In a little room at the top of a faded-pink strip mall, above the bar and the Filipino banquet hall and the constant stream of muffler noise and bass boosters from Farrington Highway, a group of kids from the "Pupus" is trying to save the world. Or at least Waipahu.

It is the classic story of sweet-faced children who know too well the hard side of life, who think putting on a play might change things for the better. Countless movies have been made around that premise. This time, it's real. And it might work.

Bayne Su'a, Kaleo Perkins and Kaleo's older brother, Bert, practice their entrance. They tower over some of the tiny girls in the show. The boys wear black gloves and somber expressions as they kaholo into place.

Kaleo says he's not an actor, but none of the cast believes him. He says being in a play has taught him, among other things, how to keep quiet for a long time. No one believes him on that one, either. But when it comes time to sing, he sings his heart out.

Auntie Fay Uyeda, executive director of the Communities in Schools program, shines a small flashlight at the singers. Someone is going to lend them a spotlight for the performance but, for now, this is how they practice. Uyeda helped the kids structure the show, drawing from interviews with elders in their community and poetry they wrote about their lives. The production is a mixture of dramatic scenes, dance pieces and songs that show life in the Pupus, the low-income housing part of Waipahu bounded by Pupukahi, Pupumomi and Pupupuhi streets, as hard but not without hope.

"This is a violent town," says Bert.

"No," says sister Leilani, "this is a violent time."

"We have no idea how this is going to come out," Uyeda says. "We pray a lot."

If effort and intention are the measures, the show will be a success. The performers, from the hulking boys to the dainty girls to the sturdy aunties and the Catholic nun from Tanzania who found her way into this 'ohana, are completely committed. The show is raw and honest, heartbreaking and life-affirming. People will cry tonight.

The kids have written some breathtaking lines:

"We still have the old folks who know our history. They're the ones who never complained when life was really tough and 'no more' meant NO MORE. When school was a luxury and privilege. When 'shame' was when you DIDN'T share what you had."

Tickets to tonight's performance are 50 cents for general admission; 25 cents for children 11 and younger.

"People ask how come we don't make it at least a dollar or something," CIS staff member Lani Perkins says. "But we want our people in our community to be able to come."

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.