'We Aren’t Kids Anymore' sings the pains of adulthood

Growing up is easy. But becoming an adult, not so much.

Barefoot Theatre Collaborative opened its 2025 season with a rendition of 'We Aren’t Kids Anymore' (WAKA), a coming-of-age song cycle by Broadway composer Drew Gasparini and directed by Rem Zamora.

With the original production having debuted just in 2019, the material — the story or the songs — might not be familiar to audiences.  

But as soon as the band walks onto the stage and arranges their instruments, it would become evident that WAKA would be driven less by a traditional narrative and more by musical expressions.

Nineteen songs string together a sort of presentation that will feel like ruminations of Gasparini’s experiences growing up, interwoven with Keith White’s spoken word poetry and orchestrations by Justin Goldner. In this local production, Myke Salomon and Farley Asuncion stand as musical directors.

The five characters - feature players Gab Pangilinan, Maronne Cruz, Gio Gahol, Luigi Quesada, and Salomon - impersonate different aspects of one consciousness (think "Inside Out") with each holding certain literal and symbolic baggage. 

The stage acts as a sort of brain where each personality would clash or harmonize with another and would stream into different thoughts or life events, whether it be living in New York or taking illegal drugs. 

Less a linear story, WAKA flows like a series of intimate snapshots either sung individually or as a group — honest meditations on how we grow and outgrow the narratives we once believed about ourselves.

Having watched this production twice, I got to see the cast on two different occasions. The second one was particular as it was after Gahol got into an accident in real life, yet continued being part of the cast.

His latest performance was commendable as he kept performing even with a disadvantage. And it made his angst and anger become even more palpable.

For their parts, the remaining players adapted to this unique predicament and the situation worked on stage.Their actions were more unique to their characters and more unpredictable, which is part of growing up after all.

Guided by Jomelle Era’s movement direction, the slower pace and purposeful choreography made for a more coherent overall look, allowing everyone to shine.

It's good to see Pangilinan and Cruz since CAST PH’s recent rendition of Othello. Being previously together helped their dynamics and seeped in a sense of female camaraderie into this production.

Salomon and Quesada in differing personalities — the former as a stable mask and the latter as a doubting, fragile self — complemented the songs with their vocals.

The song lyrics are honest expressions of fragility, insecurity, anger, and anxiety done through auditory expression - self-reflection in vocal streams of consciousness. It feels almost like talk therapy, with the production wearing empathy on its sleeve. An added bonus: The songs, albeit unknowns, are pleasing to hear.

Rather than a polished backdrop, the music feels present and lived-in, with the lyrics gaining urgency and warmth in real time as the characters express them vocally. The band’s presence elevated the show from a reflective piece to a visceral experience.

There was minimalist usage of mise-en-scene, brought by Joey Mendoza and Hershee Tantiado (production design) and Aron Roca (sound design). 

Lighting, from D Cortezano, was adapted to the beat of each music. The spotlight was maximized especially on more melancholic numbers, highlighting a loneliness that plagues adulthood. 

The stage was shaped square like a sandbox but also felt like a locker room, with bags being put under the benches. 

Given that, Barefoot has a history of tweaking the concept of arena stages to further enhance the presentation. WAKA’s closed staging feels like Barefoot’s "The Last Five Years" — like a linear timeline to fit the story. 

One aspect of a young adult’s life that somehow lurked in the story (maybe unintentionally), though not properly acknowledged in the production, is the presence of modern technology.

Beside a character telling a significant other to “to get off the cellphone” to talk, there was no other pervasive evidence of that in the play. 

Yet the desire to connect is evident in each characters’ admission, somehow reflecting a uniquely interconnected world where more digital connection leads to greater loneliness, a paradox of modern times.

Some may find it hard to connect with the overall production given the work’s recency and Western gaze. But the overall musical experience will make up for the production’s lack of familiarity. 

"We Aren’t Kids Anymore" is a musical treat; the ups and downs of the adulting have never sounded this good. Heck, middle-aged folks will bop their heads all throughout.  

Licensed by Concord Theatricals, this production of WAKA was staged at the Power Mac Center Spotlight Blackbox Theater in Circuit Makati. The show runs for 90 minutes with no intermission.

The production runs until May 25, 2025. Tickets are available here. — LA, GMA Integrated News