Breadcrumbs lead to the set of “Bangaw,” the new musical production of FEU Theater Guild (FTG) for 2026. The reminders over the speaker sound like flight announcements, and the viewers walking to their seats are welcomed by a cosplaying flight stewardess. Furry masks heaped on a table behind her hint of danger. Inside the small theater, the stage has been transformed into an “island,” with real sand.
In writing “Bangaw,” Dudz Teraña and Gold Villar-Lim adapted the dark themes of William Golding’s “Lord of the Flies”—the inherent evil in humanity, civilization vs barbarism—and the plot of a planeload of prepubescent schoolboys crashing on a remote island and their struggle to survive. But Teraña and Villar-Lim reinterpreted the base material, keeping true to FTG’s mission of reimagining theater as a space for truth, provocation, and community.
Filipino narrative
“Bangaw” was set in the Philippines in the future, with war—“wars like [in] Gaza and Ukraine, which loom over us,” said FTG dramaturg Heleina Li—as the plot’s driving force.
Villar-Lim and Teraña designed the play with Filipino elements, starting with English and Filipino dialogues and a crash site somewhere in the Visayas. The original schoolboy survivors are now a bevy of girls and boys of varying social backgrounds, represented by what Villar-Lim called the “Morayta aura” of Tabeks (Jharelle Villalobos) and “the conyo vibe” of Raf (Sam Siasoyco).
Raf Diaz is the Filipino version of Golding’s Ralph. He’s conyo (or the wealthy, educated type) who speaks in fluent English and sounds irritating when speaking in Tagalog. Paralleling Raf are two schoolgirls who are naive, flighty, and bubbly, like how many high school kids are.
Conversely, the gay Tabeks, the Filipino counterpart of the British Piggy, embodies the Morayta aura. He’s flamboyant and sporty, leading everyone in a game of luksong tinik. Jack Ramirez (Aldin Covarrubias), Raf’s nemesis, is from the same side of the tracks as Tabeks except that he’s louder, masculine and in-your-face. But, unlike Tabeks, he loathes Raf and harbors an ambition of becoming the survivors’ leader.
The music’s fast-paced ethnic vibe and rap wars, and the ensemble’s exuberant performance are engaging. (At the subsequent TalkBack, we learned from Teraña that the heightened intensity of the rap and dance moves was intended to counter the sand’s muffling effect on the songs and dialogues.)
Raf vs Jack
The attention shifts to Raf and Jack’s leadership styles after the initial wonderment with the set design etc. wears off. Raf personifies civilized leadership; he is formally elected as leader and holds the conch shell—the symbol of democratic rule—much to the annoyance of Jack, who eventually usurps his position.
Siasoyco suits the role to a T with his open, boyish face characteristic of a kid from an elite high school. His demeanor combines youthful awkwardness and contrived coolness, and his language is exemplary conyo. He portrays Raf in the way society expects teenaged boys to be: bonhomous and well-mannered. His approach to leadership is democratic: Believing in the power of reason, he listens to everybody, as symbolized by his temporary handover of the conch shell to whoever wants to speak. He doesn’t resort to force and intimidation to maintain order in his turf.
Jack embodies barbaric leadership. He destroys the established order, ruling like a tyrant with unchecked brutality and violence. Covarrubias convincingly portrays Jack, who capitalizes on the height difference between him and Siasoyco to convey dominance. The brashness, forceful gestures and profanities further seal Jack’s character as threatening and despicable: He sows fear and paranoia, and violently deals with “dissidents.”
Eventually Jack comes across as báng-aw (Tagalog for “deranged”). When he and his minions return from a hunt bloodied and behaving maniacally, he appears to have transformed into a halimaw (read: inherently evil), as symbolized by his oblation of a boar’s severed head impaled on a stick, covered in filth and crawling with insects. He offers the boar’s head to the Lord of the Flies (aka Beelzebub or the Devil), signaling his descent into savagery and his rule over all.
(At the TalkBack, Covarrubias said Jack was not so much crazy as obsessed. In playing Jack, he said, he focused on the word “obsession” and looked to psychological thriller films—his favorite movie genre—to help shape his portrayal.)
Leadership
With Jack’s power grab, Teraña and Villar-Lim highlighted an important issue about leadership. (At the TalkBack, Villar-Lim underscored the importance of electing good leaders, and the audience responded with enthusiastic applause. Teraña said he saw “Bangaw” as “little Philippines”; he cautioned about the country’s fate “if we let other people influence us.”)
As leaders, Raf and Jack are only as good as their followers. Raf’s downfall is brought about by his age and inexperience in leading a big group. His naïveté leads him to think that everything would simply fall into place like night and day. He paves the way for Jack to seize power by not resisting when his authority is undermined, and by relying on Jack and his hunters for provisions.
Crucially, Jack’s authoritarian rule is portrayed as enabled by his dim-witted minions and gullible turncoats from Raf’s camp. His supporters let him get away with anything, including murder. He turns savage and lets the halimaw in him eclipse his sanity. (“Jack is the reason why there are wars” was how Li summed up his character at the TalkBack.)
Jack’s followers play a pivotal, dangerous role in the leader-follower dynamics. They let the halimaw overpower rhyme and reason, thus unleashing bedlam on the island. But they are caught in a catch-22 situation: They are assaulted if they disobey Jack, yet their acquiescence only emboldens his tyrannical ways that result in the death of others.
Raf’s supporters throw in their lot with him at the outset, making him responsible for their survival. But they quickly abandon him when things go awry and, without qualms, cross over to Jack’s side.
Parallels
If one is truly looking, there is no missing the parallels drawn by “Bangaw” and the issues that Filipinos continue to grapple with: democracy, political leadership, justice, equality and human rights, and the dangers of unlimited power.
That there was no curtain call at the end came as a surprise. The omission was intentional, Teraña said at the TalkBack, adding that a curtain call would have sat uneasily with the play’s finale. For closure, Teraña chose a collective “shake-off” of emotions at the interaction between cast and audience after the show.
This viewer came away thinking of how “Bangaw” underscores the significance of self-awareness and critical thinking in the society in which one lives, and the constant risks posed by apathy and indifference to wrongdoing.
“‘Bangaw’ is a mirror for the current generation,” Li said at the TalkBack. “If we don’t evaluate ourselves and our empathy, and let the halimaw in us rule, we will continue to be evil.”
Added Villar-Lim: “‘Bangaw’ is a cautionary tale. Being mothers, parents, and adults, we must safeguard the children. What’s the point of our children to live if the environment isn’t conducive for them to thrive?” CS
“Bangaw” runs at the FEU Center for the Arts Studio on March 12–14, 19–21, and 26–28, and on April 9–11, 16–18, and 23–25 starting at 6:30 p.m.
Tickets are at ₱100 for students of FEU (all branches); ₱200 for other students; ₱500 for regular guests; and ₱700 for VIPs. Connect via Facebook: Far Eastern University Theater Guild; Instagram and TikTok: @feutheaterguildofficial; or Twitter/X: @ftg1934.
