MANILA — Anyone who lived in Hawai’i in the early 1990s remember the story of the pint-sized Elvis impersonator in a Waikiki revue named Bruno Hernandez. He wasn’t even in grade school yet when he appeared on the cover of the local Midweek newspaper (which we all still remember), dressed fully as the King, and it soon landed him a role as an Elvis impersonator in the film “Honeymoon in Vegas.” In Hawaii, local fame is a big deal. And before he even hit 10, Bruno was a bit of local celebrity.
The cute kid already had the kind of style, performing chops and showmanship that some spend a lifetime trying to attain. Definitely not the kind of thing that even crossed my mind when I was in elementary school, living in the Philippines. Coincidentally, that’s where I was on Sunday night, watching Bruno Mars perform so effortlessly on stage at the Philippine Arena (in Santa Maria, Bulacan, about 30 km north of Manila, and about 75 km away where I once lived).
Close your eyes and imagine little Peter Hernandez Jr. doing the kind of rollicking show he was doing with his father’s “The Love Notes” doo-wop variety show at Honolulu’s Esprit night club 30 years ago, or later as the opening act to the Magic of Polynesia in his teens. Mars is still doing the same kind of big, diverse crowd-pleasing show – but now on an epic level.
It’s the vocals and the moves, yes. But there’s also the three-piece brass horn section. The equally smooth singing and dancing backup “Hooligans,” providing the necessary hype. There’s Mars wailing on the guitar, which he’s become quite a pro at. Mars pointedly introduces his band at the very beginning of the night, and gives them each a moment in the spotlight to show off their talents. The singer takes a moment to perform some of his vast songwriting catalog, solo on piano. In a nod to his origins, Mars sings a bit of the Ronettes’ “Be My Baby” into his 2010 track “Marry You.”
Mars has been doing this version of his show for a while now — including a Vegas residency — so he has it down pat, and it doesn’t appear that he mixes it up much.
And perhaps for a reason: Mars hasn’t released a solo album since 2016’s “24K Magic,” more recently focusing his attention on his Silk Sonic collab with Anderson .Paak. But he has already amassed a stable of megahits to fuel a greatest hits show — Opening with “24K Magic,” into “Finesse,” “Treasure” and “That’s What I Like,” and later “Runaway Baby,” “When I Was Your Man,” “Locked Out of Heaven” and “Just the Way You Are” — and “Uptown Funk” as the encore. (The one nod to Silk Sonic is a stripped down version of “Leave the Door Open,” during an interlude where he runs through his songbook — including “Young Wild and Free,” “Grenade” and “Nothin’ on You.”)
Performing a jukebox with no new songs seems something that seems premature given his youth, and the likelihood that plenty more work is coming. But hey, if he wants to tour right now just for the hell of it, why not. The crowds are clearly there.
And they’re definitely receptive — a credit to the way Mars engages with the crowd in a way that few other performers seem to do these days. In each concert stop, Mars personalizes his banter for the crowd – a little Korean in Seoul, for example. But it’s on an entirely different level in Manila, as Mars peppered the entire evening with choice phrases in Tagalog, to the delight of the massive crowd.
Later, midway through “Calling All My Lovelies,” while talking through a fake, gold-plated 90s style brick cell phone (see, showmanship), he pleads, “Hey baby, I’m in the Philippines right now. It’s been, what? Four to five years? [He last played the Philippines in 2018.] But I still feel the same way about you.” Then he declares, “Miss na kita, mahal!” (“I miss you, my love!”) The Hooligans then chime in, and they turn it into a melodic plea. “Miss na kita, mahal!”
There’s something extra exhilarating in seeing Mars, who’s part Filipino, perform to a Manila crowd. The Philippine Arena holds 55,000 people — the largest mixed-use indoor arena in the world — and Mars’ first night in town was completely sold out. I managed to make it to Night 2, and despite the huge crowds, the show moved surprisingly smooth, like a Bruno Mars chorus. Mars hit the stage around 7:10 – just ten minutes after the advertised start time. And while that may seem early, remember that it was a Sunday night, and going to a Bruno Mars concert is a family affair here. There’s also no alcohol served at concerts in the Philippines, which admittedly took me by surprise. (At first, because the Philippine Arena is owned by a church, I assumed it was the owner’s prerogative – but apparently, it’s the norm.) A concert where no one is buying a $15 (or, 836 Philippine pesos) beer feels unusual, but it also means those crowd screams were all genuine and not the byproduct of lubricated fans.
Because it’s located far outside Manila, the Philippine Arena gets mixed marks from music fans, according to news site Rappler, which notes that transportation to the venue is difficult, and the dining and accommodation options in the area are slim.
On-site food comes from make-shift stands, although via popular vendors like Chowking, McDonald’s, Yellow Cab Pizza Co., Jamba Juice and Shakey’s. The lines are ridiculously long — a sign that the venue still hasn’t figured out how to handle crowds of 55,000. And the arena is a most unusual horseshoe shape, which works fine for concerts, but I imagine makes the basketball games that also take place there a tad awkward — with crowds on just three sides.
A shout out to the Warner Music Philippines team whom I met there, most of whom had never been to the Philippine Arena either. To be safe, we left BGC (Bonifacio Global City) at 2 p.m. in a van in order to make it on time and through the notoriously tough Metro Manila traffic. The traffic was surprisingly light (the route was no worse than driving from Los Angeles to Anaheim), and we got there by 3:30 p.m. Early, yes, but the crowds were already in full effect, purchasing outdoor vendor trinkets (my favorite were the headbands with Bruno’s head on two antennas) and waiting in a lengthy queue to take photos in front of a lighted step-and-repeat photo of the superstar. Inside the arena, the crowd in the arena screamed every time a pre-recorded track ended — sorry, no Bruno yet — families took selfies and fans settled in.
Finally, the lights dimmed, and the band hit the stage. Imagine the roar of 55,000 people in an indoor arena as Mars took the mic. The kid who had once been Elvis had entered the building, and the crowd couldn’t help but fall in love. “Masaya akong nakita kayo!” (“I’m happy to see you!”), Bruno Mars proclaimed. And in the Philippines, on a balmy night in June, the feeling was mutual.
