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| CJ Navato as Kapre and Kyle Napuli as Gabriella in Kislap and Fuego Photo Courtesy of PETA |
Kislap at Fuego and Algo Double Bill was a twin-bill shot of Filipino art I never knew I was craving. PETA’s experimental works from 2024 returned to the stage with a freshness that’s hard to resist — bite-sized goodness built on depth and culture. One is fantasy, and the other is realism. One time travels to the past; the other mirrors our bothersome present. Kislap at Fuego unravels its message with romance and subtlety, while Children of the Algo delivers truths with cold, unflinching directness. Both fearless, both persuasive theatre.
Magic in a Black Box: Kislap at Fuego
Kislap at Fuego accomplishes so much within a restrictive black box theatre — never lacking in magic, content, or talent. Created by Palanca Awardee Dominique La Victoria, the play already implies a strong voice. I was so drawn to the material that I searched its origins. Kislap is adapted from the short story, “The Odd and the Ugly” by award-winning author Vida Cruz-Borja. Reading the original version made me appreciate Cruz-Borja’s intent, La Victoria’s respect for the original work, and the cleverness of Gentl Mapagu, who translated it. The result is refined, resonant, and palpable for live theatre.
The story centers on Gabriela, played by Felicity Kyle Napuli, who ventures into the forest to confront a Kapre (CJ Navato), drawn straight from Filipino mythology. She seeks to settle a debt her father left behind after stealing a mango from him. The Kapre resists her presence at first but eventually lets her enter her world. Together, they navigate getting to know each other , eliciting the magnanimous, warm applause of an audience who couldn't get enough of their onstage romantic chemistry.
As the story deepens, Gabriela reveals that — much like our own Gabriela Silang — she embodies the heart of a revolutionary. She longs to honor the works of José Rizal and the impact of his words, novels, and leadership. She dreams of change — of a Philippines liberated, free to love life in its fullest glory, bathed in freedom.
The Kapre, in turn, reveals his own painful truth. He was once human — a man consumed by greed and insecurity. He had everything and lost everything, including his great love, the diwata.
The closing revelation reframes everything. The story closes with Gabriella becoming the Diwata trapped in the human world. Her powers reach her fingers and ignite her soul, and she remembers everything about the past, the ills of the human world, and her love for Kapre, who used to be her beloved Ezekiel. They both simmer in their brokenness and take a step towards each other to express that indeed love will conquer all.
I sincerely loved the material. But what made it even more special was that the team did not merely present a beautiful story with a message — they accomplished so much more.
At the forefront, Felicity Kyle Napuli was a vibrant Gabriela. Her energy created an undeniable pull; she commanded the crowd with confidence. Her choices were deliberate, embodying a defiant and authoritative woman who felt startlingly contemporary — almost as if she had stepped straight out of 2026. There were moments when her performance bordered on the theatrical extreme, but this was intriguingly balanced by CJ Navato’s calming presence as the Kapre. His restraint grounded their exchanges, keeping the dialogue clear and engaging. Navato’s charm felt lifted from a Korean rom-com — rough around the edges, yet undeniably sweet and disarming. Together, they generated the kind of romantic chemistry that audiences crave.
Purposeful pauses with a whole lot of comedy were provided by Nuno sa Punso Leron (Ekis Gimenez) and Pipay (Carlon Matobato). Collectively, the entire cast’s competence in delivery, timing, and physicality caused delightful mayhem in the audience — bursts of gigil, waves of kilig, uncontrollable laughter rippling through the seats. According to the pre-show talk, only a handful of the audience had watched theatre before Kislap, so it felt like the biggest win ever to have converted busloads of people who were not too excited at the beginning into a cheering audience who couldn't help but love the material. That, in itself, felt like the biggest victory — a true check on the bucket list for the entire company.
The show also taught the crowd about history and culture. The insertions were so smooth that the audience didn't even notice they were being schooled on the presence of other folklores, traditional dances, and Philippine Literature. As it glorifies our roots, in its comedy, it also acknowledges the present life using gestures that mimic current events, TikTok”6, 7”, dance steps from Katseye's Gabriella. These moments really baited the audience hook, line, and sinker.
Boni Juan’s fantasy setting, paired with lighting by Rafa Sumilong and projections by Bene Manaois, created magical, intimate moments, especially the shadow play on a small canvas.
Kislap at Fuego is fantasy, but it grounds you. When Napuli screams, “Ang mga librong ito, mas mahalaga pa sa buhay ko,” it is doctrine. Memory is protection. History, when remembered properly, becomes armor. Never forget.
Children of the Algo: Reality Check
Children of the Algo by Mixkaela Villalon felt like a satisfying rant about the hypocrisy of present-day life. Four influencer characters — Yani (Nyla Festejo), Jen (Frances Marie Akol), Owen (James Pe Lim), and Mark (Otep Madriaga) — expose the irony behind curated online perfection. Life is rarely perfect.
The format mimics online scrolling: vignettes with no interaction, gradually revealing a sense of dissatisfaction. Mark’s climactic monologue breaks the “ wall,” speaking of broken promises, corruption, isolation, and the lack of community for ordinary people.
Conceptually, it is strong — a slice of real life meant to shake the youth’s perspective. Mimicking the screen was a solid idea. The cast is talented, especially Madriaga, who was incredibly believable. But the execution could have been tighter. It felt like a drag at times because halfway through, you already understood the point and where it was going. The movement in the play was also limited, with the influencers taking up space on a moving scaffolding of sorts, so visually, there wasn't much to keep you hooked.
A Twin Bill That Persuades
Together, Kislap at Fuego and Children of the Algo prove that this twin bill is more than entertainment — it is persuasive theatre. Kislap grounds us in memory, reminding us of past struggles and cultural identity. Algo unsettles us in the present, exposing the performative, isolating aspects of modern life. Different in style, both bold and passionate, they ask the same question: what are we doing with the freedom we fought for?
Overall, it’s satisfying theatre. Bravo Filipino.
