BWW REVIEWS- GHOST THE MUSICAL MANILA

April 25, 2014- Makati City, Philippines

The stage of the Carlos P. Romulo Auditorium of the RCBC Plaza turned into a furtive arena for a
courageous theatrical exploit in the 2014 Southeast Asian premiere of Ghost, brought to the Philippines
by Atlantis Productions and Ten Bridges Media Corporation in their very first theatrical presentation as a
joint venture.
With book by Bruce Joel Rubin, music and lyrics by Dave Stewart and Glenn Ballard, and musical
direction by Ceejay Javier, under the direction of Bobby Garcia, Ghost the stage incarnation of the
1990 blockbuster film of the same title featuring Patrick Swayze, Demi Moore, and Academy Award
winner Whoopi Goldberg centers on Sam Wheat and Molly Jensen and how their love defies the
fantastic limits between the living and the supernatural.
Set in modern-day New York, the show opens with an over-the-top rock overture sending out a
subliminal warning to brace oneself for flamboyant stage entrances introducing the shows principal
characters, but the first opening bars of the overture turn out to be merely anti-climactic. The curtains
open to no pomp or splendor accompanying a full cast ensemble, but with the dewy-eyed couple Sam
and Molly - played by Christian Bautista (Cinderella, the Westside Story) and Cris Villonco (Romeo and
Bernadette, The Sound of Music, Jekyll and Hyde), respectively - lugging their chic belongings as they
move into a posh New York flat, with the help of Sams bestfriend, Carl Bruner, played by Hans Eckstein
(Piaf, Rock of Ages).
Caught within the throes of a sinister web of deceit and betrayal spawned by the greed of his best friend
and fellow bank executive Carl, the dreamy-eyed Sam meets his death in the hands of a henchman hired
to steal crucial bank information needed to funnel funds into a secret bank account. After Sams murder,
his ghost lingers, eventually setting off a train of events that bring danger to his girlfriend Molly, while
dragging along in its wake, the flamboyant psychic, Oda Mae Brown.
Bautistas probe into the supernatural psyche of the murdered Sam leaves certain grey areas that need
further meticulous attention, specifically that which involves a full-spectrum exploration of the stages of
the characters grief--- especially since he IS the one who actually died. Would there also be denial,
bargaining, anger, and acceptance when one is grieving for ones own death? The challenge here for any
actor is to be able to masterfully cram all these unique possibilities for motivation into one solid, yet
fluid performance, and in this case, Bautista seems to be a tad out of his element here in hitting the G-
spot (the Ghost spot, pardon the pun). Also pointedly amiss here is a more sharply contoured
countenance of a sense of urgency in the fury tinted with confused despair. A more studied take on the
character would have entailed an edge-of-your-seat rage and a heart-breaking physical anguish which
borders on the palpable and tempestuous --- rage and anguish so glutinous that it can be cut with a
knife when it permeates the atmosphere surrounding the ghost of Sam. In Bautistas hands, Sams anger
is stiffly guarded, fueled by an almost mechanical frustration. The rage wafts within an opaque yet
ironically, diluted glob. Bautista is sensational as the placating sweet guy. There are even laudable
winning attributes to his portrayal such as the ease and expertise with which he draws the audience in
with the magnetism of a seasoned matinee crooners swoon-worthy vocal textures and stylizations,
prevalent in his romantic breathy whispers (as showcased in a guilty-pleasure number, the cheesy
Unchained Melody serenade to Molly, which should henceforth be aptly renamed Oversaturated
Melody due to its overexposure during the second act). In sweet and nurturing tones, Bautista justly
delivers, but on more challenging high notes which require the full-bodied flavor of a powerful chest
register and the resonance of a strong sustain, he uncomfortably wavers, and substitutes with a reticent
falsetto.
Villonco, firstly, is an immaculate visual delight as Molly Jensen, she takes on the role with a risk-free
characterization, and tucks herself neatly and cozily within the gooey center of her wide-eyed, ingnue
role. Perhaps the biggest challenge in taking on such a character with clearly-printed out instructions on
its sleeve on how it should be acted (much like laundry instructions) is that it might lull the actor into
doing just that, desultorily coloring the role neatly within the lines. The passion is there, but only to a
certain depth, and one easily explained at that- by a readily available construct: love + death = sadness
and grief. Colorful avenues for character motivations are always exciting roads to explore, and in this
case, one would even perhaps discover a character motivation for Molly that would assuage the tugging
question why is she too needy? Villonco is perfect as Molly, too good in fact that maybe, just maybe,
she is exactly the type of person Villonco portrays her to be- someone who sees sadness as just plain
sadness, tears as just plain tears, and love as just simple romance. In one word, shallow. A character
whose emotions never transcend any deeper than the gleaming surface of youth and romance, at least
not any deeper than it needs to probe. Perhaps Sams death and subsequent supernatural return is the
wakeup call Villoncos Molly needs so she can put things into proper perspective and finally add more
levels to her perceptions. But then again, Molly is an artist, so isnt she supposed to be multi-leveled and
complicated (as artists usually are) from the get-go? So therein lies the dilemma. One thing is
guaranteed with Villoncos performance however, it is that vocally, she is all present. The well-
disciplined dynamics she uses on such clear notes are quite a marvel and her sustain is a powerful
engine that she has mastered to halt gracefully when needed brakes are applied. In this production, she
is at a comfortable cruising speed. She is at her most resplendent in the heartbreaking With You, both
as Molly the heartbroken ingnue and Cris the skilled minstrel.
Hans Eckstein is the consummate charming devil in a sanguine portrayal of Carl Bruner. His stage
movements are purposeful, almost romantically maniacal, delivering his lines with a sharp tonality
distinctly marked with a polished, mellifluous charisma. Handling the complexity of his character as
bestfriend-turned-betrayer with concern and detailed understanding, he forges farther by managing to
deftly and trickily introduce a well-disguised remorse to the array of emotions that Carl is already going
through - jealousy, envy, panic, anger and anguish. Ecksteins singing voice is built like a well-oiled,
locomotive - there is a controlled endurance in his singing, much like in his delivery of lines. His vocal
texture is sleek and smooth, but booming, all the while retaining a comely, almost regal consistency
which manages to expertly chew the scenery.
Although unconventionally more bat-her-eyes-down-in-shyness Celia than grab-life-by-the-disco-
balls Shug in the Color Purple in her turn as Oda Mae Brown, Ima Castro (Miss Saigon, Aida, Piaf) still
manages to bring the much needed comedic whoop and fresh street-smarts to the white-bread world of
Sam and Molly. With a role tailor-fit for Whoopi Goldberg and typical to the roles she would go on to
play after her Academy Award performance as Oda Mae in Ghost, Castro manages to introduce a
hesitant timidity to her interpretation. The right-in-yo-face sass in Odas lines are all tartly there, but
Castros snap is less raucous. Even if more brass in her portrayal would have made for a stronger,
feistier psychic, Castros personal touch still does transformative wonders for her in this production. In
Castros portrayal, a new, less sucker-punching Oda Mae took to the stage: a burned-out diamond in the
rough and a hesitant con-artist on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
The chemistry between Villoncos Molly and Bautistas Sam - slightly teetering towards the awkward in
their only love scene - seems to wander aimlessly like a phantom, most notably during the first half. It is
amusing to note however that the chemistry seems to find stronger and more natural footing during the
second half, ironically, after Sams death and with more intrusions by Oda Mae. With Odas psychic
intercession, the chemistry seems to elevate to a grittier, more sensual level. Although socially
unconventional, the awkward Castro-Bautista-Villonco triangle may indeed have the only chemistry that
really works to the advantage of this production, and just might be THE one theoretical threesome that
could actually work.
The minimalist elements of the set design allow the stage plenty of room to breathe, giving it an
opened-up, almost come hither vibe. The novelty of projecting New York landscapes onto the pristine
white of the stages backdrop would appear to be ideal in theory location changes and transitions
would become quicker and more economical - in the long run however, it plainly dulls what should be a
more vibrant-than-life entertainment experience. The projected images are too prosaic and gives off a
depleted and detached one-dimensional feel, giving the slight impression that the show relies perhaps a
little too much on technology than on technical ingenuity.
In a story that explores the standstill gulf between life and death, stage lighting would be expected to do
most of the heavy lifting in creating illusions of almost magical proportions plunging the world of the
stage - and even the entire theater if need be - into a phantasmagoric (the term is used an homage to
the master of macabre, Edgar Allan Poes ghost story The Fall of the House of Usher) vortex of mystery
bordering on reverential horror. The blue lighting on Sams ghost, does manage a trick or two, but in
scenes of what should be a powerhouse number featuring the full cast ensemble in the song More in
the first half, the lighting diminishes the overall appeal of what is supposed to be the showcase for the
ensemble--- shying them into the backdrop, a collective countenance of shadowed figures, and
indistinguishable expressions in robotic choreography. Coupled with this glitch in lighting is the bizarre
distraction brought on by the blaring sound effects that at times are just too grating to the ears,
prompting one to dazedly look around asking what just happened?
Of all the nineteen songs in its repertoire, most of which just seemingly drifting along and going over
ones head, there is one standout song which manages to sink itself in with its weight of powerfully
gripping melody and painfully, almost brutally honest words. Mollys plaintive, confessional and
conversational With You is powerful in its pain as the most vulnerable showcase of what the entire
musical is really all about (minus the hoopla of technical theatrics and Illusions, blaringly distracting
sound effects, and supernatural premise) --- the naked heartbreak of a tragically lost love. Instead of the
repertoire banking too much on the popularity of Unchained Melody, adding a With You reprise
would have made for an even better and memorable investment. In a recent interview, Villonco admits
to deliberately staying away from any point of reference that might influence her interpretation of the
song. Taking a bold risk in her decision not to watch other actors in the role, she manages to gracefully
and masterfully hit the mark. Oda Mae Browns Im Outta Here plays perfect dramatic foil to Mollys
gut-wrenching With You. The seemingly Dreamgirls-inspired number features Oda Mae Browns living
large daydream sequence, and becomes the defining showcase for Ima Castros impressive riffs, vocal
range, and versatility as a pop vocalist. In this number, the splash of dancing stage colors and Odas
name in bright and moving lights finally give the ensemble the right spotlight and exposure.
In what seems to be a high-risk artistic gamble - taking on a show widely panned by critics in its first
production in 2011 in the United Kingdom - Director Bobby Garcia makes do with an impressively bold
effort to tell a story peppered mostly with songs that contain restrained and bland storytelling with lines
too cutesy that they may be considered mere platitudes for the contemporary hopeless romantic.
Garcias seamless direction incorporates a cohesive marriage between a methodical stage consciousness
and an alert, focused compassion for the show - setting off the smooth sailing of a steady and
unassumingly graceful choreography in an unobtrusive parade of stage blockings; quick costume
changes, and other pivotal transition elements. With a book and music and lyrics often speckled with
formulaic, almost pubescent romantic clichs, the rigor of this productions stage discipline is a welcome
stark contrast. This is the shared strength which the cast and production crew is fully aware of and uses
perfectly to their advantage. The heart of the Philippine production of Ghost does not rely solely on
whether the chemistry between the two leads are melting point-hot or in a premature simmer, but also
(and gladly) on the undeliberate, courageous compassion and loving attention that the entire cast and
crew has lavished on the show throughout its production- and in a theater as intimate as the Carlos P.
Romulo auditorium, this is undoubtedly the strongest kinetic force (stronger than any supernatural blast
from any poltergeist) that draws the audiences in, keeps them in their seats, and pushes them to
believe.