Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4: Oh Shit, It’s Brilliant

Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4 uses the same stent as the three previous installments of the saga. Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 1, a Cinemalaya film, is a satire on independent filmmaking. The sequel, Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 2: ForeverIsNotEnough, pokes fun at mainstream cinema. The third iteration, Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 3: The Real Untold Story of Josephine Bracken, is a seven-part mockumentary that playfully but painfully jabs at historical revisionism in mainstream media. Part 4 follows the same satirical path, but this time that path, that stent leads to the heart of…Oh Sh*t! It’s Live Sa Cheter!

Eugene Domingo still adroitly plays the fictionalized, demanding, and incredulous Eugene Domingo who will stop at nothing to bring her vision to life — however absurd that may be. That vision, in this instance, is a modern, transmogrified adaptation of Aurelio Tolentino’s nationalistic and seditious play, Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas, where she will play Inang Bayan.

Marlon Rivera, who directed the first three Septic Tank releases, is part of the cast in the fourth, playing an exaggerated version of his meticulously creative self. The adaptation of Tolentino’s masterpiece is, of course, a PETA production, with Melvin Lee as the producer. 

Here, Andoy Ranay, who is also popularly known as a highly accomplished director of quite a few TV dramas, parks his director’s chair, replacing it with acting chops to portray a flamboyantly gay and skin-bearing version of himself as part of the cast of the theater production envisioned by Eugene. 

Stella Canete-Mendoza is ever the passionate and dedicated thespian who takes on a role with all the conviction she can muster. Meann Espinosa plays Eugene’s girl Friday, who pushes to deliver every request of her master, even assembling a small colony of street thugs called “The Ugenggengs” in an attempt to rehabilitate them and transform them into theater actors. 

These thug-actors form the ensemble, which includes Kiki Baento, Carlon Matobato, Roi Calilong, James Lanante, Nyla Festejo, Ron Alfonso, Air Paz, Pia Viola, and Mico Esquivel. Each thug has a distinct personality that shines through every arm sweep, facial contortion, and squint of an eye.

Multi-awarded playwright Joshua Lim-So plays a disgruntled version of himself who agrees to be the writer for the modernized Kahapon, Ngayon at Bukas when Rody Vera supposedly declines the assignment. And then there’s JC Santos, whose roots in theater span over a decade, but who, over the years, has established a strong footing as an actor in mainstream Philippine cinema — wearing his stage-actor hat and even putting on his dancing shoes for his most versatile, endearing, and entertaining theater performance to date. 

All the characters move around in circles and in irregular shapes to try to comply with the whims of an insufferable Eugene Domingo, who, as in previous Septic Tank installments, wants to be the brightest star of the show. Principles are sacrificed. Boundaries are crossed. Canon text disintegrates into farce. Comedic timing is on the dot. 

Absurdity at its finest

In theater, acting needs to be bigger, exacting, more pronounced. There are no cuts, no edits — only a 15-minute bio-break in between acts.

The cast delivered exactly that, and their magnanimous performances could not have been downsized, even if they tried. The material demands no less, and for the fourth time, Chris Martinez has delivered a script that, with the help of director Maribel Legarda, forces every cast member to deliver exceptionally, but even more generously, to magnify satirical elements and increase the level of absurdity for a discerning, expectant live audience. 

The cast moved around in circles, alright, deftly and quite seamlessly on a dynamic, well-engineered set amidst swift, well-orchestrated set changes. The show cleverly made use of digital media to provide context and visualize what would have been lengthy dissertations. 

No laughing matter

The play is deliberate in speaking about — and sometimes against — the many adjustments and challenges theater productions must comply and contend with just to remain relevant and win an audience. No ambiguity, raw and unfiltered. 

Must it always be a musical? Must there always be nudity involved? Can’t straight plays thrive anymore? Must the integrity of the material be sacrificed in favor of views and virality? These are but a few of the questions raised. And while Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4 pokes fun at the fact that the majority of the productions that become successful nowadays are the ones that have musical numbers integrated in almost every scene, it does use plenty of music, but rightfully so. 

The incidental music successfully sets the mood and bridges scene changes. The source music serves every dedicated purpose. And the showtunes are craftily executed, bestowing the intended entertainment value.

Because the concept of play is essentially a theater production within a theater production, having a live audience naturally folded into the narrative — with certain characters performing not only on stage but also in certain wings of the theater and the real audience inevitably finding itself integrated into certain scenes. 

It doesn’t stop at that. It goes so far as to raise questions about the intentions of today’s theater patrons. Do people still watch plays in sheer appreciation of the craft? Or do they patronize shows for performative purposes? Why do people now raise their phones — and not their hands in roaring applause — during a standing ovation?

Is it for everyone?

Some might argue that Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4 isn’t for everyone. That it might not be exactly for the elite who are more accustomed to canned international productions, and neither is it ideal for the hoi polloi who have no prior context of Philippine theater. Some punch lines tend to be relatable only if you have a nuanced understanding of how that world works. And some might not completely get it. 

But that’s just the point. This play blesses anyone with the opportunity to discover and understand. To feel the joy and acknowledge the ills within the local theater scene. And to find genuine desire and pleasure in supporting it. 

Moreover, the issues and questions raised aren’t exclusively theater-bound. The same problems plague other creative fields and hound other struggling creatives. And in that sense, such concerns become societal and accessible. 

But don’t let the hard-earned lessons or profound realizations deter you from exploring what Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4: Oh Sh*t! It’s Live Sa Chester! outlandishly and ultimately offers. While it may be insightful, at its core, it is a wildly entertaining and spectacular production driven by a shrewdly written narrative and unrelenting performances from a powerhouse cast in acts that will either ignite, rekindle, or amplify your love for theater, and leave your jaw locked and hanging until you reach the sordid yet humorous ending nothing could have prepared you for. 

Tickets are still available via TicketWorld at bit.ly/SepticTank4Tickets and through Showbuyers at bit.ly/SepticTank4Showbuyers.

For more information and updates, follow @petatheater on social media.

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