Beyond schmaltz: Reimagining ‘The Notebook’ for the Philippine stage

‘The Notebook The Musical’ goes beyond romance with bold staging, layered storytelling and standout performances.

Had Theatre Group Asia’s “The Notebook The Musical” chosen to inherit the unabashed sentimentality of Nicholas Sparks’ 1996 novel and its three-hanky 2004 cinematic progeny starring Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams, it still would have been embraced by Filipino viewers, especially given our insatiable appetite for melodrama and theatrical excess.

Instead, director Nicholas Polonio boldly subverts the formula, proving there is far more to Allie Nelson and Noah Calhoun’s rich-girl-meets-poor-boy romance than mere schmaltz. 

Granted, Ingrid Michaelson’s lush folksy indie-pop score—which tends to sound generic and repetitive—won’t always have musical theater purists humming on their way out, save perhaps for “Carry You Home,” “If This is Love” and the standout anthem “My Days.” Yet, that is precisely the point. 

The stripped-back music clears the stage for Allie and Noah, transforming the production into a poignant meditation on a love that transcends the ravages of time and memory loss. On the heels of this triumph, one can only hope Polonio continues to unearth and reshape stories for Filipino audiences.

He is aided immensely by book writer Bekah Brunstetter, who poignantly translates her “This Is Us” pedigree to the stage. Just as the hit TV series deftly deployed nonlinear storytelling to capture Mandy Moore’s descent into cognitive decline—tethering her character between a beloved past and a fractured present—Brunstetter brings that same temporal fluidity and emotional depth to this musical.

Years ago in the West End, “Billy Elliot” swept us off our feet during the second-act “Dream Ballet” sequence—a poignant dance duet where an 11-year-old Billy takes flight in a harness alongside his future adult self. That breathtaking memory makes the theatrical metaverse of “The Notebook” all the more indelible. 

Here, the three color-coordinated iterations of Allie (in blue) and Noah (in red)—portrayed with earnest perspicacity by Sheena Belarmino and Benedix Ramos, Morissette and Laurence Mossman, and Celeste Legaspi and the consistently sympathetic Rody Vera—seamlessly interact across time.

Rather than taking place during the Great Depression and World War II, the musical catapults the story forward into the 1960s, framing Noah’s wartime separation from Allie around the Vietnam War.

Furthermore, the production’s three-layered staging—stretching from the rustic river dock of the characters’ youth to the sterile assisted-living facility of an Alzheimer’s-stricken Allie in her twilight years—gives these chronological shifts profound depth and distance. As the action recedes upstage, it grants the audience a striking spatial map of the passage of time. 

While the venue initially seems too cavernous for its minimalist design, the true purpose behind the set eventually crystallizes. Production designer Miguel Urbino renders Noah’s restored plantation home as a skeletal silhouette, bathed in the nostalgic glow of Cha See’s lighting design—a striking physical symbol of a promise kept against all odds. It is Noah’s personal Taj Mahal, a monument to both enduring love and unspeakable loss. 

The true brilliance of the design, however, lies in its execution. As the house is assembled piece by piece, it beautifully mirrors the fragments of memory Allie struggles to stitch together in her fading mind. Seen from a distance, this devastating picture gains sharper resonance, framed by a stark perspective that emphasizes the vast, empty space around it.

As a theatrical piece, the musical anchors its emotional weight around two veritable highlights. The first is a brilliantly localized, exquisitely illuminated rain effect that lends a raw, physical intensity to Middle Allie and Noah’s climactic reunion. 

The second arrives the morning after, when Morissette delivers a vocal tour de force with “My Days.” As Allie vows to forge her own destiny, her awakening is viscerally complemented by the staging, which positions her as a maestro flawlessly conducting her own orchestra. She soars through the anthem with breathtaking power, creating an unforgettable marriage of staging and vocal triumph.

The principal performances are beautifully balanced, flourishing even as the three Noahs deviate in physical appearance and approach their respective characterizations with distinct emotional impulses. This divergence, however, is a deliberate feature of the musical adaptation’s DNA. 

Echoing the Broadway iteration’s use of multi-ethnic casting across its timelines, the production intentionally leans into these physical contrasts—using them as a compelling theatrical tool to universalize the romance while metaphorically capturing the fractured landscape of Allie’s recollections.

While the legendary Celeste Legaspi expectedly imbues her character with effortless gravitas and stellar flair, the production’s true revelation is Morissette, who proves she is as formidable an actress as she is an outstanding vocalist. Her theatrical triumph in “The Notebook” stands in sharp contrast to her big-screen debut in “Song of the Fireflies,” a film produced by Legaspi’s own Culturtain Musicat Productions. 

Though that film boasted an inspiring true story, Morissette’s performance left us feeling underwhelmed—a lackluster portrayal hamstrung by a sterile storytelling approach. It was far from a failure, but it certainly lacked the vibrant intensity she so brilliantly displays here.

Watching Legaspi, whose legendary body of work carries National Artist-level authority, offers a blueprint for younger actors. While audiences might have expected her glorious voice to be highlighted by towering showtunes, her singular musical moment functions more as a rigorous acting exercise than a traditional vocal showcase. 

Legaspi knows that an actor’s job is to serve the material and elevate the text, eschewing the temptation to play to the peanut gallery for cheap vocal titillation—a sharp contrast to performers who mistakenly believe that grandstanding is the only path to audience appreciation. 

In one striking scene, she bravely bypasses pristine vocal technique to remain unswervingly true to her character’s internal reality—a masterstroke of artistic humility.

Theatre Group Asia’s “The Notebook The Musical” is running at the Samsung Performing Arts Theater until Sept. 20.

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