Aparador, in English, is a closet. A piece of furniture often used to store things, not hide them.
The PUP Sining-Lahi Polyrepertory’s 43rd theater season and The UP Repertory Company’s 52nd theater season make a powerful return with a thought-provoking show that brings Gio Potes’ short film Sunugin ang Aparador to stage.
This artistic collaboration unfolds on a black box theater through Jasper Villasis’ Ang Sweatshop, Ang Aparador, at Ang Pinakamatigas na Tsinelas sa Balat ng Lupa—a striking, reflective, and cathartic play, that serves as a testament to the cycles of violence and exploitation endured by the marginalized communities. Moreover, it also rekindles the power of individual healing through relationships, urging audiences to unite and start a collective effort toward social change.
Directed by Serena Magiliw, the show creates an atmosphere blending angst and calmness, featuring the story of two devastated queer individuals: Bettina, played by Kuina Suruiz and Lyric Alolor, and Jhong, portrayed by Markel Gamboa and Ace Hernandez. Their paths cross after the tragedy at the local slipper factory where Jhong works.
Ang Aparador
The story unfolds in the character’s house which is made from patched lumber and has a piece of the roof, with a closet placed in the middle of the room. Together, Jhong and Bettina contemplate and recollect their past, each trapped in their own forms of confinement in the closet—Jhong in a profit-driven and oppressive workplace, while Bettina, a beautician and openly identifies as a queer, in her conservative religious household.
“Nandiyan na ang mga pulis! Magtago ka!”—pan to closet. This time, it no longer serves as a piece of furniture to store clothes, it became a hiding place from the big bad wolves. Panting, praying, and hoping they won't huff that shelter down. Jhong, holding his breath desperately; his significant other leading the police the other way so he won't get found.
The closet becomes a symbol of oppression—a space where your superiors shove you in, keeping you there “for good” and seeing you only as a machine, nothing more than a worker.
The closet has been the witness to countless struggles. From being a mere storage for clothes to concealing your identity, up to keeping you safe. Realizing its function in your life, the question arises: Do you want to burn this closet away or keep it for good?
The moral dilemma around this furniture that swirled into a metaphor throughout the whole play gets your gears turning, making you think and think and think. Think about those poor workers who were burned alive in that factory due to owners who ignored the safety of their own employees, letting everything be engulfed by the scorching heat.
Ang Tsinelas
The irony is palpable: the most comfortable, sturdiest slippers—symbols of ease and security—are made by workers who face economic hardship. Just imagine producing over hundreds, maybe even thousands, of slippers in a day just to be paid less than the value of the work you did. This stark contrast highlights the systemic injustice that enables such exploitation to continue.
Jhong's factory was a sweatshop, with low wages, poor treatment, and unsanitary conditions. Later in the play, the term "sweatshop" became more literal, referring to the intense heat and physical exertion caused by the factory fire.
One Closet: Two Stories
What's unique about this play is how the creator and director were able to connect the two main characters—Bettina and Jhong—despite their few similarities. Both characters, though in vastly different situations, have shared the experience of being forced to hide in a closet.
Bettina was put inside a closet by her father, likely due to his disapproval of her identity. Jhong, on the other hand, sought refuge in a closet to evade police who were targeting him for advocating for marginalized and exploited individuals. While their situations differ, both characters emphasize the danger and risk associated with actions that are simply unusual or controversial.
Bettina and Jhong are symbols of Filipinos, portraying the strong resilience we have despite facing calamities and life challenges.The same resilience that is abused and exploited time and time again.
Filipinos who are still fighting for their own rights in their own country; for the bare minimum in their workplaces that they need to fight for. Filipinos whose families are put in danger because of greedy politicians who refuse to grant them the justice they were promised. Promises that have become empty, mere statements, which secured them their desired seats in the government.
The Production
In the critical sense, everything was in tip-top shape. The lighting was impressive, particularly in the scene where Jhong retells the story of how the local factory he worked at burned down. The costume design was simple, yet it speaks volumes to the audience, showcasing the classic pambahay style with a little sprinkle of flair.
The actors had an electrifying chemistry, delivered by a compelling performance, and effectively emanated the characters’ lives on stage that would leave you awestruck and wanting for more. Their banters between their dialogues felt so casual—that you, the audience, may also feel as if you were in the play itself. The unexpected fourth wall breaks, audience interaction here and there were greatly appreciated, as the opportunity to hold one of the props Bettina used in a scene was a core memory.
The production achieved a convincing performance: from the adaptation, directing, acting, and dramaturgy to the lights, sound, production design, costume, and visuals. All of these elements harmoniously complemented each other, resulting in a powerful performance that is timely and relevant to society.
The play brings Gio Potes’ Sunugin ang Aparador to life onstage, weaving together all the elements in the show, including the script, tone, mood, and message, with the exception of added comedic elements and the actor’s dramatization of characters. The play introduces new flavors to Potes’ short film that creates a more visual story. However, the show tends to focus on and absorb the storytelling techniques of the film version, resulting in some parts being narrated rather than fully dramatized.
It also successfully navigated the re-imagination of the film amid the uniqueness of both mediums, seamlessly bringing colorful emotions and profound elements. Adapted to deliver the same intensity and depth on the screen, while carrying out the creative opportunities in theater.
Ang Sweatshop, Ang Aparador, at Ang Pinakamatigas na Tsinelas sa Balat ng Lupa is indeed a statement of the marginalized, especially those who are powerless—members of LGBTQIA+ Community, and other victims of abuse and oppression.
This play is a call to action to everyone—not just to those holding power, but to everyone in the community and in this country—to continue fighting for justice and to not turn a blind eye to what is happening around them. For you are part of the problem if you tolerate it.
Place yourself in the shoes of the Filipino people who are dismayed by their own government for the umpteenth time. Continue to preach for equal rights for everyone until they look like they’ve had enough and their ears are bleeding from your voices, because they haven't seen the worst of it yet. These victims can never completely triumph as long as corruption persists.
Even though Jhong and his coworkers won their case, the immense pain and loss of life overshadowed the win. Just like what Jhong said, “Panalo nga ba talaga?”.
Article: Denise Angela Ofilada, Reese Hannah Cativo, and John Lloyd Pablico
Graphics: Shannen Rowan
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