‘Tao Po’ opens hearts and minds

MAE

Paner, popularly known as Juana Change, is quietly but powerfully attacking the main arguments of the anti-drug war through a small play about humanity vs. inhumanity. This time, she’s not leading a rally. She’s performing in a play.

“Tao Po,” a monologue of four parts, marshals the power of theater towards a hot topic that seems to perpetually divide us a people. It presents the stories of a barangay zumba instructor, a policeman living a double life as a cop and as a hitman, a young girl paying tribute to fallen friends interred in apartment-type tombs, and a photojournalist who begins to see the humanity of what his editors call his mere “subjects” or “assignments.”

Of the characters Paner beautifully gives life to in “Tao Po,” – my favorite is Rosing, the zumba instructor. Her story begins in a funny way, complete with zumba moves, and yet gives what could be the most telling blows as it unfolds. By the end of this story, one cannot help but think and thank Paner for her heroic artistic effort.

I’ve seen Paner deliver two performances of “Tao Po”: The first at the Cultural Center of the Philippines last year, and the other at the University of the Cordilleras last month.

In both instances, see her as a skilled theater artist who assumes her four roles, speaks the hearts and minds of “Tao Po” characters, and brings the audience to a common ground where some tear up and mostly emerge as having been empowered by a new way of presenting what is by now “a tired issue.”

The script by Maynard Manansala, a Palanca awardee, is unconcerned with presidential beliefs (and fraudulent claims), presidential utterances, presidential decrees, or presidential orders. He found no need to summon the president’s name, although the play delves into the chief executive’s overarching and defining program of government.

That the script does not mention the president’s name could perhaps be the play’s effort to challenge the dominant narrative and to make the audience members, regardless of political beliefs, feel comfortable to sit through the entire performance. But even if the play hides the president’s name, the stories cannot prevent the audience members from remembering him.

Instead of being a direct challenge to the president, “Tao Po” elevates to the stage the stories of the victims and their kin. And through the script penned by Manansala and performed by Paner, we get to reach a place where temporary political loyalties become irrelevant. Alternatively, the play makes the audience confront and the fundamental humanity and dignity of the characters.

A monologue like “Tao Po” may appear to be simple and easy to mount, but that’s because of the competent direction by Ed Lacson Jr. He leads the way in realizing the creative vision of Manansala, Paner, and dramaturg Rody Vera. Whether it was the small theater at the CCP or the cavernous auditorium in Baguio’s UC, “Tao Po” came out powerfully, with no small thanks to Lacson.

Each performance of “Tao Po” is capped by a “talk back” session where select audience members share their reactions. When I watched the play at the CCP, some audience members were actually widows or mothers of victims of extrajudicial killings. Some were already reacting ahead of the “talk back” session. They were seeing their photos and hearing their stories. “Ako yun! Ako yun!” one of them shouted. In Baguio City, we saw audience members of artists, journalists, government employees, barangay officials, and students wiping away tears.

In the two shows I’ve seen, I could say that “Tao Po” achieves its objective of “knock(ing) into people’s hearts and asking the hard question: Is there humanity left within us?” And it does so in a production that Helen Musa of Canberra’s City News described as “the most stunning piece of theater I’ve seen all year.” Baguio City’s proud artists were prodded to take pride in an Artists for Human Rights manifesto at the end of the performance there, led by no less than National Artists Ben Cabrera and Kidlat Tahimik.

“Tao Po” has been shown since September, 2017, at the following venues: University of the Philippines, Ateneo Law School, Lyceum of the Philippines, and Maybank Performing Arts Center, Melbourne, Canberra, the CCP and UC in Baguio. Almost always, the audiences give it a standing ovation for making them fall in love with the play and its stories, but perhaps ultimately for rediscovering the common humanity and dignity they share with the characters.

The regime’s narrative on the drug war may still claim commanding popularity nowadays, backed up by the menacing power of the state. Yet here is “Tao Po” courageously shedding light on the battle between humanity and inhumanity raging in our homes, our communities, and our country. It tells us that we may disagree on politics, but we could agree on the more important things like dignity. I could only hope that it helps us find a new narrative capable of defeating what’s dominant right now and of uniting our people in the near future.

“Tao Po” returns to the stage on March 14 at the Ateneo de Manila University. You should watch it. Watch it with your friends and family. Watch and rediscover the common threads that binds us as a people.