Eugene Domingo Is Coming Home to the Theater

As a student at the University of the Philippines Diliman, the then-budding thespian was a member of the school’s performing arts organization, Dulaang UP, where she was first introduced to the 1986 musical Into the Woods by Broadway legend Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine. Around that same time, Lea Salonga was making waves as a Filipina on the international stage, having originated the role of Kim in the 1989 West End production of Miss Saigon.

“During that time, it wasn’t easy to access musicals. Until a friend has some VHS tape, you wouldn't know,” Eugene says. “So what happens is, you listen to recordings. The first recording that I would listen to many, many times was Les Misérables. And after that, lumabas si Miss Saigon.”

“It was very historic,” she recalls. “Up to this day, we really cannot forget that opportunity given to Filipino artists. So from then on, bukas na rin ’yung awareness ko sa musicals.”

For this production, Eugene dons the matronly apron of Jack’s Mother from Jack and the Beanstalk, one part of the twisted fusion and deconstruction of classic fairytales that paint these noble childhood characters as hauntingly human, driven by basic needs, wants, and even superficial greed. And while her role may live in the realm of make-believe, the actress considers Jack’s Mother as the archetype of a “Pilipinang nanay,” a woman merely concerned about the finances that drive her household. 

It’s all very real, but dressed in the spectacle reserved for the fantasies of fairytales and musicals, the latter of which she had to acclimate herself to once again. Eugene, for one, confesses that there was brief hesitation in taking a singing part at this point in her career, as it required “a lot of discipline.” “Maybe I’m an actress who can sing, but I’m not really a singer,” she says. “It’s a different discipline that you should start as young as you can.” 

The big number of Jack’s Mother is right in the prologue, as the characters premise their wishes and desires to the tune of “Into the Woods.” “I have this part as Jack’s mom na I will sing a range high,” she explains. “But I’m very honest. I told my vocal coach and the director, ‘Sorry, you have to adjust it to my key,’” Eugene says. “It happens naman also in the opera—they really adjust it to the range of the artista and also because an actor will tell you if this is comfortable for them.” 

To echo her sentiment, while her return to the stage will always inevitably come, Eugene is past the need for validation. Her three-decade filmography spans comedy blockbuster hits and critically acclaimed indie favorites that have made her a household name, but what the veteran actress earns in theater is a return to her earlier, idealistic self.

“When I get older and when I do theater, I just want to remember how I felt when I was trying to form myself,” Eugene shares. “So it’s giving me a ‘younger heart’ feeling. It’s like grounding you and reminding you, ‘This is what you wanted before.’”

However, that isn’t to say that she doesn’t get the same effect through cinema. Film is “grounding” her, too, she explains, but more as a manifestation of her hard work and her long presence in the industry. “It’s the effect of working hard. That’s why I have this longevity. That’s why I’m still doing it because I worked hard for it,” she says. “Film and theater are different for me. Siguro, theater really comes from my soul, and film comes from being alive.”

The disciplines may have their similarities, but they also come with their own set of challenges. If theater created magic within the confines of a stage, film told its stories through a lens, often set in real locations—and that meant hectic shoot schedules that could stretch well beyond regular hours. Theater, on the other hand, demanded sustained focus and discipline, with no room for breaks or do-overs.

“'Pag theater, I cannot do other things. I’m so focused,” she says. “I don’t really require an alternate or an understudy as much as possible. I want to do my shows. So you have to take care of yourself, because this is dere-derecho. Wala 'tong cut. You have to be ready all the time. It’s a lot of work.”

But beyond herself, theater is an art form reliant on its community. The spirit of it remains true when it comes to Eugene’s relationship with her castmates. “I’m not a perfectionist, but I want to understand immediately. I want to study my material. I want to be ready for my director because I don’t want to be a burden to the group,” she admits. “Sa theater, walang bida dito. Walang bida, walang big player, walang gano’n. This is a group working on one production, so you improve together.”

In her time as a theater major and a Dulaang UP member, a college-age Eugene Domingo would be among her fellow students, selling tickets to their productions and coaxing them and their professors into seats. It’s a stark contrast to the present day, with shows for Into the Woods sold out months before their official staging, or even before the start of their rehearsals.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s a refreshing turn of events. “Compared to the audiences going to the cinema, the theater is really up there,” Eugene notes. “When they say, ‘I will buy a ticket worth P3,000, P4,000,’ 'di na sila nagdadalawang isip. They will watch and they will go wherever that is, kahit bahain.”

This speaks to Filipino audiences who are now embracing theater and live local productions, but conversely, it underscores the quiet shift from once-lively cinemas that were packed with moviegoers, some of which are now being forced to shutter due to a lack of demand.

The pandemic—and streaming services—have introduced audiences to the convenience of watching movies at home. Coupled with the rising prices of movie tickets, some may have come to see live theater as a better bang for their buck—especially with the renewed craving for real, in-person performances after a time when communal experiences were limited. For Eugene, even if movies are drawing smaller audiences overall, she points to the spike in moviegoers during Christmas and the Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) season—moments that, she notes, still reflect a strong sense of community.

Being in a hall with hundreds and thousands of strangers, united by a singular experience, is one of the quiet beauties of cinema and theater, after all. In stage acting, it’s the people who give the craft its soul. And once the curtain falls, Eugene Domingo is left with the community and the people who made everything happen.

“The performance is a performance—it’s half job and half passion. But what I value in every production or in every company that I join is always the relationships I’ve formed, because life is like that,” she says. “That’s what I look forward to. Every time I join a production, every night in the theater—your friendships, your relationship among the cast—it’s growing.”