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There was one moment during the opening night of Here Lies Love at the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles when the full company was singing, holding up an “L” hand gesture representing the Laban sign, meaning “fight”. Part of the People Power Revolution, which was a widespread nonviolent revolution in the Philippines in 1986 that eventually led to the end of an oppressive 20-year dictatorship and Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos’s fall from grace.
There was a sense of commitment and defiance as the company, all of Filipino descent, danced and stomped on that stage, performing precise full-out choreography, house down boots thanks to the incredibly kinetic choreo courtesy of William Carlos Angulo — and I could have sworn I saw a moment of duck walking at one point.
Seeing a sea of brown faces on the stage dancing like rent was due gave me an emotional rush of pride and joy as if I were a proud auntie.
With Reanne Acasio, Joshua Dela Cruz, Chris Renfro, Carol Angeli, Aura Mayari, and Joan Almedilla leading the ensemble, every single member of this company showcased the comprehensive talent that the Filipino diaspora has. CTG Brindell & Milton Gottlieb Artistic Director Snehal Desai not only delivered on a promise of a subversive interpretation of a musical that has caused a mirrorball rift throughout the Filipino diaspora, but he also gave every single cast member a moment to shine, giving them moments to unapologetically eat that stage with their God-given talent.
Jaymee Ngernwichit’s costume design of modernized barongs, gorgeous ternos mixed with street-style Filipino flag-themed track suits (which I really want), draped the cast in cultural coolness, while RuPaul’s Drag Race alum Aura Mayari’s wardrobe added the drag the musical needed to give it more spectacle.
The musical’s players used nearly every inch of the space of the Mark Taper Forum wisely and effectively, giving the immersive feel similar to the Broadway production. However, journalist and friend Ashley Lee told me the Broadway production felt like a wild disco party with lots of dancing everywhere, as opposed to CTG’s production, which preferred a more traditional musical approach with elements of a disco party peppered throughout its streamlined vignettes.
The use of digital projections wasn’t overpowering and gimmicky as in other musicals, while the lighting — specifically the use of the gigantic disco ball reminiscent of The Phantom of the Opera’s chandelier — was outstanding, exaggerated, and impactful. When a glaring light blasted the disco ball, it drowned the Forum in a red light of fear, flooding the audience with the intimidation of martial law.
The core cast along with a spectacularly strong ensemble that includes Steven-Adam Agdeppa, Kayla Amistad, Kelvin Co, Joanne Javien Coudriet, Audrey Lyn Crabaño, JeffLorenz Garrido, Garrick Goce Macatangay, Danielle Louise Mendoza, Justine Rafael, Hayden Rivas, Ryan Salazar, and Sarah Kay (the Imelda understudy who sings her face off like nobody’s business!) are living proof that Filipino performers will forever be a personification of the triple threat, making this production of Here Lies Love a well-oiled musical machine of Filipino history — a Filipino history that can be difficult to watch.
The CTG production of Here Lies Love picks up what the Broadway production put down, taking creative license with the narrative and bringing the musical to a different territory than that of its predecessor, addressing concerns of naysayers, and actually reading the room instead of putting on a musical in a way that mimics the power of shallow artifice and the needy power that embodies Imelda.
Acasio’s performance as Imelda is measured and powerful as her character rises to ultimate diva cuntiness, giving us crystalline tone and Disney princess appeal with hefty gravitas. Opposite of her, Renfro rules with an iron fist as her dictator husband, depicting him as the Trump to her Melania, except with more charm and toxic allure. Angeli, Mayari, and Almedilla embrace their 11 o’clock moments with such grace and power in the glitzy spectacle, but it is Dela Cruz who is the MVP. The Blues Clues alum surrenders to the character of Ninoy Aquino, bringing an unexpected performance that is striking and full of swag.
“It’s very different from the Broadway production,” Lee told me when I asked her if it subverted the 2023 production. As I talked to others who watched the Broadway production at the Here Lies Love afterparty, I got the impression that the Broadway production didn’t lean into community engagement as much as CTG did. They mindfully weighed the good, the bad, and the ugly of telling this story about a the wife of a dictator.
Here lies the problem.
While sitting there watching this boldly and aggressively talented group of performers pour their heart and soul into a story rooted in their culture, there was a cloud of skepticism looming over me that I couldn’t avoid. It’s been there since the inception of this musical.
This musical wasn’t made for the Filipino community.
Granted, nearly everything in this production is Filipino or AAPI adjacent. In the grand tradition of musicals before it, such as Miss Saigon, Dreamgirls, West Side Story, The King and I, and Flower Drum Song, the musical was conceived by two white men, and I can never divorce that (I talk about it ad nauseam here). The musical reiterates a dark story some people might not want to revisit and gives in to what Imelda wants: attention.
As I take in the audible beauty of Acasio singing the hell out of these songs, I wonder how families impacted by the Marcos regime feel about watching actors play out trauma that impacted an entire diaspora — and still impacts them today.
Here Lies Love was put under the microscope and will always be dissected as long as it exists. At the same time, it can be a means to open the doors to suppressed trauma and bridge generations.
“I understand the criticism that the play isn’t the most historically accurate, specifically regarding the Ninoy-Imelda love story,” said Filipino musician and actor AJ Rafael said of the production. ”However, I don’t think anyone leaves Hamilton thinking, ‘Wow, that is exactly what happened during this part of history’.”
He continued, “My mom and stepdad, who lived in Manila through martial law, came up to me after the play, very eager to talk about that time in history. We’ve never talked about the Marcos era of the Philippines before — and that’s what I feel this play will bring: connections and conversations between the generation that lived through a horrible time in Philippine history and the generation that wants to know more about their origins.”
My push and pull of scrutiny doesn’t interfere with my view of the actual musical and the work put into it, but it does make me question where we are at in AAPI storytelling — particularly in the Filipino community and who has the agency to tell a diaspora’s story.
Despite that, CTG has gone out of its way to make sure they do right by the community. CTG maintains a level of comprehension of the material that aims to educate rather than entertain. “I like that they are trying,” said Filipino filmmaker Andrea Walter of the new production. “I’m still unsure if this musical has any sense to it and if it will glamorize Marcos and dictatorships.”
On the representation front, it is fantastic to see the Filipino diaspora displaying their talent that is often overlooked and unnoticed. I have hopes that it will blast open doors for Filipino narratives that aren’t told through a white lens or via an evil dictator and his wife.
CTG’s production of Here Lies Love successfully walked a fine line of divisiveness within the Filipino community, for the most part. The execution matches the intention, and the production gives hope and is filled with joy. It also stirs up fear and is a trigger to a moment in history that devastated an entire country. The musical can bolster resistance against tyrannical authority, but it can potentially bolster support for the Marcoses, who are currently in power in the Philippines. History seems to be repeating itself, and is also reflected in the authoritarianism in the United States in 2026. It all depends on what the audience wants to believe is the truth.
When it comes down to it, the Filipino diaspora wants to be represented with stories created by the community and for the community with respect, integrity, empathy, and without relying on white creators — because the colonizers stay colonizing.
