Is there a place in the world for the arts, love, and theatre? Mula sa Buwan dives into this question headfirst, and boy, did it deliver an answer.
Nothing beats the thrill of shoes clacking on stage to a lively melody for us theatre geeks. With choreography that makes you sway in your seat and songs that stick in your head long after the show, Mula sa Buwan is exactly this and offers a poetic and passionate exploration of unrequited love, self-sacrifice, misfits, and the power of words and poetry, all set against the backdrop of 1940s Manila during World War II.
I managed to snag tickets to their extended, second-to-the-last show last September 14th at the Samsung Performing Arts Theater in Makati. And let me tell you, this musical deserves to be restaged annually, in every venue, and every city across the Philippines.
Yes, I said it.
Staged by the Barefoot Theatre Collaborative, Mula sa Buwan is a brilliant Filipino adaptation of Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac. The original story, with its famous Cyrano and his distinctive nose, gets a fresh twist by Pat Valera and William Manzano, blending Filipino cultural and historical elements seamlessly.
Myke Salomon nails it as Cyrano, an ROTC “kadete” who’s a mix of poet, patriot, misfit, activist, and hopeless romantic. He leads his cadets through the ups and downs of war and love. On the other hand, Gab Pangilinan’s portrayal of Roxane is hauntingly beautiful, with melodies that give you chills. Then there is MC Dela Cruz, who plays Christian, the dashing “promding bagong salta,” adding depth to the love triangle in this tragedy.
The rest of the cast shines too. Phi Palmos is fabulous as Rosanna, the cabaret owner; Brian Sy’s Maximo serves as the ROTC commander and occasional antagonist; Jerom Canlas brings depth to Tato, the maestro, and Jillian Ita-as plays his love interest, Gabriel, with grace. The entire ensemble delivers a performance that’s both upbeat and deeply moving.
Mula sa Buwan isn’t just a musical; it’s a thesis on the role of the arts in society. It explores the place of the “tanghalan” (theatre), sarswela, and poetry in a changing world while spotlighting the experiences of misfits and outsiders—in this case, a quirky theatre troupe in a conservative society.
It shows that during tough times, it is through the arts, especially music, that we find solace and hope. Songs like “Ang Tanghalang Ito” and the titular “Mula sa Buwan” underscore this beautifully. “Tinig sa Dilim?” is a poignant duet, and “Ikaw“—my personal favorite—is a poetic confession of unrequited love that hit home. I’ve been playing it on repeat and annoying my friends because it’s that good.
The second act, as often happens, takes a darker turn. It starts with a jarring scene featuring the bayong-headed “makapili” and transitions into battle’s chaos. The final scene, with the ruins of post-war Manila, a red tree, and falling stacks of paper, will have you in tears—no cap.
It’s incredibly timely—strange to say for a show set in the ’40s—but its blend of romance, tragedy, and heartbreak feels profoundly relevant today. It’s comedic when it wants to be, heartbreaking in an instant, and sometimes an odd mix of both in those pivotal scenes—truly “Mula sa Buwan,” is a beautiful analogy for finding one’s place. The magic of the moon, the power of storytelling, and the importance of the arts are conveyed with such brilliance in this musical.
So, to answer the question, “Is there a place in the world for the arts, love, and theatre?” Mula sa Buwan gives us an emphatic “Yes, there is,” and then some.
The standing ovation the cast got at the end was very well-earned. And borrowing a phrase from the show, it’s only fitting to say sanlibong papuri! (a thousand praises!) for ???? ?? ?????. It’s a show I’d gladly revisit, going to the moon and back just to see it again.
If you ever get the chance to experience this magical show, when the cast takes their final bow, you’ll surely understand and agree when I say, “Tayo’y mula sa buwan.”
Photo: Mula sa Buwan/Elyandre Dagli • @daglifilms I FB PAGE
