EAT + PLAY

It is entirely unsurprising that the “Ang Babae sa Septic Tank” franchise has finally invaded the stage.

As a cinematic property, it remains one of the sharpest meta-satires in contemporary Philippine pop culture, weaponizing a hyper-exaggerated, megalomaniacal version of Eugene Domingo to skewer whatever obsession happens to dominate the zeitgeist. The original 2011 film hilariously dismantled indie cinema’s fixation with poverty porn designed for the international festival circuit. The 2016 sequel turned its sights on formulaic studio rom-coms and hugot culture. Even its streaming incarnation took aim at the excesses of auteur-driven historical revisionism.

The theater feels like the franchise’s natural next target. After all, this is supposedly the golden age of Philippine theater — a claim the show itself gleefully references, even name-dropping our colleague Gibbs Cadiz. Whether theater is truly outperforming a struggling local film industry is up for debate, but if the fictional Eugene Domingo wants to maintain her iron grip on cultural relevance — following the logic within the world of “Septic Tank” — then conquering the stage is the next inevitable step.

As for the real Domingo, whose roots are deeply embedded in theater, this also feels like her grand PETA homecoming.

Act One centers around an extended dinner scene where Eugene pitches her ambitious stage project to her inner circle while high on Thai THC gummy bears. Her proposal? A restaging of Aurelio Tolentino’s revolutionary play “Kahapon, Ngayon, at Bukas” to be performed on a ship while sailing across the West Philippine Sea. It is a wonderfully absurd escalation of the franchise’s signature hyperbole, yet it feels entirely plausible within Uge’s universe.

On gala night, packed to the gills with members of the theater community, this dinner scene, as orchestrated by director Maribel Legarda, was an absolute showpiece. The rapid-fire jokes and industry-specific barbs landed flawlessly, turning the theater into a comedy bar on steroids. 

The result is one of the funniest first acts I’ve seen onstage in quite some time.

However, this brilliance comes with a caveat. A non-theater friend who watched the show noted that it occasionally felt like an exclusive, kayo-kayo lang ang nagkakaintindihan inside joke. While that alienation is a valid risk, the sheer commitment of the cast ensures that the inanities remain highly accessible and wildly entertaining, even if a few specific industry references fly over your head.

The momentum shifts in Act Two as the narrative transitions into the “play-within-a-play” rehearsal process. Here, the comedy loses some of its initial bite, occasionally falling back on well-worn theatrical tropes we have seen staged before. 

Yet, this is precisely where the thematic core of “Septic Tank” hits home.

Every grand, noble intention spouted during the Act One dinner is thrown out the window to make the production palatable, commercial, and completely subservient to its star’s outsized ego. The very mechanics they were railing against minutes prior become the tools of their own production. Yes, they even turned it into a musical.

If there is any missed opportunity, it is that the script by Chris Martinez (who also penned the films) could have been even bitchier. Given the notoriously outspoken, eccentric personalities that populate our theater ecosystem, some of the barbs could have been meaner, sharper, and truly no-holds-barred.

Still, whatever narrative unevenness emerges in the second act is more than compensated for by its powerhouse ensemble. From the “Ugeng-gengs” — Domingo’s theater trained fictional fandom — to the main cast members playing sometimes-unflattering versions of themselves (Andoy Ranay, in particular, is a scene-stealing hoot), the chemistry is electric. The entire company fully embraces the silliness, diving into the script’s inanities with zero qualms about self-deprecation.

And then, of course, there is Domingo herself. At this point, it is impossible to think of anyone else of her stature who would commit this fiercely, look this ridiculous, and sustain this level of manic, live comedic energy. Her timing is immaculate. This performance effectively ices her reputation as an untouchable comedic icon.

More importantly, in a landscape where both local and foreign productions are visibly struggling with ticket sales and offering deep discounts just to fill seats,  we finally have a genuine, undeniable box-office smash. People are roaring in their seats, buying tickets in droves, and proving that there is still plenty of life in the local scene. 

And that is the delicious irony of it all: in a franchise built on mocking creators with savior complexes, Eugene Domingo might have actually stepped up and saved the 2026 theater season.

‘Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 4’ runs until August 16 at the PETA Theater Center, Quezon City.