. Still I couldn’t believe I was part of a play just like that. So I sent another SMS: “Hey, even if I just play an alternate, it’s ok with me. I just hope that in case you’ve already made your cast list, no one gets bumped off because of me or something like that.”

He replied: “You’re the answer that’s been right under my nose all this time. Good thing you texted me.”

Well, I’m glad to be his answered booger all along.

* * * * *

So this afternoon I attended the first reading for the play Bayan-Bayanan by Bienvenido Noriega, Jr. It’s about Filipinos living overseas. When it was written in the 70s the concerns were a little different. But the uprooted-ness of Filipinos abroad and the manner by which they cope still ring true even today, 30-plus years later.

I think for the first time in my life I actually play a character that’s my age. Pol is 38 years old, but sickly because even after several years abroad he still isn’t used to winter in Geneva. And by the third act my character is off the stage, which gives me lots of free time to relax and grab a bite while waiting for the curtain call. Sweet! Hahaha, what petty concerns.

But this play is a lot trickier than at first glance. The acting should be sincere and honest for it to be pulled off successfully. The last time I did this kind of play was back in fourth year college—that was in 1987! Ngyek. It’s going to be exciting and challenging for me to be able to pull off Pol. Luckily I trust my director completely. Plus most of my co-actors are fellow alumni and long-time friends; rehearsals and the bonding sessions after will be such a hoot.

This play represents for me a warm womb in which I can seek personal growth and at the same time withdraw from the pressures of work and the turmoil of society at large. So let the rallies rail. We’ll be safe in our little womb, trying to create magic for around two hours on stage. (Well, we hope the political turmoil won’t reach a point where classes will be suspended; if that happens, this play is fucked.)