Arbol de Fuego: Through the Run Orchard

MANILA, Philippines - A few notes at the rehearsals of Arbol de Fuego, PETA’s adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard, New Manila, Quezon City, February 2015

The theater wars are back. And we don’t mean the theater of war down south, rather the healthy stage rivalry kind here in Metro Manila, because opening on the third weekend of February are two plays of diverse persuasions that up the ante for teahter-teahter as it were – Arbol de Fuego by PETA in New Manila, and Juego de Peligro or Dangerous Liaisons by Tanghalang Pilipino in Pasay’s CCP. Their respective lead actresses, Cherie Gil and Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino, could well be the finest of their generation, whether indie side or mainstream or live action, and for a few weekends leading into another summer of promised blackouts will be going toe to toe, mano-a-mano even, under the klieg lights, albeit on opposite sides of town.

Guy versus Vi? That’s old hat. Move over rover, let Cherie and Shamaine take over.

“That’s not even 50 percent, what you saw,” Arbol director Loy Arcenas, who now has directed both actresses, says of Gil, in a post rehearsal conversation at the Philippine Educational Theater Association building on Eymard Street, days before opening night. Gil plays a scion of Bacolod old rich, unlucky in romance, as she tries to save the family estate that bears the cherry orchard of childhood from auction. She may be on a roll playing such characters of the gently fading Negrense, as she did in Peque Gallaga’s Sonata and that indie production from College of St. Benilde side, Mana.

Tonight she is wearing a blue dress, and as blue dresses go, the actress cannot help but stand out, yes even in rehearsals. No wonder her director raves.

“We made some changes, a Filipino adaptation, but still Chekhov, and strangely very close to home,” Arcenas says of the translation by his frequent collaborator Rody Vera, who has written the scripts for his Cinemalaya entries Niño which starred Centenera, and Requieme. They decided to add, for good measure, the character of the gay brother, and in the script satirical references to Mama Mary. Which may ruffle some feathers, Arcenas admits, especially of birds of the faith.

“You’re not religious, are you?” the director asks, almost rhetorically.

Maybe only in the dark, especially when eyes are trained on Ms. Gil who leads a stellar cast that includes Bembol Roco, Angeli Bayani and Leo Rialp, not exactly powerhouse but more than enough to carry the day and a run through the orchard, eyes wide shut and an imaginary wind blowing past the rehearsal hall with hungry mosquitoes hovering.

The Cherie character attempts to match-make one of her daughters (Bayani) with the former serf (correctly translated as the politically incorrect alila) who, later, winds up winning the auction for the estate of his deposed landlords.

So when Cherie says the line, “Pagpapasyahan na ang aking tadhana” with the auction imminent, we cannot but marvel how long the road since ‘Boy,’ the hit single decades ago, or her character of the rebellious virgin who gives it to the wounded guerrilla Ronnie Lazaro in Oro Plata Mata, or the now classic contravida in Bituing Walang Ningning where she splashes water on Sharon Cuneta along with one of the most remembered lines in local cinema, “You’re nothing but a secondhand, trying hard copycat.”

“‘Pag binenta mo ‘yung arbol de fuego na ‘yan, ibenta mo na rin ako,” her character says, and all the orchards of childhood come to light, whether cherry, mango, caimito or chesa, the taste of the fruit the sweetest memory though the trees are no more and the family estate gone.

There are other lines just as memorable, like those said by the Bembol character about how back in the day, kings and presidents were invited to the village baile, but lately only soldiers not even with the rank of lieutenant are regulars in the dances, “parang nagbabantay lang sa checkpoint.”

It’s not really about being mata-pobre, rather a manifestation of a change of fortune, the wheel ever turning, to everything a season.

During the run through a spotlight bursts, one-five, a stage hand instantly laments, and the curtains made of fabric purchased in Divisoria are not exactly hung the right way, it’s clear there still remains some major tweaking to be done with the countdown to D-day fast dwindling.

But when the scene comes that the news is bared of the estate’s auction, everything again falls on Ms. Gil, yes even at rehearsals, the breathlessness at 50 percent.

Afterwards there is the standard company call, where director and cast throw around suggestions and comments, the better to make the play shine, to relocate Chekhov in unmistakable Pinoy setting.

“Every country will do The Cherry Orchard differently, but it will still be basically Chekhov,” Arcenas says, perhaps suggesting that though theater companies may in their own way put a stamp on the play, the author remains universally Chekhovian.

The director cites as example the fact that many British actors are mainstays in American-set films, “what does that say?” Not least, about the universality of theater, an art without borders, sans frontiers.

As actors make their exit after the company call, Rialp asks Arcenas if it was okay how he daubed with pencil liner his hairline, because his hair is not that thin anyway.

No mention is made about the Chekhovian gun, which for the nonce may have been swallowed by a small dog on a leash held by the actress Gil, who has changed to slacks. The gun sure to go off during the play’s regular run, kicking off the theater wars far from the theater of war.

Arbol de Fuego runs until March 15 at the PETA Theater, 5 Eymard Drive, New Manila, Quezon City. For performance schedule, call 725-6244 or visit www.facebook.com/PETATHEATER