The Road to Edinburgh. A diary reflection. 

Entry by: Enrico Tee

Multimedia | Father Legaspi

Today, I found myself thinking back to our first script reading. It was a cool summer day, and I had just been asked to play Monsignor Legaspi. As we read through the first draft together, I realized this story was very different from the light-hearted fantasy I had come to expect. Instead, it explored the painful history of the Philippines during World War II, especially the atrocities committed against civilians. I knew immediately that this role would demand much more emotionally than anything I had done before.

As I reflected on the script, I wondered whether people would question why such a difficult and political subject was being brought to the stage now. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that stories like this never lose their relevance. The suffering of war is universal. Victims of violence, abuse, and conflict deserve to be remembered, no matter where or when their stories happened.

During our discussion, it became clear that these stories must continue to be told. History has a way of fading if people stop talking about it, and each new generation risks forgetting the sacrifices and tragedies that came before them. Every war leaves pain on all sides, but for a small country like the Philippines, caught in the middle of a global conflict, those memories are especially important to preserve.

As we spoke, emotion caught me by surprise. Hearing someone describe growing up surrounded by war reminded me that no one is truly meant to accept violence as normal. My own emotions came from remembering the stories my grandparents, great-uncles, and great-aunts shared about surviving World War II. Reading the script felt as though I was helping give voice to people who could no longer tell their own stories.

By the end of the first reading, any doubts I had, disappeared. Even though, Legaspi is a contemporary character, he is now involved in a plot that has its roots in WW2. I realized this production was not simply about history—it was about remembrance. Through this role, I have the chance to honour those who suffered and ensure that their experiences are not forgotten. That alone makes telling this story worthwhile.