I sat on the couch at A Space Manila, watching the cast of This Is Our Youth read their lines for the first time. These 20-something-year-olds play adolescents here. One of them was talking about stealing money from daddy, while the other kept asking for pot and cash.
They all sounded too familiar, like those cranky millennials cussing at life on the streets, hoping passersby hear their best conyo accents. Except, this isn’t about them. Neither is this play just for them.
Of Rabbit Hole fame, Topper Fabregas is directing an offbeat comedy that differs from your traditional Wicked experience. No pompous stage design. No foreign cast. No ridiculously expensive tickets. You’ll be watching in a small room, probably elbow to elbow with the nearest viewer. If you’re lucky, you might end up catching a whiff of stray pot as props.
This is a Red Turnip production we’re talking about: intimate, smart, and rebellious. It’s the first installment of their “0.5” series, the company’s latest project that launches smaller-scale plays on a quarterly basis. The crazier this all sounds, well, the crazier it actually is.
These are our parents
At first listen, the play sounds like a long, tiring conversation. That’s because it is. But like all dialogue-driven, plot-less plays, it’s always been about what’s being said. “The story is about the in-betweens—that time you’re not [all] grown up yet, but you can’t call yourself a teenager anymore. There’s that internal struggle among characters,” Topper explains.
“There’s a misconception that [This Is Our Youth is] about nothing, but it has so much to say on that state of life that we can all completely relate to. It says it so eloquently without hitting you on the head. It doesn’t force stuff onto you.”
The play is set in the early ’80s, prompting Gen X and middle-aged parents to reminisce about the troubles and consumerism that existed during their day. Despite the time stamp, it talks about timeless insecurities through young characters that are all but sure of themselves—much like everybody else here.
“They’re so flawed. The way they are written is just so funny and flawed. I can relate, but sometimes I don’t. But the thing is, you’ll always be sympathetic to them,” says Topper.
Acting young
Thespians Nicco Manalo, Jef Flores, and Cindy Lopez are playing Warren, Dennis, and Jessica, respectively—all adults assuming the roles of kids.
Like Nicco, Jef was approached for the role personally. “I told Topper I’d love to do this. When he sent in the script I wanted to kill him,” he says jokingly, perhaps over the gravity of his mad, complex character Dennis. “[The script] was enthralling. But I was very worried because when I first read it, Dennis just punches me in the face. He grabs onto [me.] It’s riveting—it’s a small show, and we’ve got the biggest responsibilities as actors.”
To Cindy, playing a hormonal, insightful teenager also hits the feels. “Jessica is just raw. She’s trying to figure out life just like how I was when I was figuring things out,” she shares. “[These characters] are trying to stay true to what their problems are. The problems that they had weren’t time-bound. I’ve experienced that ‘What the fuck am I gonna do?’ stage when I was their age, and only realized that until a year ago.”
To those who think identity crises only plague the young, think some more. Like, really reflect on yourself and your place in time. Are you happy? Are you mad? Do you wish you’re doing something else right now apart from reading this and mechanically existing?
If you do, then you might have to watch this.
This Is Our Youth is showing at A Space Makati on two weekends this November. Catch it on Nov. 6, 7, 8, 20, 21, and 22 on either a 4 p.m. or 8 p.m. showing. For more information, visit Red Turnip Theater’s website.
Photo courtesy of Red Turnip Theater
