CG 08

Noelle writes....
Ever since I was a little girl, I always had dreams of an empty stage, dancing shoes, spotlights and a wonderful orchestra. I even told my friends that I truly and really believe that I am a reincarnation of a 1940s musical actress who was deprived of her voice and her dancing skills upon her rebirth as me. Thus, the reason for my distinctly horrible voice and my uncoordinated left feet... Anyone who hears me sing karaoke and goes clubbing with me can attest to this. Ok, I'm straying from the topic.

I love M-U-S-I-C-A-L-S.

When I was a kid, I know no other music than that of Schonberg or Lloyd Webber or Sondheim. I dream of myself onstage, of being Kim or Christine or even Javert. I memorize the lyrics and I sing all the parts of the song which is kinda weird if you think about it but fun when you actually do it. Wait. Did I say sing? I meant attempt to sing.

Ok. Back to the topic which is the title of the blog.

I just saw the Manila version of West Side Story. And it moved me. The Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer film version is my most favorite movie of all time. I was expecting so much from this musical because no doubt about it, theatre gives so much more than what a movie can. But my excitement was ruined by my sister who saw the play earlier on and said that it was disastrous. So I went to the theatre with low expectations and a heavy heart. Skeptical of the entrance of the Jets and doubtful of the first five minutes. But once they leapt to those high jumps and the wonderful wonderful music of Sondheim filled my ears, I was captured.

The choreography was pretty much the same as the movie but seeing it live sent shivers down my spine. I wanted to kick and twirl and swing my hips (which I can't really do except in my head). And once the play began, the singer and the dancer and the actor in me plays out the parts in my head. I was Tony. I was Maria. I was Bernardo. I was Anita. I fell in love. I hated the PRs. I wanted to kill the Jets. My boyfriend died. I killed my lover's brother. I was everyone. I was everywhere. Until they started the curtain call. It ended. And I was once more myself.

Congratulations to the outstanding cast. I was very very impressed. Karylle went well and beyond my expectations. Christian Bautista did make some mistakes but he was perfectly casted as Tony that those little things could be forgiven. Rowena Vilar is a thread away from Rita Moreno. And we all know how Rita Moreno owned the character of Anita. I looked twice at Jake Macapagal's Bernardo and then looked some more. He looked so much like George Chakiris that I actually let out a little shout when he went for his bow. Gian Macapagal was good in his portrayal of Riff but I did miss the womb to tomb and birth to earth part which they left out or changed. I'm not exactly sure. Or else I just missed that part. No. Wait. They said sperm to worm instead of birth to earth. Ok, I'm rambling. I just had to add one more thing. I don't exactly remember his name but the actor who sang Get Cool was also spot on. No strain on his voice despite the breathless dance they did.

I have to stop typing cos I might just go on and on. I know this blog entry is boring but I just had to write it. I want to relive every moment.

Another confession before I end the entry. I actually looked up the cast in facebook, saw some of the cast pictures and it made me smile.

More than that, it made me sad. I will never experience the joy of performing, the exxhaustion of rehearsals, the friendship backstage and all the other things that go with it. I get stuck on the seats before the stage. In the nameless crowd. Dreaming. Singing and dancing in my head. All because I was blessed with two left feet and a distinctly horrible voice.