Beautiful ugliness

The second time I got the chance to see Virgin Labfest 6 at the CCP was for Set F, three of allegedly the best of Labfest 5: Isang Araw sa Karnabal (Nicolas Pichay), Boy-Gel ang Gelpren ni Mommy (Sheilfa Alojamiento) and Doc Resureccion, Gagamutin ang Bayan (Layeta Bucoy). Three very different approaches in terms of staging and ensemble but similar in evoking emotional perplexities in the audience. Eon and I went home feeling drained of emotions.

Choosing from the spectacles of a roller coaster horror ride, badminton swordplay and generous banters of invectives, I was more personally struck heart and mind by Bucoy's work. Maybe because we've just gotten through the elections ourselves. Most likely also because of the four national elections I've participated, this last one proved to be most difficult in making decisions. I only voted for a president, vice president (on the last minute), and four senators. Except for one senatorial, none of my choices won.

After the stagings, I told Eon that probably the amount of heaviness one would feel after experiencing Bucoy's Doc Resureccion depends on how much one also would "believe" in its reality (real-ness). As an afterthought, the quality of the heaviness one would feel could also depend on which subjectivity one chooses to be most offended by.

Clearly not a narrative which "celebrates" something, I think it's relatively fair to herald the Bucoy opus based on things a viewer would be repulsed by. The story could offend one's values on family-centeredness: What sort of a man could Pogi be (even his family) to forsake life of kin over the bribery of an unseen trapo reelectionist? Or it could offend one's perspective over the personal/parochial nature of a Filipino voter: What sort of a candidate could Doc be to express politico-verbosity such as "genuine" concern for the downtrodden and yet deny and reject his own childhood of misfortune? Or maybe one could also take a "high" human-to-ants point of view and remark how these people don't realize better things coming their way simply because they couldn't see beyond their immediate hungers. ("Oh, you people!")

Add all this to the other plays' narratives - women's rights backdropped by politics of human rights violence, and parenthood backdropped by gender dynamics of male privilege and same-sexual relationships - how's that for emotional perplexity? Courtesy of three one-act plays. I went to bed that night heaving a sigh, "Now THAT was one hell of a roller coaster horror ride."