‘Bar Boys: The Musical’ REVIEW: New staging, same emotions
‘Bar Boys: The Musical’ REVIEW: New staging, same emotions
Feature art by Abigail Manaluz
I have never been one for rewatching shows. My personal mantra is that I would rather enjoy a new production than do a repeat and be met with the same experience. This behavior was exacerbated by the pandemic when I set a goal of watching as many new films as I could while the world was put on hold. Seeing my Letterboxd log count grow made me a numbers-obsessed cinephile.
This is why you can assume that any work of art that I grace with a second or third viewing isn’t something I consider as any ordinary piece of media. They hold a special place in my heart, and so special that I would offer those precious hours meant to discover a potential new favorite in exchange for holding space once again for something that previously warmed my heart. And when I heard Bar Boys was getting a rerun, I made sure to revisit it.
Erik, Chris, Torran, and Josh / Courtesy of May Celeste
Based on the 2017 film of the same name, Bar Boys: The Musical is back and in new territory. From its previous two runs at the Power Mac Center Spotlight Blackbox Theater, the musical makes its return at the Hyundai Hall in Areté, an even bigger space for these aspiring lawyers.
Personally, I am a fan of shows with smaller productions as they get to highlight the story and characters more, and the experience just becomes more intimate as an audience. There are times when a show moves to a bigger venue, and it just loses that connection. This is not the case for Bar Boys, as everything is elevated to greater heights, where you get to see the ensemble and the main cast shine in well-choreographed scenes and showstopping numbers.
It’s a treat to see the four leads back again. I remember seeing Benedix Ramos perform for the first time, and I immediately became a fan because of how gracefully he hit all of the notes. I remember being excited to see Alex Diaz as I was more familiar with him acting onscreen—I remember how natural his acting was. I remember laughing along with Omar Uddin’s Josh and being captivated by his laidback charm. I remember seeing myself in Jerom Canlas’ Torran and crying to Ipaglalaban Kita, a coming-out scene that, to this day, remains unmatched for me in any musical.
I felt all of these emotions and more once I saw them back again, like finally catching up with your old friends after a long time. What hit me harder is that the last time I saw the show, I was a senior in college. Now, I’m a freshman in a medical school, and their struggles in a post-graduate program suddenly feel all so real to me.
The endless readings and caffeine-boosted nights, the fear of being called for recitation (even if you know the answer, but worse if you don’t), choosing between one’s family and career—I would never know the same experiences of these erudite law school enrollees, but I think I have an inkling. Every student can relate to these exhausting pushes to chase one’s dream, which makes Bar Boys an easy vouch.
Jerom Canlas as Torran and Benedix Ramos as Erik / Courtesy of May Celeste
Aside from celebrating the anniversary of its last run, the timing of this is perfect as the film is set to premiere its sequel (Bar Boys: After School) in the upcoming Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) this December. But what’s even more pertinent about this rerun is its timing against the widespread issues of corruption and political injustice in the country.
What I liked the most about Bar Boys: The Musical is how it turned the film into something bigger: a statement, a battle cry of the people who only want what’s best for their country, but are slapped by the awful reality that the people in power don’t share the same sentiments. The song, May Singil Ang Pangarap, also applies to them, as their selfish aspirations have led to their conscience being consumed by greed.
The song, or even the theme of the show, can be summed up in one word: sacrifice. But I think it’s unfair because achieving your dreams shouldn’t have to be riddled with systemic challenges that we don’t have any control over. One thing I learned from our Rizal class is that change only happens when you do it like a bibingka, as you cook it from both the top and bottom.
Studying law suddenly becomes insignificant when you see how people in the field can turn to the dark side and how easily the law can be bent to one’s favor. Studying medicine feels hopeless in a country where public health is not considered a priority. So what do we do? We fight back. Our perseverance can take us far, but we should also demand accountability, transparency, and good governance.
SINEGANG.ph is an official media partner of Bar Boys: The Musical, which runs from October 24 to November 30 at the Hyundai Hall, Areté.
