‘Nanay Bangis’ and the Grim Realities of War
‘Nanay Bangis’ and the Grim Realities of War
Contrary to the popular belief that war benefits no one, there are those who thrive in conflict—war profiteers. While the spotlight often falls on arms-producing industries, even the common folk such as merchants can exploit the demand spike during turmoil. Set against the backdrop of the Moro conflict and Martial Law in Mindanao, Nanay Bangis is an unflinching portrayal of humanity’s opportunism amidst war and chaos. Being the first installment of Dulaang Unibersidad ng Pilipinas’ (DUP) 47th season, it is both a haunting reflection and an uncomfortable reminder of how crises magnify the darker side of humanity.
DUP’s Nanay Bangis is a Filipino adaptation of Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage and Her Children, widely regarded as one of the greatest anti-war plays of all time. In this iteration, Nanay Bangis (Geraldine Villamil) is a shrewd businesswoman seeking profit in the midst of the brewing war in Mindanao. Pushing a wagon filled with overpriced food, liquor, and supplies, she journeys through a decade of conflict alongside her three children: Elvis (Ethan King), Kesong Puti (Raymond Aguilar)—which is a witty twist to Brecht’s Schweizerkas or Swiss Cheese, and Christine (Khay Eva). Along the way, they encounter a peculiar cast of characters, including Ynez (Air Paz), a sex worker; Brother Mike (Jigger Sementilla), a priest; and Pedrong Tabako (Ronah Rostata-de la Pena), a cook. Tragedy, however, follows Bangis as her opportunism leads to devastating consequences, leaving her both childless and penniless by the war’s end.
The decision to recontextualize Brecht’s original setting of the Thirty Years’ War to the Moro conflict during Martial Law is a feat worth acknowledging for playwright Rody Vera. This adaptation retains the essence of Brecht’s work, showcasing a war born out of religious and political strife, while simultaneously anchoring it to our Philippine history. The Marcos regime’s dynastic ambitions reshaped Mindanao’s socio-political and theological landscape, sparking the formation of the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF). The ensuing clashes between these groups and government forces brought widespread famine, injury, and death, not just to combatants but also to countless civilians. Vera’s effort to center the struggles of Mindanao—which are often overlooked outside of documentaries—is both timely and necessary. Plays that explore the Philippine history outside of Greater Manila remain scarce, with Ateneo Entablado’s Sa Tahanan ng Aking Ama being a rare recent example. By focusing on the enduring struggles of Mindanaoans, such as red-tagging, extrajudicial killings, and land dispossession, Nanay Bangis offers a voice to those who are still marginalized and oppressed.
What sets Nanay Bangis apart from other productions this year is the deliberate unlikability of its protagonists. Nanay Bangis is not a nurturing mother but an opportunistic businesswoman, and her children reflect a spectrum of arrogance, naïveté, and stubbornness. DUP skillfully employs Brecht’s signature—the alienation effect—detaching the audience emotionally from the characters. This intentional approach ensures viewers focus on the larger socio-political critique rather than personal narratives. Just as empathy begins to form, the play disrupts it with jarring transitions, narration, or musical interludes. While the songs are engaging and occasionally reminiscent of Filipino folk tunes like Bahay Kubo or Sitsiritsit, their seemingly misplaced timing keeps the audience on edge—a known Brechtian technique. A particularly striking sequence during the first act involves a hilariously executed fourth-wall break, adding a layer of confusion and intrigue that sustains audience attention until the very end.
Having only attended a technical dress rehearsal, I refrain from critiquing the set and costume design, as they have evolved in the final staging that is currently happening this month. Nevertheless, the cast, composed of DUP alumni and resident members, delivered compelling performances that kept me engaged. Geraldine Villamil’s commanding portrayal of Nanay Bangis was a standout; her stage presence demanded attention, making every line resonate with the audience. Equally impressive performance was Khay Eva as Christine, Bangis’ mute daughter. Without any spoken lines, Eva conveyed her character’s depth through grunts, screams, and expressive body language. Both Bangis and Christine embody courage and resilience in confronting uncertainty, albeit driven by different motivations. Villamil and Eva each delivered performances that did justice to their respective characters.
The play’s incorporation of traditional Muslim instruments that are played live and its detailed exploration of early Muslim separatist movements in the 1970s contributed educational value you rarely experience anywhere else. The pesantes (Czar Bedoya and Angel Manansala), who performed transitional sequences, were absolutely spellbinding as they depicted the Muslim armed struggle and the community’s slow adaptation to prolonged conflict through fluid Mindanaoan dance movements. These elements are the result of meticulous research by director J. William Herbert Sigmund Go and dramaturges Jonas Gabriel Garcia and Popo Amascual, enriching the theater production beyond just entertainment.
Ultimately, Nanay Bangis is a timely and thought-provoking adaptation that breathes new life into a Brechtian classic. While unconventional at times, the play’s unpredictability is what makes it memorable. Beyond the theater, the play’s ultimate message resonates: the real battle happens beyond the walls of a theater stage. Nanay Bangis serves as a reminder that art can—and should—shine a light on the stories that are urgently needed to be told.
Dulaang UP’s production of Nanay Bangis will run until December 1, at the IBG-KAL Theater, University of the Philippines Diliman. You may visit ticketmelon.com/dulaang-up/nanaybangis to avail tickets.
