And the rest is HERstory…
By: Jareliese Mauro
Febuary 17, 2008--It’s called a “Pooki” in NY, a “Schmende” in the Bronx, and “Bingkang pinaliki” in Mandaue City. It even has a slang variation: talivava and the forty thieves.
Over 1,0000 come to see what the fuss is about in SM cinema 2, of what Crystal Cavalier Theatre Productions has to offer: a benefit performance of playwright and award-winning author, Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues.
Febuary 17, 2008--It’s called a “Pooki” in NY, a “Schmende” in the Bronx, and “Bingkang pinaliki” in Mandaue City. It even has a slang variation: talivava and the forty thieves.
Over 1,0000 come to see what the fuss is about in SM cinema 2, of what Crystal Cavalier Theatre Productions has to offer: a benefit performance of playwright and award-winning author, Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues.
“There’s so much darkness and secrecy surrounding them—like the Bermuda triangle—nobody every reports back from there.”
Like the pink elephant in the room we pay no heed to, the female tool (It-which-must-not-be-named) is being heralded in this liberating stand-up comedy/psychotherapy/awareness theater, challenging the audience by making them say the word “Vagina,” out loud and proud. Piercing into essence of the woman, her experiences and sexuality: the horror and bliss of it all; the Monologues, surprisingly cooks up a dish of social advocacy, delicately peppered with feminism, tasty enough, leaving the audience—both men and women—satisfied. More than just a girl’s night out, the show centralizes on intimate topics, in a lecture type of tone, but still stays professional and contained. With jabs of humor and clever, localized script, the taboo subject matters are delivered with finesse. The cast pulls off a shocker and gets away with it (with all that said, it may still be too much for the prude).
Vanessa Ammann performs “Hair” with emotional color while Cherie Lou Mendoza paints a picture of a woman who hasn’t been “down there” since 1953 explaining that when she gets excited, a flood pours smelling like sour milk (“The Flood”). Rhea Fantoñial-Bautista leaves nothing to the imagination when she describes how “The Vagina Workshop” runs, followed by a reminiscing of Bob, the connoisseur of vaginas, as being staged by Lera Lumactod (“Because he Liked to Look at It”).
Sarabeth Sarita waves the red flag to the polite society by suggesting to install a French tickler in soft cotton panties in “My Angry Vagina” whereas Heather Guilas-Cordova and Queenie Razonable make a sweeping message by telling a heart-wrenching story of rape victims from Bosnia and Kosovo. Maki Gingoyon has an estimable clutch of tone and takes on enveloping the feeling of going through an operation and waking up with a vagina in “Homespun.” Roy Olivares, Magda Visitacion, Eman Daan, and Jen Avellaneda have a gripping stage presence, seeming confident in revealing threads and hooker heels while rendering “Ang Pagbukbuk sa Babaye sa akong Pagkalalaki.” Describing how a vagina changes from a “shy sexual hole to an archeological tunnel, a sacred vessel, a Venetian canal, a deep well with a tiny stuck child inside, waiting to be rescued,” Tara Guillen draws emotions and awe with her story of witnessing childbirth, “I was There in the Room.” Sharing the spotlight and leading the pack are—the author of this article—and Micole Ybañez who manage the most technically taxing monologue, “The Woman who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy,” classifying 27 orgasmic expressions—from the tortured-zen moan to the uninhibited militant bisexual moan, ending the evening with a bang as the audience quaver in their seats with amusement.
Sarabeth Sarita waves the red flag to the polite society by suggesting to install a French tickler in soft cotton panties in “My Angry Vagina” whereas Heather Guilas-Cordova and Queenie Razonable make a sweeping message by telling a heart-wrenching story of rape victims from Bosnia and Kosovo. Maki Gingoyon has an estimable clutch of tone and takes on enveloping the feeling of going through an operation and waking up with a vagina in “Homespun.” Roy Olivares, Magda Visitacion, Eman Daan, and Jen Avellaneda have a gripping stage presence, seeming confident in revealing threads and hooker heels while rendering “Ang Pagbukbuk sa Babaye sa akong Pagkalalaki.” Describing how a vagina changes from a “shy sexual hole to an archeological tunnel, a sacred vessel, a Venetian canal, a deep well with a tiny stuck child inside, waiting to be rescued,” Tara Guillen draws emotions and awe with her story of witnessing childbirth, “I was There in the Room.” Sharing the spotlight and leading the pack are—the author of this article—and Micole Ybañez who manage the most technically taxing monologue, “The Woman who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy,” classifying 27 orgasmic expressions—from the tortured-zen moan to the uninhibited militant bisexual moan, ending the evening with a bang as the audience quaver in their seats with amusement.
White: the backdrop seems so bare with only flashes of red light forming a letter “V” after every monologue is presented. Black: the unifying color of the actresses’ outfit. From a spectator’s point of view, the visual presentation might seem simple but technical director, Brett Aleonar, and artistic director, Raymond Ordoño, want to achieve just that. The acting and message are powerful tools of communication which transcend over the weight of the costume and set. After all, one of the show’s ultimate goals is “to trigger far-reaching awareness by laying groundwork for educational and protective endeavors.”
The Vagina Monologues is the inspiration for the creation of V-day (vday.org), a global movement for women and girls to put a top to violence including rape, battery, incest, female genital mutilation and sexual slavery. Trough this eye-opening performance, it stands to be a catalyst for change by raising money and consciousness. If understanding were redefined as the ‘G-spot,’ the production has certainly reached climax.
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