Some plays entertain. Some plays provoke. And then there are productions like ATENG — the kind that manage to do both with disarming precision.
On November 13, I attended the press preview of the show a day before its official run. You would agree with me that even from the snippets I’m sharing with you alone (see my YouTube vlog below), it was clear: panalo na. The room was alive — laughter bouncing off the walls one minute, and an almost reverent stillness the next. ATENG doesn’t simply tell a story; it pulls its audience into a memory — personal or collective — whether we are prepared for it or not.
The production marks the revival of the 2005 Palanca-award winning one-act play by Vincent de Jesus. Known for narratives that fuse wit and wounded truth, de Jesus once again offers a script that feels universal yet deeply intimate. This staging runs from November 14 to December 7 at RAMPA Drag Club, transforming a nightlife venue into a raw, compact storytelling arena. In a way, it feels perfect — messy, imperfect, human. Exactly like the themes ATENG confronts.
Taking center stage in this revival is Kokoy de Santos, stepping into the role of Onyx with surprising precision — stripped of camera framing and safety nets, he proves he can command a live audience with presence, humor, and vulnerability. But Kokoy is not alone: the full cast for this run includes Thou Reyes and Vincent de Jesus alternating as Kiwi/Ateng, Jason Barcial and Io Balanon alternating as Juicy, and Dyas Adarlo as alternate Onyx.
What struck me most was the emotional rhythm of the show. ATENG is genuinely funny — not polite chuckles, but full laughter — the kind that disarms an audience and makes them vulnerable. But beneath the humor lies something sharp. The play knows exactly when to stop joking and when to let silence speak. It stings. It lingers. It makes you feel.
ATENG is raw. It’s humorous. It’s filled with heartache, sharp edges, and surprising tenderness. Inside a compact performance space, every gesture feels amplified, every line hits a little harder, and every moment is shared — fully — between actor and audience.
Watching ATENG reminded me that not all journeys require miles. Some journeys simply ask us to sit with honesty. It’s a story about identity, belonging, and the fragile search for visibility. It asks: How do we fight for space in a world that keeps telling us to shrink? And how brave do we have to be to finally say, “This is me — whether you like it or not”?
Tickets are priced at ₱1,000, available via Ticket2Me or at the entrance of RAMPA. For the kind of experience ATENG delivers — entertainment, memory, catharsis — that price feels like a steal.
If you’re looking for escapism, ATENG offers laughter. If you’re looking for depth, ATENG offers reflection. And if you’re looking for stories that matter — this one demands to be heard.
Watch my vlog about the experience on YouTube below and make sure to watch the show live before its final week. Let me know in the comments your thoughts about ATENG, keri?
ELYSPLANET 