‘Liwanag sa Dilim’ is a baffling Rivermaya remix
Of everything that can be said about “Liwanag sa Dilim,” 9 Works Theatrical’s new musical featuring the songs of Rivermaya and Rico Blanco, you certainly can’t call it ordinary. Uncommonly shrouded in secrecy in all of its marketing, the production deviates from any expectations of a standard biographical jukebox musical.
Instead, its fish-out-of-water narrative follows an orphaned young man, Elesi (played by Khalil Ramos, alternating with Anthony Rosaldo), who finds himself in a new environment and assists the local people in their struggles for justice. Moreover, it also serves as a loose adaptation of a very well-known story, all adding up to a bizarre, audacious show, which falls remarkably flat.
Even with its intriguing premise, the musical simply can’t justify its host of misguided choices. Its scattershot use of music, baffling script, and glaring tonal unevenness dilute its few positive qualities and neuter its source material of the fire it should possess.
From the tableaux that open each of its acts, “Liwanag sa Dilim” seems to promise a striking portrait of resistance and injustice. And to the credit of lighting designer Shakira Villa-Symes, the production is punctuated by occasional evocative images, alongside GA Fallarme’s transportive video projections.
But even its flashiest special effects grow old, with the show falling back on the same tired, odd-looking backgrounds, which emphasize how bland the overall production design is. When priests’ robes look more like clowns’ outfits and an object central to the plot is literally a light-up fidget spinner, it becomes difficult to take things seriously.
Daniel Bartolome’s musical direction and Orlando dela Cruz’s arrangements find somber, stately angles in Rivermaya’s hooks, but the score can’t replicate the force of these rock songs, and rarely is the music recontextualized in interesting ways. Urgent anthems like “Isang Bandila,” “Alab ng Puso,” “Posible,” or the title song come off muted, while love songs “Your Universe” and “You’ll Be Safe Here” are interpreted in frustratingly literal fashion.
And while the show does have earnest moments (“Himala” as an emotional ballad; “Balisong” as a villainous threat), the score lacks purpose, throwing songs around for vague reasons—most evident in the haphazardly repeated refrains of “Umaaraw, Umuulan.”
Sincere emotion
In a similar way, there are individual performances here that point toward some sincere emotion: Nicole Omillo keeps herself headstrong as a typically innocent and helpless love interest, and Neomi Gonzales rescues her vulnerable character from pure victimhood. Gonzales and Vien King also provide the musical’s clearest voices, articulating themselves with measured consideration.
However, the actors seem to have wildly different ideas of what the production is—with Boo Gabunada’s antagonist prancing around like a cartoon, and Khalil Ramos’ Elesi coming off far too casual for the situation he’s in, as his singing also buckles by the end.
These incongruous elements could have coalesced into something greater, but director Robbie Guevara simply can’t establish a coherent emotional through-line to “Liwanag sa Dilim,” resulting in sluggish scenes that flatten PJ Rebullida’s choreography and the actors’ chemistry. Without proper momentum, its tonal shifts feel careless every time, going from grating humor and unconvincing romance to generic patriotic speeches, corny sci-fi hijinks, or (in the act one finale) having a character be sexually assaulted in the background for no good reason.
In a particularly egregious moment following an act of violence, a character’s grieving is literally interrupted so that he can sing “Chismis,” complete with jazz hands, to the audience’s dead silence.
Reductive text
So many of “Liwanag sa Dilim’s” issues stem from how its script just has no internal logic and no proper development for its themes. Elesi’s motivations are either entirely shallow or retroactively explained through pointless twists—which are in turn enabled through a certain sci-fi device, whose rules are so loosely defined that they kill any tension that this story should have.
The original text that this show is based on bursts with fury, intelligent social satire, and complex characterization; this musical reduces its characters and plot points to broad strokes, and sacrifices class commentary for irritating jokes revolving around contemporary slang like “slay!” and “sheesh!”
As its own story, the production has little to say about anything in particular, even failing to tie itself back to the real tragedies it references in its first scene. As an adaptation, it neither builds on nor honors its source material. And by the end, as so many of its conflicts remain unresolved, it has the audacity to tease a sequel. Yes, our fight against injustice should always persist, but some stories really just need to know when to stop.
“Liwanag sa Dilim” runs until April 13 at the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium, RCBC Plaza, Makati City.
