komentaryo

have cemetery, will thee wed

1. possible precursor: this pre-nuptial photo shoot of rockstar Jay Contreras and Sarah Abad, in a provincial cemetery. it isn’t the cemetery of heroes and had no crosses, but it sure seems like the peg for the irreverence in the current more controversial pre-nup shoot of Ruskin and Priscilla at the Libingan ng mga Bayani. so no, Priscilla and Ruskin weren’t quite “breaking conventions in pre-nup shoots here.” they were in fact doing a copy of a photoshoot that happened in 2009.

Jay & Sarah, 2009, via mangored.com

2. the fact is the Libingan ng mga Bayani is different. it is where our heroes are, soldiers and past presidents and vice presidents, national artists. i get that.

but too, this wasn’t the first time a photo shoot, and a pre-nuptial photo shoot, happened in the Libingan ng mga Bayani. someone must be earning something somewhere, and that person is the first one to disrespect the heroism that this space stands for.

3. a question: do the couples who have their prenup shoots here necessarily disrespect this space? it’s entirely possible that they don’t even think about it, that a cemetery is a cemetery is a cemetery to a couple in search of the perfect setting for their chosen pre-nup theme. and no Ruskin and Priscilla are not the first to do this.

Al & Meg, Jan 2011, via http://anapleaday.blogspot.com

4. so the question becomes: what did Ruskin and Priscilla do differently from these other couples? is it that they were laughing versus brooding? that they were enjoying versus looking into each other’s eyes, or looking into the camera? it seems that it was that they were doing a version of the Sara-Jay prenup photoshoot, complete with cigarettes and alcohol, and some crossdressing, too.

5. this is the apparent extreme that the online public cannot take. it’s the way in which Ruskin and Priscilla’s shoot used the crosses, as something to hug, something to sit on (versus lean on, see Al & Meg above), something to drink to, smoke with. all considered disrespectful and crass and everything in between.

6. of course the drinking and smoking says more about what we think of both as vices, which is also really a matter of taste, as are the cross-dressing photos. that this has been done before in a provincial sementeryo forces us to ask about what we think of our dead in general, what we think of our heroes, and how this recent industry of the pre-nuptial photoshoot now necessarily means a struggle between creativity and decency, at least in our shores.

7. but too maybe we should consider the fact of Angelo Reyes, dishonorable suicide and all, being buried here as “hero.” it might be said that that was the first stone cast at disrespecting all the real heroes at the Libingan ng mga Bayani.

8. PS: i think Nick Joaquin, National Artist, San Miguel Pale Pilsen drinker, would’ve loved that there was finally some alcohol in the house. *clink*

via Wikipedia Commons

kultura

too much Torre 3: on 100 days to heaven

in fact it was a surprise that a television critic would ask for, of all things, a kontrabida. but this is what Nestor Torre asks of ABS-CBN‘s 100 Days to Heaven. he says:

Another unfolding element of the show that needs to be remedied is the general weakness of its kontrabida quotient. Thus far, all we have is a cupidacious relative who wants to take over Anna’s thriving business empire.

yet this lack of a kontrabida actually works for this soap, seeing as it’s the story of business executive Anna Manalastas being sent back to earth by St. Peter so that she may undo all the mean she did while she was alive. Anna was the kontrabida in this story; she returned to earth as a skewed version of herself.

that is to say she returns to earth in the body of little girl Anna, her skills and intelligence and craftiness intact but not easy to utilize on her own. it’s easy to fall for this dynamic of childlike innocence and adult shrewdness all in one kid. this is why it’s also expected that the young Anna played by Xyriel Manabat gets more camera time: Coney Reyes as the adult Anna’s characterization was fixed from the start and would in fact fall into the trap of being kontrabida, period.

via abs-cbn.com
via abs-cbn.com

meanwhile, Xriel’s greatness here is her ability to be both the adult Anna, and a little girl who doesn’t mind playing with other kids. but Torre is unhappy:

On point of stellar coverage, however, Coney ended up with the short end of the stick (so far) in terms of active projection, so the imbalance clearly has to be addressed and remedied.

Fact is, there are dramatic devices and conceits that can be employed to mitigate the situation, and give Coney her due. We trust that the show can utilize those alternate options soon, so the production isn’t deprived of the mature actress’ proven acumen and energy.

in fact Coney does quite well, thank you very much, even proving that there is no short end of the stick, not when that stick is all about brilliance. the little girl Anna is the only person alive for those within the soap; the adult Anna appears for the viewers’ benefit, and is where Coney proves that the reckoning of a woman at the end of her life is one that’s quiet and restrained, one that’s about realizations that do not concede to the standard and stereotypical, that isn’t about regret as it is about an acceptance of faults if not a rationalization of it.

Coney’s appearances while fleeting, are well-thought out, enough to propel the story without weighing it down with long monologues and explanations. once Xyriel appears, the more difficult emotions have been dealt with, and the smarts and taray of little Anna becomes relief, light and comic in the hands of this little girl.

in this sense, it’s perfect that there’s no kontrabida here: for this little girl is not one who’s easy to oppress, and even the latter is already an archetype isn’t it. instead little girl Anna is given a counterpoint in the character of Sophia, con artist and survivor, smart but without viable opportunities at a better life.* other than of course becoming a team with little girl Anna towards changing both their fates, blurry as that still looks.

the uncertainty works here because it’s what’s truthful and real for lives such as Sophia’s, and even more so for someone like Anna. and it’s here that the storytelling of 100 Days to Heaven just works at keeping you hooked to the kindnesses and possibilities at change that it can deliver given the multiple stories it will deal with. this is also why it doesn’t make sense when Torre says:

Finally, the show’s storytelling has yet to dynamically detail how she <Anna> can turn her former victims’ lives around. A general “reformed” feeling of better intentions simply won’t cut it in terms of convincing and thematically affecting storytelling, so more work is needed here, as well.

in the same way that kontrabidas need not exist for life to be difficult or miserable, in the more real complex stories of our lives, it is never clear how things will develop or pan out. and for a soap to finally be this truthful, we should all want to thank the heavens.

* played by Jodi Sta. Maria the complexity with which she deals with Sophia is no surprise; she must surely be the peg for a comeback that’s about acting borne of maturity and skill, you almost forget she was George in Tabing Ilog.

komentaryo

Jose Rizal: simple pero rock

Over Rizal, Monuments to a Hero had all the makings of superficiality. After all, in light of Jose Rizal’s sesquicentennial his monuments seem like the most flimsy of subjects; in light of the more important question of his continued relevance, this exhibit risked the possibility of being absolutely irrelevant.

But there was more here than just photos of Rizal statues, and while the curatorial note speaks of memory and remembering, the sheer number of these monuments across the country surprisingly reminds of a predisposition to forget, where archetypes end up meaning nothing, and portrayals of heroes are but one-dimensional representations.

What Over Rizal reveals is that at some point archetypes can turn out to be real and one-dimensionality can become a foregone conclusion. These photos taken together might in fact give the more discerning spectator a sense of the kind of narrative we collectively build as a nation about Rizal, even and precisely on the level of the seemingly harmless monument.

click here for the rest of it!

kultura

too much Torre 2: on Sam’s twang

in 2006, and just the past week, Nestor Torre had the same complaint about Sam Milby, and the same conclusion. complaint: his lack of Filipino language skills. conclusion: his roles and acting are limited by it. in 2006 he said:

<…> Fil-Ams’ generally limited ability to speak Filipino drastically limits their roles to Balikbayan or rich-kid characters, of whom we’ve had much too many on our local screens. <…> That’s the sort of role Sam played in his recent film, and on his new TV series, he speaks in an awkward mix of English and Filipino yet again. — So much for thespic growth. <…>

in 2011 he says:

To make things worse, Sam adds his continuing difficulty with Tagalog to the movie’s insufficiencies. Yes, he’s “improved” in this regard, but improvement won’t do when competence is required. <…> So what is the actor to do—stop performing while he works really hard at finally surmounting his problem? Yes, that’s what the situation calls for, and as a professional actor, that’s what Sam needs to do, unless he wants to consign and resign himself to more years of playing shallow balikbayan types.

now i know Torre’s generally unhappy with the romantic-comedy, thinking it limits actors such as John Lloyd Cruz’s acting (yes, i will respond to that soon), but it might do him well to go through Sam’s filmography. for even when it is a rom-com, he began doing it better than most from the moment he did the fat guy in Jade Castro’s My Big Love. there also wasn’t much comedy in his character in I Love You Babe where he played an irritable architecture professor, and no comedy at all in And I Love You So where Sam in fact proved he could do a character with not a whole lot of cuteness.

Sam as fat guy Macky Angeles in My Big Love by Jade Castro
Sam as fat guy Macky Angeles in My Big Love by Jade Castro

now it isn’t clear to me which “shallow balikbayan types” Torre’s saying Sam has played, but there was complexity even in his characters as the policeman-wannabe in You Got Me and the US embassy consul in You Are The One. it might not have been as complex as Torre wanted them to be, but that might be a limitation of the genre more than anything else. a genre, we repeat, that he apparently doesn’t like much.

now of course Sam’s smile shouldn’t be a problem. except that for Torre, it is:

And in some of the drama’s challenging scenes, he is emotionally “present” and “committed,” unlike his previous starrers, where he just sort of winged it with his dark, good looks, a smile and a prayer. <…> Oh, yes, that smile—it’s one of the inappropriate visual “crutches” that weakens Sam’s latest portrayal. In dramas, cute smiles even if meant to demote bravery and supportive love are distractions—and even contradictions.

this begs the question: there are no cute smiles in a drama about cancer and dying?* or is it just Sam’s smile that we question? granted he praises Sam as “committed” and “present” here, in the same breath Torre says Sam winged it in his previous films. i’d like to know which ones, and how. because his Chris Panlilio resonates not at all with its darkness but with its free spiritedness, even when yes, he was the dark rocker dude there. his Chef Macky Cordova where he was put in a fat suit has yet to be attempted by any other actor in these shores and is still absolutely enjoyable.

Sam broods as Chris Panlilio in andiloveyouso directed by Laurenti Dyogi
Sam broods as Chris Panlilio in andiloveyouso directed by Laurenti Dyogi

in the end Torre fails at considering the kind of development that’s in Sam’s filmography, which would be fine were he NOT making conclusions and generalizations about Sam’s acting, were he just seeing him in light of this recent film and nothing else. Forever And A Day as he says was a storytelling failure. why drag Sam’s whole film career with it? and why suggest that he stop making movies altogether? that’s to simply look down on all the movies and all the work he’s done so far, yes? i’m the last person who will say Sam’s the best actor in these shores, but i will give him credit for roles, in rom-com and otherwise, that are undoubtedly his. without giving him that credit, all Torre does is criticism un-constructive, and where would we all be with that. 

 
*and while we’re on Forever And A Day, it’s unclear to me why Torre would think this a romantic-comedy when it so obviously wasn’t from the beginning, not when the main female protagonist was revealing so little about herself. had he seen much of the rom-coms we churn out, it would be clear to him that this was farthest from it from the start. too, he obviously didn’t see Chris Martinez’s beautiful glossy portrayal of a cancer patient’s last 100 days which would debunk his idea that medical conditions and gloss don’t go together. goodness.

kultura

on class, the indie film divide, and what unity must mean

the breakdown and aftermath of the Rafael Santos debacle is interesting to me mostly for what’s still unsaid.

1. the fact of Santos’ class, and i use that word not just to point to his lack of social skills (for goodness why would he think a joke like that funny?) and bad manners (he was asked about actors he himself worked with for his film, yes?), but also his social class. that humor, if we’d like to call it that, is one that we know exists, that we might have heard before from rowdy boys in some sosy Starbucks, or kids we’ve taught in our time as teachers, and it’s a humor that isn’t surprising in its existence. what is surprising is that Santos did not turn it off for television, that he actually thought this was an interview that would be so comfortable, his humor would be fine. which bring us back to the fact that he might be a rich kid — a konyo kid in our context who feeds his cat catfood and thinks lowly of skyflakes (equals 1 cup of rice kaya and isang pack no’n!) — but apparently rich doesn’t mean classy.

2. which is what that show Cityscape is, more pang-mayaman than anything. Sir Anton Juan is so correct about pointing out how that host is at fault as well, though there’s the mere existence of lifestyle shows for the elite like this one that’s just wrong in third world Philippines. that show, as is David Celdran’s ANC show, is a bubble that allows the ones who are in it to believe that everyone speaks the same language, thinks the same, live the same, i.e., we’re all rich, you’ll get my humor. is this to defend Santos? of course not. it’s to point out that other than this articulation, there’s a fundamental problem in a media system that creates a venue for him to speak this way, and think that it’s ok. it’s telling of a crisis in media, isn’t it, when the rich can be shameless about their lives and lifestyles, as if they were not in impoverished philippines?

3. some critics of Santos are angry because he draws a divide between film and theater. i say it’s a reminder: despite Eugene Domingo, John Lapus moving from theater to film, and despite numerous mainstream actors moving from mainstream and finding more credibility in theater, that divide still exists. and it’s one that’s painfully and obviously about money, i.e., who will make money for TV and movie executives and therefore will get better pay, and not at all about who does the better job at acting or entertaining.

now that divide gets a little more complex when we talk about the indie film industry of which Santos is part. the indie in fact is theater in light of commercial film; it’s where the more artistic, more creative filmmaking happens, where the better actors are found. i always thought the indie employing theater actors meant a team effort of sorts, one that spoke of both industries’ struggle to prove creativity on the most flimsy of budgets, on a dire lack of support. Santos’ articulation pointed to the fact that the indie film industry has it’s own divide to deal with, and it’s one that’s becoming more and more stark as they go about this business of being “independent.” while it’s true that there are countless writers and directors who financially struggle to get a hold of a camera and finish a film, it’s also difficult to ignore this fact: there are also these kids who go to some sosyal film school, are given cameras on a silver platter and think the struggle is just like wow pare, it’s so hard to make the film i want, coz i want to do a tarantino film or like a kubrick? and the philippines is so not prepared for me.

wow pare, ang tindi ng struggle mo.

4. and lastly, Tanghalang Pilipino’s artistic director Nanding Josef wonders:

And it also makes me wonder what the outsiders, the ‘uzis’ (mga usisera), the non-artists and the critics of the artists make out of this free-for-all, uncensored and free-flowing downpour of expletives, name-calling by the artists against another artist, albeit a beginning artist.

here’s what i think, Sir: while i’ve got a brother and sister-in-law who were part of theater in the Philippines before they left for Holland, and while i’d like to think myself a theater critic at times (though i cringe at that label half the time, especially with gibbs cadiz and exie abola around), as outsider to philippine theater, i think this emotional outpouring of anger and disgust at the issues that underlie Santos’ articulations is the perfect reason to start talking about a theater actors’ union.*

of course in this country insisting on a union is a red flag up for the powers-that-be. but seeing the theater industry’s united stand against this articulation (even those who have forgiven Santos admit to his fault here), i think the theater world’s 100 steps ahead of the fight for what every creative industry worker deserves: a spanking-new union.

the writers among us can only be envious.

 

*and i mean a real one, not like the UMPIL for writers, which doesn’t really function to protect writers or standardize how much we might get paid, but seems more like a fraternity of writers. i mean a real artists’ union, much like the Philippine Models Association of the Philippines (yes, they are smarter than us all), that standardizes pay based on seniority and skill of their members, and is responsible for any of its members not performing their jobs well.