The trio featuring Danny Javier, Jim Paredes and Boboy Garrovillo have been asked by various groups over the years to have their songs featured in a musical, but it was only until 9Works made an offer earlier this year that the three members of the APO Hiking Society finally said yes.
By Alex Y. Vergara
Photography by Leo Castillo
If you limit audiences, especially today’s much-maligned and often misunderstood Millennials, to just one takeaway after watching Eto Na! Musikal nAPO!, not a few would mostly likely go home thinking that young Filipinos living in the mid-’70s didn’t need the Internet, smartphones and social media to stay connected, learn, live, love and have fun.
Written and directed by Robbie Guevara, Eto Na is 9Works Theatrical’s much-awaited musical inspired by the music and lyrics of the APO Hiking Society. The trio featuring Danny Javier, Jim Paredes and Boboy Garrovillo have been asked by various groups over the years to have their songs used in a musical, but it was only until 9Works made an offer earlier this year that the three finally said yes.
With 26 carefully selected songs of the APO Hiking Society—from Blue Jeans to Batang-Bata Ka Pa, Ewan to Pumapatak na Naman ang Ulan, Di na Natuto to Mahirap Magmahal ng Syota ng Iba, Kaibigan to Nakapagtataka—woven into the story and reinterpreted by pop music and theater stalwarts such as Mark Bautista, Alfritz Blanche, Raul Victor Montesa and Sab Jose, among others, the production’s rich repertoire alone is already worth the admission price! (All the songs with the exeption of Ewan, which was written by musician Louie Ocampo and lyricist Rowena Arrieta, are all APO originals.)
And despite the absence of Facebook and Instagram, people back then, as depicted by the musical, were surprisingly fully aware of what’s happening, thanks to their sheer resourcefulness. When mass media outlets were controlled by the dictator, they relied mostly on their wits, word of mouth, mimeographed and Xerox journalism and, much later, an emboldened “mosquito press,” as Ferdinand Marcos so derisively put it, referring to the growing clout of alternative newspapers to deliver news and shape opinion, to know the real state of the nation. In keeping with the time frame, the period musical also became an occasion for its writers to resurrect now-extinct words that were once so commonly used in the ’70s–walastik (wow!), walandyo (a variation of walastik), repapips (pare or friend), olats (talo), dehins (no) and bomalabs (malabo or unclear).
(On a personal note, I remember texting the word bomalabs once to a Millennial to describe the iffy situation we found ourselves in. Instead of agreeing with me, the Millennial texted back: “What do you mean by bomalabs?” Oops, I forgot who I was talking to. Sorry!)
Of course, there’s more to Eto Na than just a trip down memory lane, including how people once dealt with one’s party line, used the now missing red public phone (trenta sentimos ikaw’y makakaltasan), considered riding an air-conditioned public utility vehicle like the Lovebus a novelty and breezed through a free-flowing EDSA from end to end in 30 to 45 minutes flat even during rush hour. Depending on how old you are, you’re either left wondering how things used to be back then, or smiling, as you reminisce about life during the good old days.
Of course, the good old days are also a matter of debate. The Pasig River, for instance, although much dirtier now, has always been polluted since the beginning of the second half of the 20th century.
There was also certainly nothing good, even benign should you or a member of your family fall victim to Marcos’ martial law apparatus. If we had the desaparecidos then, we have the alleged victims of extra-judicial killings now. Indeed, whether you’re a Millennial or a so-called “Feelennial,” you’d probably reach the same conclusion after watching this musical: the more things change, the more they stay the same in this country.
But martial law and the ill effects it created had to be tackled—from something as funny as the characters’ extreme paranoia and self-censorship even in small groups whenever Marcos’ name and his supposed misdeeds are mentioned, to something as serious as the death of a beloved character in the hands of the dreaded Metrocom in the musical’s act two. Otherwise, it would have been disingenuous, even remiss on Guevara’s part not to, more so since the story is set during the height of Marcos’ so-called “New Society.”
After all, members of the APO Hiking Society themselves, particularly Paredes, who came of age during the early ’70s, have always been quite vocal against all forms of tyranny even until now. Guevara himself, although much younger than Paredes et al, admitted during a press conference sometime in June to drum up interest in the musical that he was a martial law baby and that certain members of his family suffered during that long, dark period in the country’s history.
To his credit, he didn’t let his anti-martial law bias get the better of him and his production. Instead, he opted for the slow burn, showing slices of carefree campus life involving a big group of young people who decide to join a songwriting contest before eventually going their separate ways until only three people are left. Autobiographical? Paredes, during the same press con, said no.
Guevara and, by extension, his collaborators, which include co-writer Jonjon Martin, musicians Daniel Bartolome and Orly dela Cruz, choreographer PJ Rebullida, set designer Joey Mendoza, lighting designer Shakira Villa Symes and costume designer Eric Pineda, among others, apart from doing the unenviable task of choosing and weaving the right APO Hiking Society songs to come up with a cohesive and believable story, also had to give each major member of the cast his or her moment without turning the entire production into a variety show with featured spot numbers.
As far as performances go, Mark as Rick, bar none, is the production’s voice. But he was surprisingly upstaged by the larger-than-life antics of Alfritz as Sonny and his on-cue delivery (“Frigidaire, di ba malamig doon?”) and the scene-stealing Jobim Javier. As the pabling (playboy), devil-may-care Butch, Jobim, son of Danny and a newbie on stage with no prior acting experience, was a natural as he chased after Sab, as the beautiful but naive Michelle. The pair’s chemistry sizzled on stage.
There were also other noteworthy turns made by Raul (Mon/teacher/janitor/judge), Naomi Gonzales (Carmen/teacher/judge), Jon Philippe Go (Ray), Rita Daniela (Anna), Marika Sasaki (Jane), Jon Abella (Donnie), Vyen Villanueva (Bobby) and Jef Flores (Jaime).
Jef’s fish-out-of-water Amboy shtick, something that’s been done to death since the beginning of time, never fails, especially if essayed with perfect timing by a performer as pleasing to the eyes and ears as him.
Indeed, much has changed since our WiFi- and Grab-free days. What hasn’t changed are love, friendship, oppression and the universality and classic appeal of the APO Hiking Society’s music, its hummable melodies and effective hooks as well as its simple, smile-inducing and often heart-tugging lyrics. And if one of the most effective gauges of a successful feel-good musical is its ability to leave you smiling or even humming and singing one or two lines of a featured song as you exit the theatre, then Eto Na! Musikal nAPO! more than passes this classic test with flying colors.
Eto Na! Musikal nAPO! is brought to you by Globe Live and will run on all Fridays (8 p.m.), Saturdays and Sundays (3 p.m. and 8 p.m.) until August 26 at Bonifacio Global City’s Maybank Performance Arts Theatre. For ticket inquiries, call Ticketworld at 891-9999 or click on https://glbe.co/musikalnapo .
