Deliryo sa El Niño: When the heat plays tricks on the heart
The February sun bore down on Manila with the kind of heat that made the air feel thick—clinging to the skin, seeping into bones, and warping time itself. Outside the National Museum of Fine Arts, a restless crowd lined up, with sweat beading on their foreheads. The spirit of art was alive; it was a day for culture—for stories to unfold under the weight of a sky that refused to offer shade.
Pasinaya, the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ (CCP) annual grand festival in celebration of National Arts Month, had drawn waves of spectators. But among the sea of performances it offered, one notable staging promised something particularly striking—a fever dream spun from the works of William Shakespeare, translated and reborn by Vladimeir Gonzales, and directed by Nazer D. Salcedo, under the unrelenting blaze of the Filipino sun.
This was Deliryo sa El Niño, TEATRO Lasalliana’s adaptation of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, retold in the halls of history. It was a story where young hearts collided in both reality and illusion, and where supernatural beings of Philippine folklore, Engkanto, angered by drought and desire, meddled in human affairs with a touch of trickery and a handful of magic.
Love, chaos, and a nation’s heatstroke
It didn’t take long for the delirium to set in. The stage was alive with the rustle of makeshift tree costumes adorned with branches and leaves, and the air embellished with thick abakada-nurtured accents. The set felt distinctly, unmistakably Filipino. Yet, at its heart, the story pulsed with something deeply universal: love—just in time for the month of hearts.
What better way to kick off a Filipino-bounded play than with a familiar music that resonates with the audience? Buwan by Juan Karlos “JK” Labajo echoed in tiny timbres of the kampon ng kadiliman as the magical Engkanto laced the air with its sinister laugh.
Meanwhile, Mia, a quintessential Gen Z girl with a voice that dripped in conyo flair, scrolled endlessly on her phone, a contrast to the rustic backdrop of her world. Her best friend, Allen, flamboyant and fearless, caught in an amusing love triangle that grew messier with each enchanted twist. There was also Dimitri, always occupied by his influencer gig, and Sandro, the devoted boyfriend—both victims of a supernatural meddling that blurred the lines of attraction and identity.
A contemporary theater for a contemporary generation
But this wasn’t just Shakespeare draped in Filipino folklore. It was contemporary theater at its finest—a seamless blending of tradition and modernity, where Tagalog poetry met Gen Z slang and Engkantos interfered not only with fairy dust, but with something far more sinister: the scorching effects of climate change. The relentless heat was more than a setting, rather, it was a force; a character in itself, altering moods, pushing people to their limits, making them act out of desperation and desire. Ang init sa Pilipinas!
And isn’t that what contemporary storytelling does? It holds up a mirror to our present, twisting the old into something new.
In a world growing hotter, both literally and emotionally, Deliryo sa El Niño wasn’t just about fantasy; it was about survival. It questioned the relationships not just of lovers but of classes, the boundaries not just of gender but of societal expectations.
It asked, in the most playful yet profound way: What happens when we let go of control?
Deliryo, indeed
By the end of the play, when the spells unraveled and a mystical lady (which I would describe as Diwata) entered the picture carrying the classic, upbeat tune of Kapag Tumibok Ang Puso by Donna Cruz, the audience was left with something heavier than laughter. There left a question, whether it was all just magic or a reflection of something real—something we are living through.
Outside, the night would have done little to cool the city. Manila still burned—in heat, in passion, in the madness of youth and love. And perhaps that was the point. That we, too, are living in our own deliryo, shaped by forces beyond our control, longing for something true amid the haze.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s the magic of theater—to remind us that even in the trickery of it all, the feelings are always real.
***
The play, where old wives tales meet 21st century humor, jazzed up the hall with giggles of hilarity that captured the entertainment of its young spectators. In the midst of it all, the Filipino psyche glimmered—our obsession with romance, our rigid class divides, and our deep-rooted beliefs in the unseen forces that guide our fate.
