Evocative performances graced the halls of the Power Mac Center Spotlight Blackbox Theater on January 16 for the special preview of the acclaimed theatrical adaptation of Jun Lana’s About Us But Not About Us. The production featured Romnick Sarmenta and Elijah Canlas reprising their roles from the original film as literature professor Eric and his former student, Lancelot. Throughout their meeting, both men reflected on their history with Eric’s husband, Marcus (Epy Quizon), another former literature professor of Lancelot, uncovering events leading up to his recent suicide. What began as a casual catch-up over lunch unraveled into a soul-bearing conversation, forcing them to reckon with the trauma and regret they had been avoiding. Through the introspective conversation, secrets are unveiled, compelling the audience to confront their own morality.
A whisper of the past
The play’s first act established Eric and Lancelot’s questionable mentor-mentee relationship. As both reflected on rumors surrounding their bond, Lancelot questioned whether his presence in their lives contributed to Marcus’ death.
Throughout Act 1, the audience bore witness to the slow fractures of an already fragile relationship. Flashbacks revealed the tumultuous chain of events that transpired between the characters and the emotional weight plaguing them. Each analepsis was interspersed with ominous ringing, effectively rendering a sense of impending dread. This culminated in a display of raw vulnerability, which left viewers feeling every irreconcilable emotion between the remnants of their broken connections.
Not only did Marcus’ ghost haunt Eric, but so did Lancelot’s past. Canlas’ Lancelot was a horrifically visceral portrayal of how unhealed scars rip open, inviting theatergoers to empathize with a more humanized version of the character. Eric and Lancelot’s attachment surfaced as more than that of a regular mentor-mentee, but as a kind hand extended to agony. More than a confidant, Eric was Lancelot’s source of solace away from the chaos of his life at home. The recollection of Lancelot’s previous experiences provided a new vantage point on the situation between the three characters, depicting the delicate borders of each relationship.
As each relationship burst at the seams, Act 1 concluded in an explosive argument between the two characters. The lights flickered; only two spotlights remained, emphasizing the increasingly intimate progression of the narrative. Behind them, scenes from Lancelot’s past were flashed on a screen. Just as their anger reached its crescendo, the theater went dark, and the audience was left to sit in discomforted silence before breaking into thunderous applause.
Realities laid bare
The curtains opened once more to reveal a lone Eric. As the center stage began revolving, he walked against the rotation as if on a fault line, representing his inner turmoil. Finally, as the crushing music subsided and the lights flickered back to normal, the conversation simmered back down.
Ultimately, the truth died with no one escaping the clutches of death. History clawed its way to the surface as Act 2 explored the thoughts uttered and suppressed days before Marcus passed. Perspectives shifted from their conversation to an exploration of Marcus’s character, during which his psyche was further deconstructed.
Quizon’s terrifying screams and uncontrollable tremors cemented his depiction of Marcus as a tortured writer slowly consumed by guilt and jealousy. His performance left patrons in a tear-streaked pool of fear and sympathy. While Canlas reimagined the Lancelot we knew in Act 1, Eric’s presence dimmed and slowly grew more foreboding.
Overall, the second act revealed conflicting recollections of Marcus’ death, leaving the audience unsure of how to process everything all at once. Compounded by the heavy music, piercing silences, and erratic lighting, the theatrical atmosphere further pummeled the viewers’ emotional wreckage.
As Eric and Lancelot left the restaurant, it was up to speculation how their pain would be reconciled. While the conversation came to a close, the bleeding silence evoked wounds still open. The unresolved outcome was a painfully realistic ending that linked back to the duplicitous truths of each character, abandoning the audience in suspended tension. Not only were we left to grapple with the emotional residue of the story, but we were also compelled to turn the lens inward, reflecting on our own complexities.
Reangling cinematic roots
The ensemble took center stage once more, not as their characters, but as the actors who brought them to life for a special Q&A with their directors. Viewers were excited to know what persuaded Jun Luna and Tuxqs Rutaguio to produce the play adaptation.
Although the theatrical adaptation was not initially planned, the shift in production from the big screen allowed for new perspectives and characters to deepen the original plot. The addition of Marcus as an actual character in the play, as opposed to a name spoken quietly in the film, provided a new lens to view the narrative. The flashbacks were also incorporated to further develop each character’s backstory.
Sarmenta and Canlas explained how they reimagined their characters beyond their original personas, offering audiences something to anticipate. To Sarmenta, the theatrical version of Eric boasted a backstory that peeled layers unseen in the film. Canlas added that the process of rehearsing encouraged a more experimental approach to the dimensions of his character.
All in all, the play was a beautifully constructed tribute to the original 2022 film, capturing the deep-seated pains of each character. The twisting intricacies of the narrative all weaved one question for the audience: whether anything was truly “about them” or not.
