Ang Huling El Bimbo is a jukebox musical that takes its title from the
hit song of the same name by the band Eraserheads, whose songs serve as the
subject of this production. The Full
House Theater Company ran it at Resorts World Manila’s Newport Performing Arts
Theater in 2018 (July 20 to September 1) and 2019 (March 1 to April 6). But for 48 hours earlier this month, ABS-CBN
streamed a filmed performance of it for free on Youtube as part of a
fund-raising drive for those affected by the COVID-19 pandemic. It created much buzz on the Internet, so I
decided to watch it, too.
It’s a coming-of-age story about
friendship, love, and dreams, and how the loss of innocence and the harsh realities
of life can viciously erode them. It
follows Hector, Emman, and AJ, who become an inseparable trio while in university
(implied to be UP) in the 90’s. They
meet a young, cheerful turon vendor and
karinderya helper named Joy, and she
soon becomes a precious member of their circle.
Too poor to afford going to college herself, Joy is satisfied with sharing
the boys’ enthusiasm for their lofty ambitions and cheering for their future
success. Unfortunately, the best friends
go their separate ways after graduation, and become estranged. Many years later, the death of Joy due to
hit-and-run paves the way for an uneasy, charged reunion.
Like many musicals I encountered,
Ang Huling El Bimbo is structured in
this way: the first half is full of buoyancy and humor, while the second half
is more cynical and poignant. Although
there’s also foreshadowing of the tragedy that lies ahead the narrative, Act I is
generally sanguine, nostalgic, and comedic. There were several instances where it had me
in stitches. But before going into
intermission, the story suddenly takes a dark turn, leading to an Act II that
is utterly heartbreaking and gloomy, but ultimately reflective.
Ang Huling El Bimbo is a spectacular stage play. I only wish the camera work and editing
involved in recording it was better. The
filming definitely has noticeable inefficiencies and shortcomings, as it fails
a few times in identifying what part of the stage to focus on and what angle to
use. But that isn’t the fault of the
musical itself.
The performances are splendid across
the board, resulting to several engrossing character arcs and heart-wrenching dramatic
moments. The production design is laudable. The song and dance numbers are outstanding, and
the musical arrangements for them are terrific. The
most memorable and rousing piece is easily “Pare Ko”, which is conducted with
an ROTC twist. It’s so incredibly catchy
and captivating that I watched it on repeat.
As a stage production, Ang Huling El Bimbo is phenomenal.
However, there is one thing about
it that very nearly ruined everything
for me (warning: I will be delving into
some SPOILERS here), and that is, the rape of Joy. Or, rather, what comes after it.
Rape is a terrible, terrible
thing. And if it’s going to be used in a
work of fiction, it must serve the narrative in a genuinely thoughtful, pertinent,
and profound manner. The more graphic it
is, the more vital and insightful its thematic or storytelling relevance should
be. Anything less would be gratuitous,
distasteful, and creatively and morally bankrupt. Two recent examples on top of my head where I
believe the utilization and depiction of rape in the narrative are justified are
The Tale (although, in this case, it’s
because it’s based on the filmmaker’s personal experience) and Goblin Slayer.
Unfortunately, Ang Huling El Bimbo uses rape as a shocking
plot device to engineer the breaking apart of the friends in the story and the
shifting of tone. While it’s undeniably
effective, it’s also lazy and exploitative, as the subsequent development turned out being fundamentally ludicrous.
It all comes down to the
despicable, unrealistic behavior of Hector, Emman, and AJ after Joy was gang raped
by hooligans. Instead of reporting the
crime to the authorities, they just decide to pretend it didn’t happen. Worse, they opt to avoid and abandon Joy! Why?
Guilt? Fear? Shame?
Are they uncomfortable getting tied up with such episode? Do they want to avoid the stigma and hassle
of a criminal investigation? Or – gasp! –
do they now see Joy as dirty, and would want nothing to do with her? In the end, it doesn’t matter. Because no angle makes sense. I like to think that that is not how one normally behaves after his
best friend gets raped before his eyes.
If the point of having them show such response was to expose them of being total scumbags (which is unlikely), it was a pretty cheap way of doing so, as that would still be so out of left field of their characters.
If the point of having them show such response was to expose them of being total scumbags (which is unlikely), it was a pretty cheap way of doing so, as that would still be so out of left field of their characters.
I think it would have been better if it went like this: first, Hector, Emman, and AJ intend
to report the crime, but Joy pleads with them not to. It’s a sad reality that, sometimes, rape
victims feel that they are the ones at fault, and thus, they prefer to cover up
their own rape. Second, the traumatized Joy
now thinks that she’s become dirty, and she starts pushing away her
friends. The boys in turn misinterpret this
as Joy blaming them for what happened to her, and they become overcome with
guilt, which causes them to fall away from each other and be tormented by shame and despair throughout their lives.
But that’s just my opinion.
But that’s just my opinion.
In the end, Ang Huling El Bimbo is a striking and moving work of art. Its handling of the rape and its aftermath could have been done
better, but as a whole, it successfully unpacks a powerful, pensive story from the
lyrics and themes of Eraserheads’ discography.
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