THE NEW HRT
More laughs wanted from a new comedy about reaching middle age
By DEEDEE STA. CRUZ-ESPINA
There was not an infectious strain of laughter, the kind that freezes your jaw. There were only sporadic bursts during the two-hour Menopause, The Musical. The hilarity of the show was lacking in power to deliver the prescription intended: The New HRT---Humor Replacement Therapy.
Perhaps, it was the overused theatrical act of parody. Or the humor was not Filipino. Or was it the weather and parking space? It was a rainy afternoon in the middle of summer-the humidity! And the parking lot was exploding with cars that queued left and right, typical of the Greenhills shopping complex, with or without a show at the Music Museum. You arrive at the theater exhausted. Really a bad prologue to a show.
NOT QUITE PINOY HUMOR
Written by Jeannie Linders, a 54-year-old Florida events marketer, the musical comedy aimed to present the lighter side of a phase every woman ultimately reaches. The libretto was a parody of 1960s and 1970s songs. Spoofed to bring home the menopause message, the songs collectively were to offer a relief formula for "The Change." While the objective was clear, the Americanish humor in the words that replaced the real lyrics of the songs was perhaps wanting of the Filipino taste. Tito, Vic, and Joey could have written better---Tagalog songs spoofed the Filipino way. But on second thought, what's Filipino for menopause?
The entire action of the play takes place in Bloomingdales, New York, where four American women in the throes of menopause literally bump into each other at a lingerie sale. All four grab a particular black bra, which sets off a comic repartee of dialogue and popular upbeat music hits such as "Staying Alive" modified into "Staying Awake" as a way of playing around symptoms of menopause.
It was a lengthy sharing of stories of menopause symptoms through the spoofed songs and dialogues in-between, among the four women, played by seasoned actors Mitch Valdes, Leah Navarro, Nanette Inventor, and Sheila Francisco. Their theatrical prowess though was enough to set the hilarious setting, despite the unappealing lyrics of the parodies. If not for the commanding voice, exaggerated moves, and overwhelming stage presence, the play could have not been worth watching.
"Wishin' and Hopin'" told about a menopausal woman's wish that hot flashes would soon go away. And "The Great Pretender," pretended that she is "doing well, sometimes forgetting why she's there, and pretending there's no brain collapse." "What's Love Got To Do With It," told about whether she's getting sex and asking what's love got to do with it. About 25 songs told about hot flushes, ballooning from size two to size six, insomnia, memory lapses, depression, and sex drive.
THE SYMPTOMS
Valdes, playing the Power Woman, was obviously talking about memory lapses when she went, "I can sing the words to every song I ever heard in the 60s, but I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, or for breakfast this morning for that matter."
"I could main line Dong Quai and I still wouldn't sleep! I am sorry. It's the insomnia. During the day I get so cranky," Earth Mother, played by Inventor, apologizes for mood swings. "I'm just so tired of not sleeping," says looking exasperated in her hippie get-up.
And Navarro, who played the vain Soap Star, carried on her role to make known the eventual weight gain, "Sounds familiar. I chew on lettuce on the set, but the minute I set my foot in the door I become one of those scavenger birds. Anything I can get my claws on."
The complaining Iowa Housewife, played by Francisco, talks about the silence that is not the Silent Passage. "Don't tell me about passage. Isn't the change supposed to be 'The Silent Passage'?"
REDEMPTION
The show redeemed itself when toward the finale came out the greatest prop of them all: the "second-hand emotion" that was pink, long, and hard, to the tune of Tina Turner's "What's Love Got To Do With It." The vibrator suddenly became the star of the show, as the four women seemed to agree that it was the greatest friend, singing "Only You" by The Platters. "Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do," led the Iowa Housewife, quivering as in orgasmic spasm while holding the pink vibrator in supplication. The audience simply shrieked in laughter. "Forget my man, for now it's only you," continued the housewife, soliciting more laughter. Pity the husbands who took their wives to the show, only to be ridiculed, however unintentionally. Well, men can say their piece in an erectile dysfunction musical.
And as it was a musical, there were no encores. Neither a buzz of complimentary whispers down the exit alley, which are expected from a satisfied audience. As the crowd left the theater in a slow queue, all they could muster was that the exit passage was too claustrophobic. Some swore not to go back, for safety reasons. You cannot blame them. Older people, especially the menopausal ones, are the hardest to please.
The new HRT had the noble purpose of helping female audiences more comfortably face this inevitable transition into advanced womanhood with better understanding, and yes, humor, too. But the book was short of being enjoyed by a Filipino audience to the fullest. There is a kind of humor that appeals to us. Filipino humor is different. And so are Filipino humorists. Perhaps in the future, Bahaghari Productions Inc. can produce a parody that is therapeutically appealing to a local menopausal audience.
PRODUCED BY
MUSIC MUSEUM AND
BAHAGHARI PRODUCTIONS
BOOK AND LYRICS BY
JEANIE LINDERS
DIRECTED BY
LEO RIALP
MUSICAL DIRECTION BY
COLBY DELA CALZADA
STARRING
MITCH VALDES
NANETTE INVENTOR
LEAH NAVARRO
SHEILA FRANCISCO
|
