Theater review: 'Flipzoids' — Absorbing tales of Pinoy migrants' alienation

A nurse, a bleached blonde bathroom-dweller, and a woman in a saya meet in a beach one day to tell a story wrenchingly-familiar to Filipinos scattered around the globe.

 

Written in the '90s by immigrant and Obie award-winning playwright Ralph Peña, "Flipzoids" depicts the alienation and insecurity Filipino migrants faced in establishing their identity in a new land.

 

Though it was first performed in the Philippines in 1998, the performances in Music Museum last July 17 to 19 is the same production from its 2012 showing in Los Angeles.

 

Set in a less politically-correct '80s version of Anaheim, California, the play starts with Aying (Becca Godinez), a 70-year-old woman with traditional values reminding her daughter Evangeline (Ellen D. Williams) of their life in Pagudpod, Ilocos Norte — even as the younger woman, a nurse, tries to memorize the dictionary and forget her island life.

 

Their conflict is fought mostly in subtext: as Aying tells her to never "forget, always remember", Vangie reminds her of how much "better" the smell of balikbayan boxes from the US smelled, and how they now smell like the boxes. When Aying tells her to remember why she is "better" by wearing her white nurse's uniform, Vangie explained that white meant nothing because they haven't melted with the crowd.

 

While those characters have strong connections to what they perceive as home, Redford (Maxwel Corpuz), a twentysomething son of immigrants, cannot even form these connections to have a home.

 

Though well-versed in life as described by Vanity Fair — his migrant parents' "spiritual center" for their new life in the US — he cannot connect with anyone in this culture or the life his parents shunned upon flying out of the Philippines. He is reduced to talking to strangers in "fetid fuck chambers," begging strangers to stay and talk or sit in silence.

 

His connection with Aying is defined by desperation; but unlike Vangie's despair to turn her mother away from their roots, Redford begs her to tell him what he was not allowed to remember.

 

Aying, who suffers from early-onset dementia, gives both more than they want: to Vangie, she gives her heart by commemorating her beloved Pagudpud's Milagrosa in a shopping mall, absolving mall-goers of sin with the help of a water fountain and traditional dances. In Redford, she entrusts stories of fishermen going out to sea, laot, and the sights and smells of the ancestral home she was forced to leave for Anaheim.

 

Though she firmly believes in agua's restorative properties, neither Vangie nor Redford accept her blessings. Evangeline denounces her connection with Aying, seeing her as a slight in her perfect vision of the American life. Redford similarly rejects her, though he does so out of shame, as he cannot even recall her story of home.

 

Both only understand Aying's obsession with memory and water, of its potential to renew life, in the end, when they have nothing but the beach to help them remember the old woman.

 

What's remarkable about their struggles was how the script and the actors pulled their strength from reality, both from the perspective of migrants and those they leave behind.

 

Godinez, who brought the show from L.A., told GMA News Online that her experiences as a migrant heavily influenced not just her performance, but also her decision to bring the L.A. production to Manila.

 

“When I went to America, I went through loneliness, cultural adjustment. Parang, how do you do old world and translate that to America? Because I have a daughter—how do you allow that? How do you allow her to still appreciate the culture that I love? The blood that goes through me is Pinoy," she said.

 

“My daughter was offish because she couldn't relate. But then I began to teach her our culture. Therein lies the story: some people accept it, some people just don't want to.”

 

These experiences translated well in her performance, and while her Ilocano accent slips into her acquired American twang at times, her portrayal of an old woman clinging on to her last memories of home was heartbreaking.

 

Ellen D. Williams' Evangeline, an easy character to hate outright, was complex and cringeworthy in how human her knee-jerk reactions were to her mother's antics. Her scene with Godinez in the shopping mall was top; instead of selling it with tears, she channeled her sorrow through her voice, complementing Godinez' expressive movements.

 

Maxwel Corpuz injected genuine emotion into Redford, whose lines could have easily devolved into hammy in the hands of lesser actors. And though he couldn't make Redford's dream monologue any less toe-curling, he did make his character's anguished screaming of "Pangit ako!" mean "I love you" — a last prank by a senile Aying on an unsuspecting American.

 

Director John Lawrence Rivera's play on lighting and blocking around the minimalist set design by John H. Binkley allowed audiences to focus on the characters' emotional exchanges, while coaxing audiences to believe in this world represented by a sand pit and a clay basin.

 

The lighting and the blocking of actors also helped maintain a sense of separation between the characters; even in scenes where characters set the stage, or literally touch each other, audiences are left with a sense of void.

 

Rivera's confinement of water to a clay basin and glass jars forced audiences to rely on actors, and good sound clips, to properly relay the scale of the ocean and its significance to Aying's character arc. It's a clever solution to the play's logistical problems, and serves a purpose beyond decorating the set.

 

While the production of the 18-year-old play is entertaining, it was disappointing to see whole rows of empty seats around the tiny performance area of the Music Museum. The balcony didn't even need to be opened due to the lack of patrons.

 

The disappointing turnout might discourage Godinez from putting the show back on again, though Filipinos in other countries may appreciate it more than local audiences. — JST, GMA News