How does one write a disco pop opera about the life of Imelda Marcos, former Philippine first lady, and de facto dictator for over a decade?
That’s exactly the question that Grammy award-winning artists David Byrne and Fatboy Slim set out to answer in their fresh new musical Here Lies Love. Though the weather outside was drizzly and gloomy, the inside of the Broadway Theatre on 53rd street. Walking in from the forming grey clouds outside into a bright, neon-decorated and vaguely foggy foyer of the theater, my spirits were instantly lifted. Upon spying the bar and hearing Kim Petras bumping in my ear, I asked myself if it would be improper to not get a drink, and promptly ordered a double white wine. I sank into my seat in laser-laden atrium, and immediately found myself staring at the crowd gathered on the large dance floor flanking both sides of the platforms in front of main stage. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and instead of the traditional hush that usually falls over a Broadway crowd, a wild cheer emerged as gobos and fog machines sprang to life. The ecstatic DJ welcomed us to Club Manila, transporting us through time to the end of WWII and the beginning of Imelda.
Suffice to say, this isn’t your mother’s Broadway show – it’s something much wilder, more playful than the recent revival of Parade, and fresher than Chicago, despite its rotating heavy-hitters. It’s a newer take on the historic musical, and despite dealing with serious topics (which it gives appropriate breath and credence to), it balances weight and candor with style and fantasy. It accentuates Imelda’s glamour through Vogue-like photoshoots and, using a variety of mediums, immerses the audience, wrapped around the stage across multiple levels, into the rapidly beating heart at the center of the show. It is impossible to not find oneself engrossed by the spectacle that the creators have designed.
To recant the plot of Here Lies Love would not go much further than to regurgitate Imelda’s Wikipedia page, but while the facts remain interminably fixed, the performances are alive. The cast, spearheaded by trio tour-de-force Arielle Jacobs (Imelda), Jose Llana (Marcos), and Conrad Ricamora (Ninoy Aquino), put everything they have into every note. The music is loud, the lights are bright, and the stars shine. It is a quintessential Broadway extravaganza, paired with a signature score that wormed its way into my ear long after the pomp and circumstance were gone. It’s hard to imagine that the show, packed with star power on and off the stage, would be anything but fantastic, but it is affirming then when the show meets the expectations of the audience.
As for the substance buried within the spectacle: the show takes on themes of fascism, egoistic politicians, and the dangers of the corrupted state head-on, but with no heavy-handedness that one can usually expect in the post-Trump era. With alt right movements on the rise around the world, and the return of a Marcos to the Filipino presidency last year, the message is clear, but Here Lies Love makes its coda short and sweet: listen, be vigilant, and find strength in numbers. The club is closed, the partygoers have returned home, and we close on the masses, singing, in unison, a protest song from the day that the public stormed Malacañang Palace and took back their country. Tears well, fall, and the show is complete.
And thus, the question remains: how does one write a disco pop opera about the life of Imelda Marcos, former Philippine first lady, and de facto dictator for over a decade? You do it with heart, soul, and a blood-rushing, heart-thumping, star-studded soundtrack for the ages.
Here Lies Love opened June 17 the Broadway Theater in Manhattan. Information can be found at herelieslovebroadway.com. Running time is approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes.
