'Bar Boys': An original triumph
I write this review of Barefoot Theatre Collaborative’s Bar Boys: A New Musical in between my Labor Relations and Tax 2 classes. Tomorrow night, I might be able to hop on a quick Zoom call with my friend group from my undergraduate degree for the first time in months, because it’s the only time I have when I can get away from my readings. On Sunday, I’ll wonder when I can fit sleep into my schedule before realizing I probably don’t have time for that and study for Monday’s classes instead.
This is the price of dreaming—the literal English translation of the first song from the company’s first original musical. With book and lyrics by Pat Valera, and original music by musical director Myke Salomon, Bar Boys: A New Musical is an ambitious take on the beloved film of the same name directed by Kip Oebanda, which premiered at the 2017 Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino.
The show tells the story of friends Erik, Torran, Chris, and Josh as they embark on what might be the most challenging four years of their lives.
Law school is no easy feat (I didn’t need the musical to tell me that when I was cramming for classes just hours before), but under the direction of Valera and Mikko Angeles, Bar Boys brings life and color to my source of trauma—er, the boys’ day to day, with beautiful numbers skillfully choreographed by Jomelle Era and done justice by its talented cast.
I’ll admit I was a bit skeptical when I learned that they were planning to make “Bar Boys” a musical, but any doubts I had were dispelled from the very beginning. May Singil ang Pangarap sets the tone and makes for an impactful overture across the show, and all of the succeeding numbers are equally impressive. You wouldn’t guess that it’s Salomon’s debut of his original music with how the soundtrack seamlessly ties into the story and leaves an impact on the show’s audience.
Like the movie it’s based on, Bar Boys is all too relatable for lawyers and law students alike. The nausea that comes with your first recitation, the copious (and sometimes concerning) amounts of coffee, the professors that will both terrorize and inspire you, the collective anxiety when grades are released, and the parties to forget them right after—these are experiences universal to those in the law school (at some points in the show, the screens will display how many days are left until the Bar exams. Seeing the number drop to around 500 made me feel more than a little queasy).
But universal, too, are the sleepless nights, the friends who leave (and the joy you feel for them marked by the tiniest bit of resentment that they get to have a life outside again), the wondering: 'What am I doing? When will what I’m doing ever be enough?' Bar Boys captures all of this and more perfectly, in a nostalgic way without being tacky, and heartwarming without trying too hard.
Bar Boys doesn’t just focus on law, however, no matter how much of a student of the law school life it takes up, each character reckons with and faces their own challenges in their personal lives.
Omar Uddin’s Josh is the first to be disillusioned by the promise law school offers to make a change in the real world. Erik, played by Benedix Ramos, constantly questions whether or not to continue his education given the financial strain it puts on his father despite the latter’s constant encouragement and support. Jerom Canlas’s Torran, a legacy of one of the college’s fraternities, struggles intending to make his mother proud while coming to terms with his own sexuality. And Chris, played by Alex Diaz, pushes himself to be number one, while also constantly convincing himself that he is not his father.
The chemistry between the core four is palpable on stage, and any scene with any combination of them together is hard to look away from.
Beyond the main cast, the rest of the ensemble also gives truly magnetic performances. Juliene Mendoza’s tear-jerking performance as Erik’s father is the everyman — hardworking, protective, and ceaseless in his hopes of a better life for his son. Topper Fabregas shines as Atty. Victor Cruz, a no-nonsense but attentive lawyer, and later mentor to Torran. And no one commands a stage like the incomparable Sheila Francisco as Justice Hernandez, the boys’ toughest professor and the embodiment of integrity and discipline.
One of the main points that Bar Boys drives home—and drives home quite effectively, at that—is that the law does not exist in a vacuum. With how long students get stuck inside the law school, it becomes more difficult to remember, Justice Hernandez laments, exactly whom it is we fight for.
The show’s number Tunay na Tao is one that struck a chord with me particularly: a reminder, more timely than ever, that this dream has never been, and will never be, about me.
More than anything, Bar Boys is the story of friendship, and how it wavers and strengthens in any form of adversity. In one scene, Chris starts to wonder when any of their work will ever be enough. While Erik is quite unsure himself, he simply reassures that they're in it together.
(I think about how many times I’ve had this conversation with my own law school group of friends, and maybe it made me tear up.)
Bar Boys is for those who have gone to law school, but it’s also for anyone who’s ever had a dream and knows the price one needs to pay to reach it. Heartwrenching, humorous, and inspiring, this brilliant musical is a poignant reminder, to us as individuals and maybe even as a country: Ang layo na ng ating narating; ang haba pa ng ating lalandasin.
Bar Boys: A Musical runs from May 3 to 19, 2024, at the Power Mac Center Spotlight Blackbox Theater, Circuit Makati.
