Warning: This article contains spoilers.

Teatro Tomasino served up yet another successful brew of the Palanca-award-winning play Kapeng Barako Club: Samahan ng mga Bitter, written by Juan Ekis and directed by Lendro Enore, on March 28 and 29 and April 2 to 5 at the Thomas Aquinas Research Complex Auditorium.

Ushers and usherettes clad in aprons welcomed everyone like regulars at Bean’s Coffee Shop. And yes, there are even cups of coffee up for grabs by the entrance to get a taste of what’s to come: bold, bitter, and exciting. Everything felt on-brand the moment I stepped in, as the ambiance steeped in smooth, relaxed notes for the coffee shop vibe before the lights dimmed.

I came in knowing little but a friend’s vague summary about what-ifs in friendship and love. I left with laughter, paired with a couple of gut punches here and there, and a taste of truth.

Love undone

(Llianna Dela Cruz/TomasinoWeb)

Catching up over coffee has never been more dramatic as feelings bubble over when romance starts seeping into seven longtime friends—Joel, Anna, Masi, Eric, Marlowe, Stef, and Sunshine. Toss in a ring, a damning confession, and blinding love to the equation, and friendships start roasting to chaos. After all, love never comes without a bit of heat.

For these lovestruck friends, love ensues trouble when it dares them to go beyond their comfort zones. They try to repress its persistence to protect themselves from vulnerability for the sake of friendship, but love is awfully relentless.

Following this friend group’s love map, the narrative drops us in the heat of the moment during a confrontation between Joel and Anna, where he confesses his feelings. But Anna, as it turns out, might still be hung up on Ed who happens to be Masi’s fiancé. Although Masi’s promised to another, she harbors feelings for Eric, her past flame and the best man of her wedding. Yearning doesn't stop there as Stef quietly longs for Marlowe, whose affections appear mutual, except his eyes are drawn to Sunshine, the barista who has a soft spot for him that she can’t admit even to herself.

The audience followed their story like regulars at Bean’s, ears perked up at the second table to their left, frapp-ey (iykyk) in hand. We sip, we side-eye, and we quietly root for them to take the leap of faith because in the thick of sharp tongues and feigning ignorance, there’s one truth: risking for love beats regretting lost chances and wondering what could’ve been.

Pouring passion on stage

(Llianna Dela Cruz/TomasinoWeb)

A convincing coffee shop set with metal barstools, a comfy couch, and matching decor stands on stage. What’s left is the enticing aroma of coffee beans in the theater to sell it. Although simple and confined, the direction choices in staging managed to move the boundaries of the stage, magnifying the space as the actors paced around.

The ensemble simply oozed chemistry, and it felt a bit like third-wheeling. At times, I caught myself chuckling, and it became clear that what made the cast shine was their chef’s-kiss comedic timing. The humor landed effortlessly without force, a skill that each of the cast played to perfection. Much of the comedy stems from innuendos, but the script itself isn’t packed with overt jokes; rather, it’s the delivery that brings the humor to life.

Beyond cadence, it’s the body language—the playful shifts in posture, suggestive gestures, and slight glances—that prove the show’s wit is in how it’s performed and directed. The hard-hitting lines are packed with a punch—so good I could hear the crowd wince from the rapid-fire exchange of lines to feeling the weight of heavy silence in between, displaying each of their impressive emotional range.

On how the actors breathed life into their roles, Sunshine was a total caffeine kick. As Andrew Garfield beautifully said, she is like a shot of espresso. Even when Sunshine wasn’t the center of a scene, she was a standout whose presence was memorable and awaited.

“Hindi mo maaappreciate ang saya kung never kang nalungkot,” she advised.

Supposedly Miss Optimistic, a soft but guarded Sunshine ends the show with a skeptical question, “Love? ‘Di ba, there’s no such thing?”

Joel, with his heart on his sleeve, acts on a whim. He owns the stage with witty clapbacks and scenes when acid reflux hits. He wears the exterior of a preacher who believes love is an illusion and a myth, until he realizes that love’s aftertaste doesn’t have to be bitter. He swoons with playful charm alongside his best friend Anna, a woman who carries the scene with authority and portrays a cautious realist who refuses to give in easily to the man who made her believe that love is an ideal.

As soon as Masi walks in, she is magnetic with this effortlessly cool persona of rockstar tendencies. She’s fierce but quietly clings to her unrequited love with Eric who backs out of second chances. Masi and Eric remind me of pride, knowing what they want yet not giving in to the other. Stef, the elegant and poised darling of the group from Russia, exudes a touch of daring bitterness, paired with Marlowe’s antics, who is the club’s resident playwright and the comedic heart of the show.

These characters were brought to life with each of their compatibilities and owe their effectiveness to the actors who built this natural dynamic, drawing the audience into the tangle of their messy relationships.

Stirring hearts

(Llianna Dela Cruz/TomasinoWeb)

Choosing to give in to love’s persistence is risking the loss of friendship. It’s a battle we try to subdue when the heart wants what it wants. I recognized that each friend’s confrontation with love mirrors how they take their coffee, either carefully, cautiously, or all at once.

Eric, who was hurt by Masi’s rejection, takes only a sip, abandoning it at the slightest taste of bitterness for fear of another rejection, keeping him from pursuing more. While Stef drowns her coffee with alcohol for some courage or in fear that when love coffee is accepted as it is, its taste might be too overwhelming. Joel, despite the discomfort of coffee’s acidity, shows a willingness to embrace the risks that come with it.

In spite of their preferences, feeling the burn rather than dwelling on what-ifs is the most tasteful choice. Regret weighs more than the bitterness of a love’s end. For even in heartbreak’s wake, traces of sweetness came before it.

Seemed to me that love is a powerful caffeine. So, how do you take your coffee?