Playwright: Short stories by Bienvenido Santos, adapted for the stage by Larry Leopoldo
At: Pintig Cultural Group at the Chicago Cultural Center, 77. E. Randolph
Contact: ( 773 ) 973-1521
Runs: Through June 18
The exquisite short stories of Manila-born writer Bienvenido Santos are a rich mix of melancholy and optimism, the two often combining in tales of people far from home.
While Santos' stories are often specific to Filipino immigrants, they are imbued with universal relevance. Anyone who has struggled to adapt to a new life or a new home; anyone who has felt themselves to be an obvious Other stuck in a teeming crowd where everyone else fits in—in short, anyone —should be able to see the beauty, the sharp wit and the poignancy in Santos' stories.
In 'The Scent of Apples,' the Pintig Cultural Group ( which takes its name from the Filipino word for 'pulse,' or 'heartbeat' ) achieves mediocre results in staging three of Santos' short stories. Directed by Narciso Lobo, none of the one-acts captures the powerful emotional undercurrents that form the foundation of each story.
Larry Leopoldo's adaptations of Santos' work play out as slaphappy, crude sitcoms ( 'Immigration Blues' ) and tepid memories ( 'The Scent of Apples' ) . In 'The Day the Dancers Came,' clumsy shifts in time and recorded voiceovers make the piece confusing and effectively eclipse the themes that Santos delves.
The best of the three is title piece. 'The Scent of Apples' focuses on the rigid, uncompromising passage of time, and the changes it brings whether one is around to see them or not. That cruelly impersonal fact comes to the fore as a farmer who fled the Philippines for the United States reminisces about his long-gone homeland, 'a place in time that did not exist except in his own heart.'
The sense of a past and a heritage so distant they have seemed to exist only as wisps of dreams is almost palpable in the words of 'The Scent of Apples.' But the delivery of those words is hesitant and noncommittal—you have to listen hard to catch the meaning.
'The Day the Dancers Came' deals with Filemon and Tony, roommates and Filipino immigrants. As they await the arrival of a Filipino children's troupe of singers and dancers, Filemon elatedly obsesses about getting their voices on tape while Tony lies dying of cancer. The ideas here are intriguing, especially Filemon's desperate need to have a piece of his culture in a form he can hold in his hand and replay at will. 'These could have been my children if I had not left home,' he says of the traveling troupe, and while the words provide an inconsolable sense, they aren't offered with any deep emotion.
Finally, there's 'Immigration Blues,' which depicts the extremes two Filipino women are willing to go in order to stay in the United States. As in the other pieces, themes of exile and loss predominate. A critical, sexuality based twist arrives toward the close of 'Immigration Blues,' and it is here that director Lobo makes his biggest mistake of the evening. The unexpected revelation is played wholly for laughs, and while there's no denying the comedic elements to 'Immigration Blues,' the way they're played here completely drowns out the story's essential pathos.
