A quiet restaurant. Two men, a professor and his student, locked in conversation. This is the deceptively simple premise ofAbout Us But Not About Us, a story that quickly spirals into a gripping exploration of hidden truths and fractured relationships. What began as a film has now been reborn on stage, retaining its power to unsettle and captivate.
Romnick Sarmenta and Elijah Canlas reprise their roles with a breathtaking intensity. Sarmenta embodies Eric, a man radiating charm yet burdened by unspoken regrets, while Canlas portrays Lance, a student brimming with youthful energy and a simmering undercurrent of volatility. Their chemistry is undeniable, a delicate dance of attraction and suspicion that fuels the narrative’s relentless momentum.
The stage adaptation elevates the story with a striking visual element: a backdrop of crumpled paper, a symbolic representation of the stories and literary allusions that bind these characters. Translucent doors offer glimpses into the past, revealing layers of complexity absent from the original film. These flashbacks aren’t mere additions; they are essential keys to understanding the intricate web of desires and betrayals.
Central to this expanded narrative is Marcus, the deceased husband of Eric, brought vividly to life by Epy Quizon and Andoy Ranay. Ranay, in the performance witnessed, delivers a masterful portrayal of a celebrated novelist – arrogant, insightful, and deeply flawed. His presence transforms the dynamic, shifting the focus from a two-sided story to a complex triangle of interconnected vulnerabilities.
A particularly harrowing scene between Eric and Marcus stands out as a testament to the actors’ skill. What begins as a heated argument descends into a brutal exchange of long-held resentments, a raw and unflinching depiction of a relationship corroded by unspoken truths. It’s a moment that demands attention, resonating deeply with anyone who has navigated the treacherous terrain of a toxic connection.
The film’s brilliance lay in its ambiguity, in the way Sarmenta and Canlas subtly embodied the “ghost” of Marcus through their performances. The stage adaptation sacrifices this subtle thrill, but gains a powerful emotional resonance by giving Marcus a tangible form. It’s a trade-off that ultimately enriches the story’s depth.
Jun Robles Lana’s script fearlessly confronts themes of trauma, fidelity, ambition, and legacy, placing queer characters at the forefront. The story’s setting during the pandemic adds another layer of isolation, mirroring the emotional distance between the characters. The uninterrupted 90-minute runtime further intensifies the experience, leaving the audience breathless and fully immersed in the unfolding drama.
Sarmenta and Canlas seamlessly revisit their roles, building upon the established chemistry with a newfound nuance. The addition of Ranay (or Quizon) adds crucial layers to the intricate tapestry of lies and insecurities. The power dynamics are palpable, the silences deafening, and the revelations shocking.
While the play is performed entirely in English, both versions share a curious quality: a slightly exaggerated portrayal of the Philippine literary scene. The characters’ descent into a vortex of secrets and mistakes can feel relentlessly bleak, yet this isolation is precisely what allows the story to function, trapping them within their own self-destructive cycle.
About Us But Not About Usremains a compelling and nuanced portrayal of queer love in the Philippines. It’s a thrilling, unpredictable journey that doesn’t shy away from difficult truths, offering a visceral and unforgettable theater experience. It’s a story that lingers long after the curtain falls, prompting reflection on the complexities of human connection and the enduring scars of the past.
