A matter of Pinoy pride

One can nitpick about musical content and choices, dramatic strength and the play’s running time, or the liberties taken in thematic treatment – but at the end of the day, you just have to watch St. Louis Loves Dem Filipinos for the magic it creates.

In the course of one night, it makes a full century disappear, bringing home to us the plight of a group of tribal Filipinos brought to the 1904 World Trade Exhibition held at St. Louis, Missouri. In the just over two hours it takes to present the show, the years blur and we find ourselves truly questioning just how far we’ve come in those hundred years (My verdict? Far, and yet, sadly, not far at all). It’s enough food for thought to make this an experience we, as Filipinos, owe it to our ourselves to put on our menu/diet.

The first time I had heard of the reincarnation of St. Louis Loves Dem Filipinos as a musical, the mere fact that Floy Quintos had written the book and libretto, and Alex Cortez was directing, was enough for me to make a mental note of catching the play during its run at the UP Theater. Of course, the road to omission is littered with the best of intentions, and I never found the time to make the trek to Diliman. Fortunately, for all of us, the AFP Theater is now home to the musical; and tonight and tomorrow, the last playdates, you have the opportunity to watch the most noble of intentions match with the most credible of executions.

St. Louis is something you just have to view as a lesson in Philippine pride. Using a historical footnote as take-off point, it’s admirable how Floy has weaved an inspirational tale about identity, perception and dreams. It’s a dramatic and musical statement about colonization, the residue of the "Amercan dream" that has persisted even after our colonial shackles were shrugged off, and how perceptions of cultural and national identity can remain a tangled mess. When you couple all this with how we now voluntarily leave our shores to seek our fortunes and future as OFWs, you see how poignant the musical can become in portraying us as a lot whose home and roots are more in our minds than in reality. A sobering thought I had throughout the play was that while the context, degree of, and circumstances may have changed, a lot of the sentiment and feelings being evoked remain constant in spite of the 100 years that have flowed by.

The music is straight Broadway musical comedy-inspired. At times, the overture reminded me of Oklahoma or Carousel, and it may be with the hope of eventually having a run in the US that this was done. I would have preferred that more distinctly Filipino music be employed when the tribal characters do their numbers, but I guess some musical continuity was called for, and that would be the musical director’s call.

Stage design was economical but creatively functional. The ship’s hold (when the Filipinos were being transported to the US) turned into the exhibit hall at the World Trade Fair and subsequently, the warehouses and factories on the West Coast where immigrant Filipino labor could be found. Intelligent use of lighting and shadow effectively created the differences as needed and it was interesting to imagine how, with a bigger budget or at the Cultural Center (something Alex hinted at as a soon-to-be possibility), more could be done in this regard.

Casting is pitch perfect. The night I watched had Arnold Reyes playing the Bagobo tribal chieftain Bulan, and Mae Ann Valentin as Momayon, Bulan’s wife. Franco Laurel portrayed Fred, a contemporary Fil-Am, who with grandfather Alfredo (played by Floy himself), are our guides to the action and drama that unfold. Fred’s passion for history and his Filipino heritage kick off the play.

Through Fred’s eyes, we are introduced to the organizers of the Philippine exhibit to the Exposition: Dean C. Worcester, General Clarence Edwards (both staunch imperialists) and the sympathetic Dr. Gustavo Neiderlein, a humanist, who, while questioning the dignity of sending people as "exhibits", has no choice but to ride along with the others. Of special interest are the characters of Paterno and Guerrero, illustrados who vehemently oppose the sending of these "savages" on the grounds that they will only be viewed as circus freaks, and create the impression that all Filipinos still live in trees. Having studied in the UK in the mid-’70s, I can vouch that this impression was true not only in the US but elsewhere. So much for the ‘enlightened’ West. When you hit a certain income class and education level, antediluvian notions still "hold water".

Bontoc chief Antonio provides the comic relief. Having been taught to speak English by missionaries, he is a hilarious counterpoint to the stoic Bulan. Kudos to Raffy Tejada for a witty portrayal of what could have easily been a simple buffoon. But with Raffy, the character of Antonio manages to maintain nobility while evoking laughter.

As I mentioned in the first paragraph, it would be too easy to say that the play goes on for too long, that it needs tighter editing to heighten dramatic impact, that not enough true Philippine-inspired music is on display, that some of the tribal dances are less than authentic or accurate. Even if well-intentioned, such criticism would not detract from what now already stands as a stirring testament to the search for, and definition of, Filipino identity.