‘Dogeaters’ Tackles Chaotic Changes in Philippines

Recent Filipino history provided plenty of drama for Jessica Hagedorn’s 1990 novel “Dogeaters.” Yet those events have been virtually untouched by the American stage, despite our fascination with the island nation’s Marcos regime.

So it seemed smart for La Jolla Playhouse to ask Hagedorn to adapt her novel for the stage. Her challenge was to whittle her sprawling, nonlinear narrative, which distributed the point of view among several characters, into something more focused. In the version staged by the playhouse’s artistic director Michael Greif, she’s halfway there.

With 15 actors playing 37 characters, “Dogeaters” required intensive work just to make sure that the audience wouldn’t be confused. Hagedorn has passed this hurdle. Though the first act takes a long time to introduce everyone, connections between the characters become clearer after intermission, and the narrative begins to move swiftly. The basic story, set in 1981-82, traces the prelude to a political assassination and the effect the killing has on a disparate group of Filipinos.

In the end, however, we have only glimpsed some of these people. When a general’s wife whom we’ve hardly met delivers a long, emotional, summarizing prayer, her words might have more impact if we knew more about her.

The largest problem is a sense of disconnection between sporadic scenes set in 1959 and the bulk of the action.

The 1959 scenes are surely significant for Hagedorn, because they’re more autobiographical than the others. She lived in the Philippines until 1963, when she came to America with her mother. The central character of the 1959 scenes, Rio Gonzaga (Sandra Oh), is loosely based on the author as a young teenager.

Yet these scenes bring clutter, not clarity. If some of her family members had turned up in the later narrative with changed perspectives, the scenes from their earlier life might make more sense, but during most of the play these characters exist only in 1959.

Outside the family, four characters bridge the gap between eras. Two of these serve as narrators and context, not as real people. The other two, a hairdresser and his friend, who later becomes a disco owner, play such big roles in the 1981-82 narrative that their presence in 1959--at what appears to be the same ages that they play in the ‘80s--is puzzling.

The young Rio is useful in reading excerpts from historical works that help demonstrate how the Filipino blend of Asian, Spanish and American cultures developed. But this could be accomplished in other ways as well.

In the panorama of performances, several are especially striking. Alec Mapa’s gay disco owner--and headliner in drag--is a flamboyant crowd pleaser. He also plays a young, heterosexual waiter who believes he’ll become a movie star, as well as a New York Times reporter who interviews German film director Rainer Fassbinder, who’s in Manila for a festival. Fassbinder’s portrayed by a scruffy Christopher Donahue as a blithe hedonist.

Seth Gilliam generates considerable steam as the play’s narrative engine--a deejay, junkie and hustler who sleeps with Fassbinder, witnesses the assassination, goes on the lam, becomes involved in a murder and finally goes through detox while hiding in the mountains with rebel forces. In a more focused play, Gilliam might be the star.

Alberto Isaac ably plays a sympathetic nationalist senator, and a sleazy drug dealer. The senator’s daughter is a pivotal character, played with such sympathy by Tess Lina that she, too, appears to be a candidate for greater development in a revision.

Bernard White shifts smoothly between the richest man in Manila, all goggle-eyed while he watches his mistress’ pornographic movie, and a smooth-talking soap star. Ching Valdes-Aran makes brightly surreal comedy out of her brief appearances as the first lady, presumed to be Imelda Marcos. JoJo Gonzalez struts like a bantam cock as a sinister general and then scrapes and bows as a lowly servant.

Recognizing that lavish sets would complicate matters, Greif and the designers use several levels of a large platform, dramatic lighting, projections and hard-driving music. Short scenes pass so quickly that one wonders if Hagedorn’s original idea of doing a movie isn’t still her ultimate goal. But a movie might require even more paring of the narrative, and those hard decisions have yet to be made.

* “Dogeaters,” Mandell Weiss Forum, UC San Diego, La Jolla. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m.; Saturdays-Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends Oct. 11. $21-$39. (619) 550-1010. Running time: 3 hours.

Sandra Oh: Rio Gonzaga

Emily Kuroda: Dolores Gonzaga/Trinidad Gamboa

Ricardo Chavira: Freddie Gonzaga/Pepe Carreon

Ching Valdes-Aran: Lola Narcisa/First Lady/Leonor Ledesma

Natalie Griffith: Pucha/Lolita Luna

Lori Yeghiayan: Lorenza/Cora Camacho

Melody Butiu: Barbara Villanueva/Clarita Avila

Bernard White: Nestor Noralez/Severo Alacran

Alec Mapa: Romeo Rosales/Andres Alacran/Steve Jacobs

Alberto Isaac: Senator Avila/”Uncle”

JoJo Gonzalez: Pedro/General Ledesma/Tito Alvarez/Waiter

Seth Gilliam: Joey Sands

Christopher Donahue: Rainer Fassbinder/Bob Stone/Tourist

Tess Lina: Daisy Avila

John-Andrew Morrison: Chiquiting Moreno

A La Jolla Playhouse production. By Jessica Hagedorn. Directed by Michael Greif. Set by Loy Arcenas. Costumes by Brandin Baron. Lighting by Kenneth Posner. Sounds by Mark Bennett. Projections by Woo Art International. Stage manager Steven Adler.