NEW YORK >> The disco balls were spinning, the club music was pulsing, and on the dance floor, several Filipino audience members were near tears.

It was a Saturday night, and at the Broadway Theatre, “Here Lies Love,” a ­David Byrne-Fatboy Slim musical about the rise and fall of Imelda and Ferdinand Marcos, the former first couple of the Philippines, was preparing for its Broadway opening July 20. In previews, it has drawn a growing stream of Filipino American theatergoers, reeled in by the chance to see their national — and in some cases, their family — history told onstage, close enough for them to literally touch.

“I’ve never been in a play where I have a personal connection” to the story, said Earl Delfin, a 35-year-old Manhattanite. “I felt represented on a New York stage for the first time.”

He got emotional in the opening scenes, he added. “And of course I danced.”

“Here Lies Love,” which opened to critical raves and sold-out crowds at the Public Theater downtown in 2013, arrives on Broadway after sojourns in London and Seattle, each time expanding its house and fine-tuning its immersive staging. But only now has it added a fully Filipino cast — the first on Broadway, organizers say. Also new are a cadre of Filipino producers, including Tony winner Lea Salonga, Pulitzer-winning writer Jose Antonio Vargas, comedian Jo Koy and Grammy-winning musician H.E.R., along with investors from Manila.

“It only felt responsible, to fully engage with the motherland,” said costume designer and creative consultant Clint Ramos, a native of Cebu, Philippines, who has worked on the show since its inception. He is now also a producer.

“Having cultural capital from the motherland, but also financial capital from the motherland, it feels like the authorship and ownership of the show are holding hands very tightly. And that’s a great feeling,” he said.

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The narrative framework of the show has not changed: It still harnesses the gloss of a discotheque — as first lady, Imelda was a denizen of Studio 54 — to reflect the Marcoses’ dizzying rise to power, and the glittery allure of privilege and wealth that led the couple to spend their nation into massive debt, to live lavishly as their constituents suffered.

Arielle Jacobs, a new addition to the cast, plays Imelda, whose journey from naive beauty pageant contestant to sentimental megalomaniac — “Why Don’t You Love Me?” goes a signature song — is the focus of the story. Jose Llana reprises Ferdinand from the Public; his path from charismatic leader to presidential despot is shorter. “If they want to boo Marcos,” Llana said of audiences, “then I think I did my job right.”

There is no book; the action is driven by Byrne’s soaring tunes (with beats by Slim) and by the exuberant choreography of Annie-B Parson, Byrne’s frequent collaborator. A DJ (Moses Villarama) acts as an emcee.

Every day, Ramos said, as the creative team worked out the massive lighting rigs and costume transitions, they also asked the question: “Are we looking at history correctly here?”

The challenge — engineered by Byrne, who hoped that the nightlife setting would give audiences a taste of the limitlessness of power — is formidable. “How do you combine joy with tragedy?” director Alex Timbers said in a joint interview with Ramos.

In place of a stage, the Broadway Theatre was redesigned to create a dance club. Moving platforms carry the performers, with standing theatergoers surrounding them on the floor; catwalks bring the actors within arms reach for those seated above. The choreography encourages audience members to interact with the cast, hip-swiveling beside them in line dances, and playing the part of the faithful at political rallies — moments of civilian joy and swept-along fellowship that are broadcast on giant screens around the space, alongside darker, real news footage and transcripts.

Elizer Caballero, a fan who came from San Francisco, was practically vibrating with delight as he sang and bopped along to the score. The experience of being surrounded by the actors as they told this native story was almost surreal — he felt like part of the show — “but it’s also very poignant,” he said. “Especially for a Filipino American, it’s best to be on the floor. It adds more depth.”

An untranslated moment when Imelda curses at Ferdinand in Tagalog has gotten a more consistent laugh on Broadway than it ever did downtown, cast members said.

Salonga, the first Asian woman to win a Tony (in 1991, for “Miss Saigon”), is stepping in as Aurora Aquino, the mother of Benigno Aquino Jr., Ferdinand’s chief political rival, in a guest spot this summer. It is the first time in her long career she has played a role written as Filipina.

Seeing a production of “Here Lies Love” a few years ago surfaced visceral memories of her childhood in Manila, during the Marcoses’ reign. Performing in it felt overwhelming. “I’m slamming into history,” Salonga said.

Putting a complex, layered story such as this on Broadway — staged like a dance party, no less — could serve as inspiration and empowerment, Salonga hoped. “I want to see other communities of color be able to look at ‘Here Lies Love’ and go, ‘We can do that. We have these stories that we are able to tell. We are going to be able to do this.’ ”

For more information, go to herelieslovebroadway.com.