Here Lies Love

Here Lies Love is the Karaoke-themed Broadway Musical about Imelda Marcos. The show has garnered praise for, among other things, being the first ever Broadway show with an all Filipino cast. The whole experience was a graduation gift from my good friend David Gerson, a regular on this blog.

However, given the subject matter, the musical has been the subject of much controversy since its beginning, begging the question of whether or not it is appropriate to sing and dance along to a story about the strife that the Philippines faced, America’s infliction, and the legacy of Imelda Marcos. Others have cited this as the point of the story: we are dancing through the political unrest, making ourselves complicit, the way that many others were at the time. Marcos herself had a notoriously large shoe collection and spent much of her time at Studio 54, a topic that comes up throughout the story. Regardless of where you fall in the commentary, believing it to fall flat or to have hit the nail on the head, the show has been a big deal on Broadway.

Some audience members were up on the mezzanine, but we were down at the floor seats, which, for this show, meant that we were standing and dancing the whole time. The stage had been removed and we stood on the floor amongst the cast members as they performed. The crew, standing among us, moved the stage and we were expected to walk with them as they moved it.

There was a fleeting moment when I was worried about getting run over by the stage as they moved it, since they were shuffling along, moving the stage, and we were told to keep moving, but the people in front of me weren’t moving, so I had no choice but to stand there for a brief second, nearly getting run over by the stage.

I regretted not getting my glasses out of my purse before I checked it since there were times where I couldn’t make out the actors’ faces. Other times, I was so close that Imelda Marcos’s dress nearly hit my face. On more than one occasion, the actors had to walk right past me in order to make their cues.

The actor who played Imelda Marcos’s husband, the President of the Philippines, came into the audience, looking to have women appear with him on screen, as the crew walked around with a camera, projecting everything on the walls of the theater.

First I got pushed by David. Then I got shoved by one of the crew members. I was practically passed right into the arms of the male lead and was suddenly projected all over the theater, getting serenaded by him. He sang right to me. I flirted with him right back. The crowd laughed. He raised an eyebrow at me. David told me that I’d just made my Broadway debut.

The rest of the show played on with less flirting, but still some more fabulous dancing. It was without a doubt, the most fun I’ve ever had at a Broadway show.