The Long Reflection of a Daft and Dewy-eyed Dope: Cinderella (Broadway Asia)

It was just January when we decided to get tickets for the Broadway Asia Tour of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. It was so long ago, that until about recently, I had forgotten the exact date and time of our show. Upon checking my planner and reopening the ticket envelope last week, I was pleasantly surprised that my choice of date was actually the opening weekend (meaning I can write about it early on and even had the option of seeing it a second time). Thank God for obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

For our matinee show, I arrived quite early— 1:30pm, just to be sure rains, floods, and cars competing for parking didn’t delay me. I sat in my favorite spot in the TAT lobby (the bench under the side staircase) and waited for my aunt, who was watching along with me.

Slowly, families and even students started coming in droves. I had never seen so many kids at the CCP before that afternoon. The image suddenly made me think. Among all the families that can afford to go to the theater, how many will actually take their children to go see a play or a musical? And for that matter, how young did I start seeing shows like these?

Those closest to me will know I’ve been obsessed with going to the theater for quite some time. I have the Aunt I was waiting for to thank for that. When I was younger, Auntie Nette was the vanguard of everything “high culture” in the family. (( I would later start to think that theater is not “high culture” and distinctions about “levels” of art really shouldn’t be made. But let’s leave that for another blog entry.)) I was just six when she’d take me to museums and art galleries. I’d be fascinated by old artifacts and gigantic paintings and how excited all these made her. She would talk about this Filipino artist and that national treasure and I would listen eagerly. My early forays into museums and the countless books I read about them in my youth were probably the reasons why I wanted to be an archaeologist or historian as a kid.

Then she and my mom would introduce me to theatrical productions. I recall they would go and take me to the open-air plays in Intramuros. I vaguely remember the shows (which I had a feeling were aimed at children) but I do have hazy memories of viewing colorful lights on dancing people while I played around on the grass near the walls. Then there were the traditional Christmas trips to the Araneta Coliseum to go and see Disney’s Holiday on Ice, a more enjoyable “theatrical” trip for me then. (My starkest memories were Donald Duck’s 50th Birthday and the Disney Adventures show, hehe.)

Since Auntie Nette lived with us, I’d be exposed constantly to her show tunes and noble attempts in singing Broadway classics. She would buzz about a certain Lea Salonga and how great the young lady was. You can only imagine her excitement in 1989 (I was five) when the young Salonga was catapulted to stardom in Miss Saigon. The fandom became an obsession for her: anything “Lea Salonga” was golden ever since. Her eyes would glisten with pride whenever she’d hear stories about Lea—aakalain mo, kamag-anak niya. She’d later take pride in saying she’s seen Lea in different concerts and all her local musicals. It was this art and Lea-crazed Aunt of mine that filled my days with stories of the theater and Filipinos excelling in the field.

What I felt really drew me to like theatrical productions, though, were shows of Repertory Philippines. These, I distinctly remember. I was eight when we saw a production of Aladdin and about a year later, their staging of The Wiz. The Wiz did it for me: the hip R&B attack on a beloved classic, the powerful chorus, the endearing characters, the ingenious staging. Though the term “suspension of disbelief” was not yet in my vocabulary, I totally took in the new worlds that the theater presented to me. For about an hour and a half, what was before me was totally real. Even then, I had a great respect for the people who would take the time to memorize lines and tell us the most wonderful stories, for those who would think of sets that had surprises in store, for those who would sing and hit the high notes live. I can honestly say my love affair with theater began then.

Being an only child and the eldest among all cousins, I was the one easily “dragged” by my Aunt to different productions. I didn’t mind the dragging and, in time, was even the one begging my family to take me to see different shows. Of course we couldn’t see everything I wanted since the shows cost a lot of money. I would count on special occasions like my birthday, Christmas, or the occasional “First Honors” award to coax them into taking me to the theater.

Even though I knew my exposure to plays was better than most in those times, I still felt deprived of some shows as a child. There were so many things to watch, yet so little time and money. (Thus explaining why upon graduating, a certain portion of my salary and time was allocated to plays for the year.) Being in the theater simply engaged my senses, disturbed me, made me think, comforted me, tested my sensibilities, questioned my knowledge, extended my horizons, opened my mind.

Flash forward to now, back at the CCP. It’s suddenly 2:30 and Auntie Nette, the Lea überfan, has already arrived.


A Lovely Show

A little girl of about six and her mom sat beside us in the theater. The mom engaged us in a conversation and said that her daughter already saw Rep’s Cinderella and some Disney Jr. shows recently but didn’t enjoy them that much. Picky little girl, I thought. Sharpening the critic within early on— great! Hahaha! We assured her that this was going to be really magical. The outspoken little girl thought she’d be seeing the same thing, but we said this one was different from the Disney version she had already seen.

I’ve seen two versions of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella already and so I was expecting a lot that afternoon. I was a high school freshman when I saw the 1997 ABC remake in the house of another theater-buff, my friend Ernest. (This guy’s more obsessed than I am and has the bucks to back the theater obsession.) The version especially caught my fancy for three reasons: (1) A Filipino, Paolo Montalban, played the prince, (2) The music was interesting and different from the Disney Cinderella I was familiar with, and (3) The star-studded “rainbow” casting.


Big names of theater and film were in the production. I was also amused that Mendelian Genetic principles were violated: Caucasian Victor Garber was the king, African American Whoopee Goldberg was the queen, and an Asian Montalban was the prince. Cinderella was played by Brandy and the Fairy Godmother was by an over-the-top Whitney Houston, who donned a gown studded with real jewels worth thousands of dollars. Her signature vocal calisthenics (ie. kulot and hagod) in Impossible and There is Music in You were so her that my image of the Fairy Godmother was forever changed.

Recently, I watched the 1957 Julie Andrews version another friend gave me. The special release DVD version was complete with an intro by the Dame herself, the Ed Sullivan appearance of Rodgers and Hammerstein, and a Making of Cinderella featurette. Julie Andrews was as elegant as ever as the maiden. Seriously, while singing in a British accent, even a maltreated housemaid becomes a queen. What amazed me further was the fact that everything was done LIVE. Sure, the effects were questionable, but one couldn’t discount the real talent of the people in that historical television production.


I hoped what I was about to see that afternoon in CCP could top my previous Cinderella encounters.


The sweet invention of a dream or as wonderful as it seems?

When the lights began to dim, I started to get excited— not really for myself, but for all the little kids in the theater that afternoon. Call it weird or impossible, but I could feel the collective rush the people around me were feeling as the orchestra played the first notes. The little oohs and aahs of the kids, the mini-claps, the leans forward. I thought— that was me not so long ago!

My verdict after the show: this Cinderella did not disappoint. Lea owned this show and gave a fresh version even surpassing the existing ones. There was no question about her vocal prowess at all. This was probably the best version I’ve heard and, mind you, I’ve gone through all recordings thoroughly. Her attack on the singing and the character was somewhere between Brandy’s frail desperation and Andrews’ elegance. Her Cinderella was miserable and downtrodden when she needed to be and hopeful, dainty, and graceful when called for. Although I expected her Cinderella to be more “palaban,” I guess you really can’t stretch the role too much. For what one can squeeze out of the character, Lea was able to give it as much depth as possible.


The Fairy Godmother (Charlie Parker) started out strong with her introduction and duet in “The Sweetest Sounds”, but seemed to lose her momentum in the middle. By the time they were singing “Impossible,” there was some oomph missing from the powerful godmother, especially next to a giddy Cinderella. I couldn’t help but remember the original performance by lovable Edith Adams and Whitney’s quirky fairy godmotha’. Blame the latter’s over-excited “Impossible” for my expectations.

The Stepmother and Stepsisters (Julia Cook, Jen Bechter, and Brandy Zarle) were tremendous characters onstage; as well they should be if they were to match Bernadette Peters, Veanne Cox, and Natalie Desselle, who gave memorable performances in the widely-released ABC version. I personally would have wanted them to be more evil towards Cinderella and more aggressive towards the prince, but the performances were funny and notable enough.

Peter Saide had a soothing voice and a stature fit for a prince. (The height difference between Salonga and Saide was not too obvious nor disturbing for me.) For the duration of the play, he nailed the part of the love-crazed fool. More desperate and needy than earlier versions, this new prince was annoying and yet authentic— there was something in the combination that just worked.

As he started his search for Cinderella, I felt that his overly-saccharine view of love and his reasons for searching for the girl were trivial and exaggerated. But as I watched along, I got that that WAS him. He was the one that represented the unquestioning love that just hit you and changed you forever. Thus in the course of watching, our jaded adult selves got used to this love-starved man and began to enjoy his search for the girl of his dreams.

The King and Queen (Jefferson Slinkard and Jann Cardia) were a pleasure to watch. These injected comedy and romance at all the right moments. The other members of the company were also notable for their movement and enthusiasm, but I felt these could take it a notch higher in intensity when it came to singing and delivering lines.

The set was a mix of hits and misses for me. I loved the pumpkin scene and Cinderella’s house: really well-crafted and provided for creative blocking as well. The palace scenes left much to be desired, though. The walls, staircase, chandelier, and faux trees looked like hand-painted styrofoam. For a multi-million peso production, I expected something more intricate. It was just odd that Cinderella’s home with the Art Nouveau feel looked pricier than the royal palace.


Costumes, on the other hand, were great. Cinderella’s gowns were elegant, but the most memorable were the ensembles of the Stepfamily. The colors and shapes of these ladies’ clothes just popped out— like a cartoon brought to life before one’s eyes.

The most important facet of all, the music, was pure bliss. I’ve loved the old material, but with this new recording, I feel I’ll be humming the tunes to myself again for quite some time. The material is simply classic Rodgers: the romantic waltzes, the musical lines (as Jullie Andrews would describe it herself) starting in major then going into minor and ending in major resolutions, the solos and ballads that didn’t rely on belting and yet hit the point.

The lyrics are marked with Hammerstein’s genius. Possibly everyone’s “sigh moment”:

Do I love you because you’re beautiful?
Or are you beautiful because I love you?
Do I want you because you’re wonderful?
Or are you wonderful because I want you?
Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream?
Or are you really as beautiful as you seem?

Even the notion of hope becomes catchy and memorable:

For the world is full of zanies and fools
Who won’t believe in sensible rules
And don’t believe what sensible people say
And because these daft and dewy-eyed dopes
Keep building up impossible hopes
Impossible things are happening everyday

The hype for this production was incredible. Although, personally, it did not soar in all aspects, it was still a satisfying theatrical experience over-all. I had misgivings, but sitting back as the play ended, the magical feeling of the show was still there. In the end, wasn’t that what mattered? If just for Lea and the music, the money I shelled out for this show was well-spent.


Now you’re living. There’s music in you.

I was glad to see that the little girl that sat beside us was smiling afterwards. She seemed excited and even asked about the Cinderella book (the programme) I was reading. We told her mom it was a nice and cheap souvenir and I think they eventually got one. Hopefully more young theater-lovers were born that afternoon. I couldn’t help but be happy seeing the kids leaving the CCP humming the songs, buying the plush rat toys and tiaras, and wearing toothy grins on their faces.

Back to reality for us. And maybe even Cinderella and her Prince. I couldn’t see a Cinderella story and not recall the other Cinderella presented in Into the Woods (aka. The true “after” in “happily ever after.”) The happily ever after happens only in storybooks we can close. The work does not end with the crazed lover finding his soulmate. In the Sondheim musical, with characters based on the grim Germanic version of Aschenputtel, reality sets in as Cinderella becomes restless in the castle and the Prince starts to covet Sleeping Beauty. That of course is another musical that I do hope these kids will get to see someday. Another story, another lesson, another adventure. Even adults need their own cautionary tales so thank God for Lapine and Sondheim.

For the moment, though, it was nice to be a kid again. To get lost in the little corners of our imaginations. To surrender to the reality that impossible things are really happening everyday. To know that there is a love waiting for us to seek it—crazily and without restraint.

Auntie Nette just finished buying a bag-full of Lea Salonga CD’s and DVDS in the lobby. We exited the theater and I began to hum the songs to myself, smiling.

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Cinderella runs at the CCP until August 24 with shows from Tuesday to Sunday at 8pm and matinees on Saturdays and Sundays. Bring your friends and family and let the kids (and the kids at heart) experience the magic of theater!

For those who’ve brought their kids to see Cinderella, take them in September-October to PETA’s back-to-back staging of Mga Kuwento ni Lola Basyang and Batang Rizal (both by Christine Bellen). That will surely be another magical and educational experience.

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Cinderella Fun facts (From the souvenir programme, the Julie Andrews DVD, and my German studies know-how)

*The 1957 version starring Julie Andrews was a one-night-only live production by CBS. An initial look makes one think it’s seamless. The prince actually made a mistake and sang over the queen in the “Do I love you” reprise. They just cut from the queen’s close-up and returned to the prince. The viewing was an unprecedented high: about 110 million people tuned in to the show: roughly 65% of the US population.

• The Disney and Rodgers/Hammerstein version is based on the French version by Charles Perrault in his Tales of Mother Goose. The German version is called Aschenputtel, one of the folktales collected by the Brothers Grimm. This story was the one used in Sondheim’s Into the Woods. The story’s end is darker than the Perrault version. In this version, the ball lasts for three days and Aschenputtel attends each night only to leave the prince earlier than expected. The smart prince smears pitch onto the castle steps on the third night to trap his princess as she attempts to escape. (Smarter prince, right?)


Here too, the end is darker. The first stepsister cuts her heel to fit into the GOLDEN slipper. As the prince carries her away, a bird calls his attention to the bloody shoe (Imagine if the shoe were made of glass… Kaya malamang golden, haha.) He leaves the first sister and he returns to Cinderella’s place. The second sister cuts of a toe to fit in the shoe. The prince carries her away but another bird makes him see the bloody shoe. He returns and, of course, Aschenputtel fits into the shoe. The birds eventually blind the mother and sisters for their cruelty and deceit.

The sweetest sounds

Not familiar with any of the earlier versions? Listen to the following sets. Do you share my feeling that Lea’s Cinderella stands out?

For each version, you’ll only hear very brief parts (No more than 20 seconds, so buy the album!!!) For every song, you’ll hear Julie Andews first (1957), Brandy next (1997), and Lea Salonga last (2008).

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*Images used in this post are from Ticketworld Philippines, The Original Cast Recording, and the Souvenir Programme

DPP.5 August 2008