Drag me to hell
The idea of staging a rock musical had been kicking around the head of Wolfgang vocalist Basti Artadi for years, possibly decades. It was while working with director Nelsito Gomez, though, that a concept started taking shape and flesh: Basti and Nelsito realized a lot of the singer’s lyrics resembled a much older story, that of Goethe’s ill-fated Faust. You know: the guy who sells his soul to Mephistopheles, and gets dragged down to hell.
So they stitched together a story based on Wolfgang’s songs. “Basti let me go first, I made the initial plot,” says Gomez of the collaboration after the curtain closes at Doreen Black Box Theater, Areté, Ateneo University. “We had to agree which Faust to do, so we decided on the Goethe version—it’s been turned into an opera before, done in so many versions. But the one that came closest to our spines was the F.W. Murnau Faust,” a silent expressionist film. You can see it in the opera-like staging, the deep black eyeliner and somewhat overwrought gestures. There’s also the lack of a libretto: just the lyrics threaded together tell the story. “That’s where the text comes out, the after-effects. German expressionism was kind of our base.”
Per Goethe, Faust is a sympathetic figure: Set in a plague-ridden village, he accepts the devil's bargain and ends up healing others, becoming famous and rich. But there are those nasty strings attached. Newcomer Joseton Vergel de Dios takes on the hapless Faust role with fully expressionist acting moves; but the one who has the most fun is clearly Maita Ponce, playing Mephistopheles (aka Satan) like she’s the only one living in color in a black and white world. The text plays around with the notion of “haters,” and Wolfgang’s lyrics perfectly suit her gothic musings about just doing her thing.
It helps that the stage itself is perfect for a morality tale told through separate boxed compartments. Sarah Facuri, the set designer, “gave me the gift of a set,” says Gomez, harking to silent films, with its smart black panels isolating action to certain staging areas, even resembling a closing aperture when shifting scenes. “You can have an idea of a design, but you have to be able to execute it,” notes the director. The panels aren’t motorized—just two girls backstage, pulling ropes to shift those panels around in perfect synchronization. Like silent film days. “The margin for error is pretty slim,” says Gomez.
The lighting by Jethro Nibaten is striking, conjuring up red-tinged disco-from-hell vibes, and a bright-as-the-sun orange finale as Faust marches to his fate, way down below.
Then there’s the music. Along with the familiar chugging metal guitar riffs of Wolfgang songs, including some lesser-known ones that fit the story’s arc, there’s a Pearl Jam feel to the material as well: The ’90s grunge era spawned a lot of emo consciousness. The band’s melodic vocal lines play well over ballad guitar figures and the more operatic themes where the throats of all involved onstage get a serious shred workout. (Props to Sha-ira Opsimar as Marga, Joshua Cabiladas as Tino, and Matel Patayon as Martha for their chops.)
Shows were sold out after word of mouth spread. Will Si Faust come back next year for an encore? It’s up to them, says Gomez, adding “some people say they want it on a bigger stage, though I kinda like it like this.” Rock musicals based on local bands can be hit or miss, but Si Faust seems to breathe new life into the band’s back catalogue.
As for a recording, Gomez says that’s already in the works. Lead Wolfgang guitarist Manuel Legarda has been re-recording his guitar parts and will produce the soundtrack album to the show. Some of the songs are drawn from a 1998 Wolfgang release, “Wurm,” that Artadi had envisioned as a musical even then. Now it’s all out there.
I ran into Ponce after the show and asked her for a selfie. She seemed so meek, quiet. I remarked that she’s so much more demure offstage. She shrugged, smiled and said she’s “nothing like her character.” Or maybe she was just acting that way for me? Hard to tell with performers.
