MANILA, Philippines - Mores. Duties. And Wives.

For the initial production of its 22nd season, Tanghalang Pilipino surprises us with a daring choice: “Golden Child” by Asian American dramatist David Henry Hwang.

Hwang is best known for his Tony Award-winning “M. Butterfly.” He has won the Obie Awards three times for his plays: “FOB” (1981), “Golden Child” (1997), and “Yellow Face (2008).

“Golden Child” opens with a familiar device. Andrew Kwong, expecting a child from his third wife, is visited by the ghost of his Grandmother Ahn, who relates to him the story of her own father, Eng Tieng Bin. Her memory unfolds in a flashback.

It is 1918. Father returns home from one of his frequent business trips to the Philippines. His home is Amoy, China, where he lives with three wives. And he drops a bomb. He intends to become “born again.”

By embracing Christianity, Father attempts to venture into what he deems “modern” and “individual.” He is willing to renounce any “traditional” practice, like ancestral image worship, or foot-binding.

Foot-binding is an old custom in China which dictates that women should have small and beautiful feet, like lotus flowers. Young girls were thus subjected to the excruciating process of having their feet bandaged for years until they formed the desirable shape that men hankered for.

Can a man easily relinquish such practices bespeaking a cultural heritage as ancient and as wide as the Yellow River? A man would need courage to stand up against staunch resistance from his own family and community. A man needs wisdom to know “what to keep and what to change.”

When Father orders the unbinding of little Ahn’s feet, he is confronted by his First Wife. She dares him: “Would you marry a woman with unbound feet?”

For a moment, Father is stunned into silence. This is not merely a question of one’s fashion sense, but of the respected patriarchal position that Father represents in his community.

The man of the house then struggles against feudalistic and ancestral obligations, for “in the house of his birth [he] is always a child.”

Liberal triumph?

The play seems to suggest that embracing Christianity is a sign of “modernity,” and that Father’s “conversion” is the effect of his business sojourn in the Philippines, which was then under American colonial rule. It seems to conclude that the act of baptism, after one has received the preaching of a British missionary, is a sign of the unbinding of feudalistic strongholds. Does this signify the eventual triumph of Western liberal practices? Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers?

Father’s conversion to “modernity” and “individuality” could be more plausible if the play provides a lucid picture of the sociopolitical conditions brewing within the China of 1910s. With the death of the dynastic eras and the birth of a new republic, China entered a new phase via the New Culture Movement (aka May Fourth Movement, c 1915-1925), which sought to eradicate old cultural norms, calling for a modern concept of reform that employed scientific and liberal methods. Set against this background, Father’s move toward “modernity” will be strengthened.

Hwang’s story may be personal, or familial, but ultimately it serves as a microcosm of a greater China on the brink of transformation and its struggles to yield to futurity in the form of the “Western” while sacrificing certain traditions. China must be wise to know “what to keep and what to change.”

Despite the seriousness and gravity of the play’s topic and issues, Hwang’s script is laden with strong, biting humor. Most fascinating are the scenes when the three wives come together and exchange barbs. We witness an exquisite battle of wit and power.

The three actresses playing the three wives are incomparable. Irma Adlawan Marasigan (as the First Wife) is, indeed, one of the finest actresses of Philippine theater. In this play, she shines like the Empress Dowager against two concubines and her emperor, projecting a composed and powerfully moving character.

Tina Chilip gains the audience’s laughs (and hearts) with her portrayal of the shameless but irresistible Second Wife, the schemer who plays her card well.

And Liesl Batucan is perfect in the role of the timid Third Wife, who holds closest to her heart the husband’s own. Despite her mousiness, she cannot be underestimated. Her “humility is power.”

With three formidable women in the show, the actor who plays Father must be a Dragon to stand his own ground. Thus, it is a joy to see Arthur Acuña, who was in the May-Yi Theater’s Manila production of “The Romance of Magno Rubio,” in the role of the patriarch.

Shifting from grandmother to child must be tough for Ma. Teresa Jamias, who plays Ahn, old and young. Her performance, though competent, has to be more persuasive.

The clever director of “Golden Child” is Loy Arcenas, who received an Obie citation for his direction of Ma-Yi Theater’s “The Romance of Magno Rubio.”

Arcenas also designed the elegant production of “Golden Child.” Spaces and sections are defined and bordered by heavy curtains and scrims patterned with delicate paper-cuts. These evoke a mood of formality and sophistication, reminiscent of something ancient and grand.

Tanghalang Pilipino’s “Golden Child” is showing at CCP Tanghalang Aurelio Tolentino (CCP Little Theater) until the end of August, with selected shows in Filipino version.