Happy Holidays

Concert with a Cause

Like many Filipinos, I love music. To be specific, I love listening to music; God apparently did not bless me with an awesome voice or enough patience to learn a musical instrument. And I'm one of those guys who can appreciate, even like, all kinds of music (well, except classic country). One kind of music that I really have a soft spot for are the Filipino progressive songs of the 1980s. I first listened to them as a high school junior, during rehearsals for a school production of Ritchie Valencia's Juan Obrero. Our drama teacher thought to use Filipino progressive music to match the play's equally progressive content, hence my co-performers and I got to listen to Joey Ayala, Buklod and Gary Granada for the first time. I remember how their songs--Ayala's "Bata Batuta" and Buklod's "Buhay at Bukid," among others--impressed me with their sobering lyrics, stirring melodies and undeniable sincerity. So different from the ones being played on the radio then.

Last Friday, at Rody's open invitation I went to a special gig at the '70s Bistro. How special? Patatag, one of the country's finest progressive musical groups, performed a benefit gig for one of their members. I've been inclined to go: I've heard Rody, one of the group's founding members, recall his experiences with Patatag to the Bloc before, and I've been quite interested to get a hold of their three-CD set (a little pricey, but definitely worth it) that comes with the ticket to the gig. And I am not the only one: so many people came, packing the place. Not just friends, but fans of the group's music as well. Clearly Patatag has developed a devoted following through the years.

Anyone who watched that night knew why the group has so many admirers. Many of those who came to the gig grew up during the early 1980s--the time Patatag was formed--and as expected the group's songs have great nostalgic value for them. For others, including myself, it's really a pleasure to hear their voices blend so well, singing with such conviction and power in one rousing song after another: "Pagbabago." "Dapat Bawiin." "Wala Nang Tao sa Santa Filomena." Rody had a few strong solo numbers (including the very famous "Manggagawa" from Sister Stella L., which the audience loved). So did the very sweet-voiced Susan Fernandez and Patatag's musical father Jess Santiago. If there's a complaint, it's the fact the mini-concert was too short.

Below is a video of the group singing "Wala Nang Tao sa Santa Filomena" at the gig, which I found on YouTube. See how good they were:



I've been listening to Patatag's three albums since last Friday, and as far as I'm concerned I like the first one, titled Nagbabagang Lupa, the best. Perhaps that album's main theme--the unjust and miserable conditions facing our poor farmers, which I feel very sympathetic about--had a hand in my liking it so much, but to offer that as the reason, I feel, doesn't give the songs justice. "Julian Makabayan"? A pleasure to listen. "Nagbabagang Lupa"? Heartrending. "Tano"? Simple but very powerful. "Wala Nang Tao sa Santa Filomena"? Haunting. "Dapat Bawiin"? Stirring. "Butil ng Palay"? Bittersweet, its melody reminding me of lullabies.

Before they ended the gig last Friday, Patatag announced that they'll be having another concert on May 1--Labor Day--next year. I'm sure a lot of people will come--myself included. Their gig last Friday have made me an earnest admirer.

He's the Man (Asian)!

2008 Man Asian Literary Prize winner Miguel "Chuck" Syjuco

I'm sure most, if not all those in the Philippine literary community have heard--and are rejoicing, I would imagine--by now that Montreal-based Miguel "Chuck" Syjuco won this year's Man Asian Literary Prize--the Asian equivalent of the Booker Prize--for his debut novel Ilustrado. This win naturally reinforces the terrific buzz surrounding the novel after it garnered the Grand Prize at the Palancas last September. Now a lot of people, myself included, eagerly await its publication.

I don't know the man personally, but I can't help but feel happy for him. Imagine, winning at his age (31) and with his very first novel? Very few writers can pull that off. More importantly, I'm happy about Syjuco's win for it may help bring overdue attention to the country as an emerging force in the global literary stage. Maybe the exposure resulting from the victory may get more people, particularly those in the West, interested in the stories we tell and how we write them. Wouldn't that be sweet?

At the same time, I can't help but notice how, judging from the premise and the excerpt, history plays a pivotal role in the narrative. In that sense, it appears Ilustrado is the latest in a very long line of novels where history is a major player. Needless to say, history will remain a top topic for writers to tackle--and that's something I sort of feel ambivalent about, at least as I write this.

In any case, Syjuco winning the Man Asian Literary Prize is a huge encouragement. Not only to him, but also, to a certain extent, to the Philippine literary community. For that, among many things, his victory should be celebrated.

Photo: The Man Asian Literary Prize

A "Barry" Happy Day

What else can I say, honestly? America just made progress--and consequently, history--today. And the world will be better for it.

Congratulations, President-elect Barack Obama. Congratulations, America. Couldn't be happier, or more relieved.

Photo: Obey Giant: Obama

Light My Fire

It may not match the deep emotional power of the sight of Parkinson's-afflicted Muhammad Ali lighting the cauldron at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, but it's as inventive (if not more) as the spectacle of an archer shooting a flaming arrow towards the cauldron at the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona. What a brilliant conclusion to a mind-blowing opening ceremony.

(Photo courtesy of Yahoo!/Reuters)

I wonder how London will top that four years from now. WOW.

Winning Wordsmiths

Earlier this evening, I browsed through the pages of the latest issue of the Philippine Graphic (dated August 11, I believe) and saw that it has already announced its winners for the 2007-2008 Philippine Graphic-Nick Joaquin Literary Contest:

First Prize: Virgilio Harry C. Tejero, for How Baby Doll Became an Amazon.
Second Prize: Raymund P. Reyes, for Marie, 22, DH.
Third Prize: Danton Remoto, for Wings of Desire.

Apparently, the awarding ceremony took place last month, and according to Remoto, he learned about his win in mid-June. Tejero's first-prize win this time marks his fourth, and as such is inducted into the competition's Hall of Fame.

Belated CONGRATULATIONS to all the winners!

Cinemalaya 2008: Namets!

For a film with a plot as thin as a thread and a cast led by two very attractive starlets (Christian Vasquez and Angel Jacob) who perform as if they're still acting in commercials, Jay Abello's Namets! (which means "delicious" in Ilonggo) managed to come across as a charming comic confection. How so? Well, Abello's consistent use of a lightweight, angst-free tone contributes part of the movie's charm, as does director Peque Gallaga's effective acting turn as a gibberish-speaking local kingpin. And as someone born and bred in Manila, the movie's location--Bacolod City--and Ilonggo dialogue (with English subtitles) completely engaged me.

But what I like most about Namets! is that it introduces the audience to Negrosanon cuisine; call it Negrosanon Cuisine 101, if you will. The late, great PDI food critic and Silay City native Doreen G. Fernandez would've approved of the effort, I'm sure. But at some point I felt it remained just that: an introduction. It never really satisfied my hunger to know more about this particular cuisine: the contrasting textures, the different flavors, the culture behind it. In other words, what makes it special, unique? The uproarious vignettes spread throughout the film (the best features the wonderful Ronnie Lazaro as a meat-starved farmer), though enlightening to some extent, helped very, very little in this regard.

In a way, I wish I had watched this movie first; it's the perfect, pleasant appetizer for most of the Cinemalaya full-length entries this year that had served as the main course.

UP NEXT: Ellen Ongkeko-Marfil's Boses.

Cinemalaya 2008: My Fake American Accent

Ten reasons why I admire Onnah Valera and Ned Trespeces's call-center comedy My Fake American Accent:

1. Ned Trespeces is my friend.
2. Mailes Kanapi is an amazing actress.
3. The film's production design looks and feels authentic.
4. Ned Trespeces is my friend.
5. The tagline--"Fake it 'til you make it"--is rather cute.
6. Writer-friends making cameo appearances.
   
7. Ned Trespeces is my friend.
8. The episodic, almost Altmanesque structure suits the material quite well, I think.
   
9. The trailer looks quite intriguing.
10. Ned Trespeces is my friend. Ü
    

UP NEXT: Jay Abello's Namets!

Cinemalaya 2008: Concerto

If watching Ranchero felt like being in unwarranted solitary confinement, watching Concerto felt as if I attended a tertulia. Films set during Japanese Occupation-era Philippines are rather rare, and Paul Alexander Morales's fine film is a welcome addition to that list. It may not be as great as Peque Gallaga's Oro, Plata, Mata (1982), but it's definitely much better than Cesar Montano's earnest Panaghoy sa Suba and Joel Lamangan's unimaginatively titled Aishite Imasu 1941, both released in 2004. The film strongly reminded me of Gilda Cordero Fernando's classic war stories People in the War and A Wilderness of Sweets in its detailed chronicling of a large, middle-class family's struggle to survive the war. Interesting material, indeed, but what made it even more so (at least for me) is that it's based on true stories of the filmmaker's own family.

Concerto boasts of several plusses. Morales's assured helming is one; here's one director who obviously knows his material. The production design impresses, despite the movie's very limited budget. The actors are well cast, particularly Meryll Soriano in a performance that's more restrained than usual and Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino, who very skillfully avoids reducing her character--the ever-patient and understanding matriarch--into a two-dimensional saint. And it has several wonderfully staged scenes: the fantastic sepia-toned introduction, the mother's face illuminated by mirror-reflected sunlight, the title event itself. On the downside, I have to agree with Gibbs in his mini-critique of the film: it could stand further editing.

But what really struck me most about Concerto is its strong, almost insistent pacifist viewpoint. It's so strong, the United Nations, if it becomes an award-giving body like the Oscars, would give the Best Picture statuette to the film. Don't get me wrong: there's nothing wrong in espousing a pacifist stance. But there were instances I felt it threatened to undermine narrative logic and common sense. This is most obvious in the final scene: an American soldier, a Japanese civilian, and Filipinos all friendly with one another and enjoying themselves at a party held inside the reopened De La Torre house soon after the war ended. The mood was too forgiving. And there are some details that the director didn't account for, like the sudden appearance of Mr. Akiya at the concerto: where did he come from?

The film's point cannot be denied: one can transcend differences and maintain his/her humanity, even in a heinously inhuman time. And in this case, the universal language--music--proves to be the key. Concerto is an ultimately stirring ode to pacificism.

UP NEXT: Onnah Valera and Ned Trespeces's My Fake American Accent.

Cinemalaya 2008: Ranchero

Boy, do I really regret watching this movie first. It has plot holes as large as the ones you find at Loyola Memorial Park. And to think the fine opening scene holds such promise. A close friend, Mon Sarmiento (who conducted extensive research at Bilibid years ago in penning his Palanca-winning screenplay Maria at Magdalena), watched the movie with me, and he sighed and grumbled all throughout: where’s the sense of a regimented existence, of claustrophobia? And why is the dialogue between longtime rancheros (slang for prison cooks) Ricardo (a miscast Archie Adamos) and Miyong (a wasted Garry Lim) sounds so contrived, sounds as though they’ve just met? It’s almost criminal.

That's not the end of it. For a prison, even a provincial one, it looks disconcertingly bright and clean. And that closing, lingering image of the posters of the Good Shepherd and the Crucifixion--care for (a sacrificial) lamb, anyone?--pasted side by side on a kitchen wall simply screams of OVERSTATEMENT! But what makes Ranchero an appalling movie is Michael Christian Cardoz's violations of the basic rules in crafting drama. A protagonist viewers didn't get to know at all because the director had drawn him so poorly: they never even learn of the nature and circumstance of Ricardo's crime that slapped him with a ten-year jail term in the first place. A protagonist with no real problem to confront and overcome (he's scheduled to be released from prison the next day, for Chrissakes!). No tension at all, especially in the first half. No fresh insight offered on life behind bars. No kidding: it's that bad.

If making a bad movie is a crime, then Cardoz deserves some serious confinement.

UP NEXT: Paul Alexander Morales's Concerto.

Cinemalaya 2008: Moving Foreword

Last night, the five-member jury--film critic and PDI editor Lito Zulueta and actor Cesar Montano among them--of the Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival announced its winners in a less-than-polished awards ceremony at the CCP Main Theater:

FULL-LENGTH FILM DIVISION: Film: Jay. Special Jury Prize: Brutus. Audience's Choice: 100. Director: Chris Martinez, 100. Actor: Baron Geisler, Jay. Actress: Mylene Dizon, 100. Supporting Actor: Yul Servo, Brutus. Supporting Actress: Eugene Domingo, 100. Screenplay: Chris Martinez, 100. Cinematography: Brutus and Huling Pasada (tie). Film Editing: Jay. Production Design: Baby Angelo. Original Musical Score: Brutus. Sound: Ranchero.

SHORT FILM DIVISION: Film: Andong. Special Jury Prize: My Pet. Audience's Choice: God Only Knows. Director: Mark V. Reyes, God Only Knows. Screenplay: Rommel Tolentino, Andong. Special Jury Citation: Angan-Angan (Dreams).

CONGRATULATIONS to all the winners, most especially to fellow playwright Chris Martinez! Ü

What a week. A week--or more accurately, ten days--wherein I managed to watch a couple of films--some awesome, others not so much, but all more interesting than what the mainstream movie industry has been churning out today--that once again strengthen one's hopes that there's still hope yet for Philippine cinema.

Unlike last year, when I watched three competing features—Jim Libiran’s Tribu, Jade Castro’s Endo and Aureaus Solito’s Pisay—and did so long after the festival ended, this year I watched seven full-length films in competition, plus two in exhibition. Sad to say, I failed to catch any of the screenings for Paul Sta. Ana and Alvin Yapan’s Huling Pasada and Francis Xavier E. Pasion’s Jay; friends and insiders I’ve talked to discouraged me from watching Joel Ruiz’s Baby Angelo. Good thing all the competing full-length features will be screened at the UP next week.

Just like what the photo posted above says, "Ano'ng kwento mo? (What's your story?)" was this year's festival theme. It's ironic in a way: all the competing films--save for one or two--suffered in one way or another from narrative problems. Like Michael Christian Cardoz's Ranchero.

Virgin Labfest 4: A General Review

NOTE: This slightly bitchy, hopefully humorous review may contain certain details that are not suitable for overly sensitive, humorless theater practitioners. Reader discretion is advised.

In one of his introductory speeches almost two weeks ago, Rody (Vera) admitted how surprised he was at how the Virgin Labfest has lasted as long as it did; he really didn't expect it to go beyond the second edition. The fact that it did is an encouraging sign, I believe. It means there are people outside the local theater community who genuinely believe in the festival, in the reputation it has earned. If nothing else, where else can you find a collection of untouched plays that can provoke your senses or challenge your intellect beyond your comfort level?

As expected, the Virgin Labfest 4 had eighteen plays of varying quality that tackled a wide range of themes, with most of them conventionally and straightforwardly mounted. Naturally, all the plays had flaws, and only a handful managed to compensate.

Bart Guingona tried but ultimately failed to match May Bayot's modulated performance in Layeta Bucoy's Las Mentiras de Gloria, which benefitted from Tuxqs Rutaquio's restrained direction. Actors, most memorably Amihan Ruiz and Nar Cabico, had a field day sinking their teeth into their roles as underworld loonies in debuting Carlo Garcia's surreal, ultimately shallow black comedy Ang Mga Halimaw. And men with a fetish for virginal and leggy schoolgirls may be the most receptive audience for the bland fluff that was Hase Hiroichi's Amoy ng Langit.

Jonathan Tadioan was ferociously good as a corrupt congressman and fraternity alumnus in Tim Dacanay's intriguing, funny (thanks in great part to that ridiculous frat chant with matching raised-fist, one-leg-stretched-back pose) and, according to National Artist for Literature F. Sionil José, sophisticated (Yeah. Fine. Whatever.) Pamantasang Hirang, which could've benefitted from a stronger sense of horror and a more assertive feminine perspective from director Hazel Gutierrez. And Allan Lopez, together with director J. Victor Villareal, giddily put his actors (Abner Delina Jr. and Katherine Sabate this time around) and the audience through brainbending hell as usual in his exploration of psychological torture in the oddly titled Masaganang Ekonomiya.

I can't really comment on National Artist for Literature F. Sionil José's "play" Dong-Ao, a sequel of sorts to the last Rosales novel Mass, because I slept through it. Ü But seriously, Hammy--I mean, Tommy--Abuel was so, well, hammy as a pompous senator that I felt as if I was at Santi's Deli Shop or at a supermarket's cold-cuts section. If I only knew, I could've brought some slices of bread, mayonnaise and lettuce. Truth to tell, this "play" inflicted more needless torture on the audience than Masaganang Ekonomiya.

Speaking of ham, meat--muscular and otherwise--are on display in George Vail Kabristante's Ang Kwento ng Menginga ng New York City na Kamukha ng Bee-stung Lips in Julia Roberts, about a Filipino tranny living in the Big Apple who had his, well, "meat down there" surgically removed so that the hunky love of his/her life can finally push his "meat" into him/her. That, or it's another hilarious Ricci Chan stand-up performance in disguise, for it sometimes felt that way. Good thing I didn't have that feeling at all in Rogelio Braga's thought- and laughter-provoking Ang Bayot, Ang Meranao, at ang Habal-Habal sa Isang Nakakabagot na Paghihintay sa Kanto ng Lanao del Norte. It worked onstage in a way that it never did on paper, and I must credit the first-rate performances of Joey Paras and Arnold Reyes, the erstwhile Didi and Dodong, respectively, of ZsaZsa Zaturnnah: Ze Musikal for it. As for J. Dennis Teodosio's Gumamela, it just wilted.

Thanks to Ana Valdes-Lim's appalling direction and a horribly miscast Mary Emeral O'Hara, the arguably promising ideas Debbie Ann L. Tan offered in Mga Babaeng Toobright regrettably got flushed down the toilet, along with lead actress Wenah Nagales's considerable talents. And in Koh Jun Eiow's very fascinating Ang Dalawa Niyang Libing, the cast's overdependence on Malaysian broadsheets as props unnecessarily distracted from the play's strong subject matter. Thankfully, nothing of the sort marred Floy Quintos's rich, well-realized Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna. The fabulous Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino was captivating as a president recasting herself as a queen while Tuxqs Rutaquio shone as a queen of another kind, but just as dignified and refined. I hope the playwright further develops the play into a full-length one; the material is that rich, that complex.

As for the collection of children's plays, Argel Tuason's generally diverting Bru-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, Bru-hi-hi-hi-hi-hi could've been more technically polished, while director Cats Racsag made the most out of Job Pagsibigan's brief Uuwi Na ang Nanay Kong si Darna. On the other hand, Njel de Mesa did a very commendable job in adapting, directing and scoring the entertaining, visually striking Terangati. As last year's Mga Obra ni Maestra has proven, he can truly carve out a really big niche for himself in children's theater in the country.

So, after all that has been said and done:

BEST ACTORS: Joey Paras and Arnold Reyes, in Rogelio Braga's Ang Bayot, Ang Meranao, at ang Habal-Habal sa Isang Nakakabagot na Paghihintay sa Kanto ng Lanao del Norte (tie). (Runners-up: Jonathan Tadioan, in Tim Dacanay's Pamantasang Hirang and Tuxqs Rutaquio, in Floy Quintos's Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna.)

BEST ACTRESS: Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino, in Floy Quintos's Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna. (Runner-up: May Bayot for Layeta Bucoy's Las Mentiras de Gloria.)

BEST CAST: The cast of Carlo Garcia's Ang Mga Halimaw: JK Anicoche, Amihan Ruiz, Kristine Balmes, Alvin Obillo, Nar Cabico, Isab Martinez, and Oscar Garcia.

BEST EYE CANDY: Male: Diogenes Alejandro, in George Vail Kabristante's Ang Kuwento ng Menginga ng New York City na Kamukha ng Bee-stung Lips in Julia Roberts. (Runner-up: Joselito Riguerra, in George Vail Kabristante's Ang Kuwento ng Menginga ng New York City na Kamukha ng Bee-stung Lips in Julia Roberts.). Female: Mica Froilan, in Hase Hiroichi's Amoy ng Langit. (Runner-up: Tara Cabaero, in Hase Hiroichi's Amoy ng Langit.)

BEST PROP: The crown in Floy Quintos's Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna. (Runner-up: the wooden paddle in Tim Dacanay's Pamantasang Hirang.)

BEST REPRESENTATION OF A BODY PART: Gem Padilla, as the Menginga in George Vail Kabristante's Ang Kuwento ng Menginga ng New York City na Kamukha ng Bee-stung Lips in Julia Roberts. (Runner-up: Vera's stiff cock, in Allan Lopez's Masaganang Ekonomiya.)

BEST USE OF MUSIC: Njel de Mesa, for his musical score for Terangati. (Runner-up: Floy Quintos, for his use of Judy Garland's Somewhere Over the Rainbow in his Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna.)

BEST DIRECTOR: Floy Quintos, for his Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna. (Runner-up: Njel de Mesa, for Terangati.)

BEST PLAY: Floy Quintos's Ang Kalungkutan ng mga Reyna. (Runner-up: Layeta Bucoy's Las Mentiras de Gloria.)

Plus, a special award from a well-known food company:

THE PUREFOODS FIESTA HAM AWARD FOR ACTING: Tommy Abuel, in F. Sionil José's Dong-Ao. (Runner-up: Charissa Litton, in Debbie Ann L. Tan's Mga Babaeng Toobright.)

MABUHAY sa mga organizers at participants ng Virgin Labfest 4!

Sing Out "Sister"

Piling-pili lang ang mga pelikulang Pilipino na masasabi kong mga paborito ko. Isa na rito ang Sister Stella L. (1984, Regal Films), na idinerehe ni Mike de Leon at tampok sina Jay Ilagan, Tony Santos Sr., Laurice Guillen at, ang pinakasikat sa kanilang lahat, Vilma Santos. Para sa akin, gustong-gusto ko ang pelikulang ito bilang isang character study ng isang karaniwang madre na unti-unti naging isang di-karaniwang aktibista noong siyang nagsimulang makibaka sa isang grupo ng mga nagwewelgang manggagawa. Gustong-gusto ko rin ang pelikula dahil sa mga awit na nilikha nina Pete Lacaba at Ding Achaoso. Isa na dito ang "Aling Pag-Ibig Pa," na kinanta ni Pat Castillo sa closing credits:

Aling pag-ibig pa ang hihigit kaya
Sa pag-ibig ko sa iyo, bayan ko?
Sa hirap at ginhawa
Sa ligaya't dalita,
Ako'y kasa-kasama mo.

Kung ang gintong palay ay kumakaway
Katabi mo ako sa bukid, bayan ko.
Kung tigang ang lupa
At 'di ka makaluha
Ako ang magdidilig.

Kung ang bulaklak ay humahalimuyak
Igagawa kita ng kwintas, bayan ko.
Kung magbababanta ang bagyo't sigwa
Ako'y may kubong ligtas.

May pag-ibig pa bang higit na dakila
Sa pag-ibig ko sa iyo, bayan ko?
Wala na nga, wala
Wala na nga, wala
Wala na nga, wala.

Isa pang awit mula sa Sister Stella L. ay ang "Sangandaan." Kinanta din ito ni Pat Castillo sa pelikula. Pero sa YouTube video na ito, si Noel Cabangon naman:

'Di ko maiwasang maalala ang mga kantang ito ngayong araw, sa mga nangyayari sa ating bansa ngayon. 'Di ko ring maiwasang maging malungkot: may ibang pag-ibig nang humigit pa sa pag-ibig sa bayan; at ang ating bansa, nananatili pa rin sa sangandaan. Sabi nga ng bida sa katapusan ng pelikula: "Kung hindi tayo kililos, sino ang kililos? Kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?"

Cool Cook

David Cook, American Idol 2008
(Photo by Mario Anzuoni for Reuters)

Wow. Contrary to expectations, America voted for the better David. It voted for what I feel is the best American Idol since Carrie Underwood. So glad. And relieved, actually; the results made up for last night's less-than-stellar show. I mean, using a boxing metaphor to describe the duel of the Davids is appallingly corny, but to hammer it down at every chance it gets? Come on!

No, I don't feel that bad for Archuleta. No doubt, the kid is gifted with a great voice and should have a terrific career ahead of him (as long as his old man doesn't meddle too much). But thanks in part to the hype the show had built up for him, he has become so overrated. He just doesn't excite me as a performer. He doesn't have the electrifying verve, the cool vibe that Cook has.

Nice to see the other finalists again, especially my other favorite, Carly Smithson. In a perfect world, she and Cook should be the Top Two. I feel quite sorry for Amanda Overmeyer: her face, her body language seemed to say: "Fuck, let's get this over with. I'm so not into this crap." I seriously doubt if most of the eliminated contestants will be able to use the exposure they got on the show to jumpstart their career. Too many former Idol wannabes tried, and failed miserably. Carly and Brooke White may have some prospects, but I think Syesha Mercado has the best chance.

The finale was just OK. Good to see Seal there, and Byran Adams, and George Michael. But the obviously aging Donna Summer (her being aided by two guys so she could tread down the steps without tripping is kinda pitiful)? Not really. Ditto with Reynaldo Lapuz. Even the manipulated footage of Gladys Knight singing--what else?--"Midnight Train to Georgia" (didn't she sang this with last season's female finalists, well, last year?). Manipulated, because Ben Stiller, Jack Black and Robert Downey Jr. were put in there instead of the Pips to basically make goofballs of themselves. It's not even funny. I remember thinking while watching this: Why Robert? Why do this? You're much better than this.

So much ink has been spilled, so much spit has been wasted in claiming that this season is the show's best so far. Granted, this one is way better than last year. But the best so far? Yeah right. In my mind, the fifth season--where Chris Daughtry, Paris Bennett, Elliot Yamin, Katharine McPhee and (oh alright) Taylor Hicks were introduced to the world--is still tops. That season has so many unforgettable performances. Yes, Season Seven has its share, but honestly, there's only one song I liked enough to download: Carly's take on Dolly Parton's "Here You Go Again."

Again, very happy with the results. David Cook deserves the title.

Palanca Pass-up

Even with the very rare deadline extension offered by the Palanca Foundation, I still failed to submit anything worthwhile this year.

This is only the second time. The first time, way back in 2003, the UP Writers Workshop played a key part. This time around, I have no one, nothing to cite as a reason for not joining.

I did plan to join this year, though. Spent almost a month penning a short, rather personal play for consideration for the next Virgin Labfest and planned on entering it to the Palanca competition, only to reconsider after I had it read and assessed during a recent Writers Bloc session. Afterwards, I tried to revise a short, short, short story into a passable entry to the Short Story for Children category, but craft considerations got the better of me. Early this afternoon, I took a good, hard look at what I wrote so far and concluded that it's just not worth spending a hundred bucks to have it notarized. Well, as they say, there's always next year.

It's funny. Now that I think about it, I never submitted an entry which I wrote expressively for the Palancas. Most, if not all of the creative stuff I wrote, I did so for other reasons: for one of my classes, for the chance to be part of a theater laboratory festival. There was a time I wrote plays and stories simply because I like to, because I enjoy it. But that's no longer the case, not for some time now. That should alarm me. But it doesn't. I wonder why.

Truth to tell, it's not only creative writing that I have lost some joy in doing. Reading books and watching movies too. Even my job. The only thing I like doing now lately is take lots of pictures, edit some of them in Photoshop and post them in my Flickr account. And watch American Idol (and just to digress: Jason Castro has got to go. Really. And: Go David Cook!).

God, the last time I was this--what's the word?--joyless, it was back in high school, during my junior year. That year, I was depressed. Clinically. I even had death wishes back then. Seriously. That's how bad it was. Thank God I don't have them now.

But really, I have to snap out of this. I still have a thesis to finish.

Beauties and the Beasts

I could talk about the 22nd anniversary of EDSA Uno and the rallies taking place today, but I'm not exactly in the mood to be worked up about it right now, you know. Not with the shit our politicians have under their heels and on their hands at the moment. Don't want to go there, no. So instead, I'll talk about something equally important, but lighter--this year's Oscars!

(Left to right: Best Actor Daniel Day-Lewis, Best Supporting Actress Tilda Swinton, Best Actress Marion Cotillard, and Best Supporting Actor Javier Bardem. Photo courtesy of Yahoo!)

My thoughts? First: Thank God that it's shorter this time (and thank God the Velvet Channel aired relatively few commercials). And I'm happy for the Oscars the Coen Brothers collected this year; I've enjoyed both Fargo and O Brother, Where Art Thou? immensely (obviously I haven't watched No Country for Old Men yet--but that will change very soon). Ditto for Daniel Day-Lewis' oh-so-deserving second Best Actor win for the remarkable There Will Be Blood. And I know that the two J.B.'s of the Coens' film--Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin--are, like, BFF (best friends forever) now, but for a millisecond there I thought the buddies were going to do some serious face-sucking when the Spaniard bussed Barbra Streisand's stepson on the cheek following the former's Best Supporting Actor win. And poor Amy Adams: where are the CGI pigeons, rats and roaches when you needed them? Then again, it might freak out the audience.

But I think it's quite safe to say the females provided the telecast's most memorable moments. Topping the list is Jon Stewart's magnificent gesture to let Best Original Song co-winner Marketa Irglova (for the beautiful "Falling Slowly" from Once) have her speech. Best winning reaction goes to the gorgeous Marion Cotillard upon winning Best Actress for La Vie en Rose. And best speech, for me, goes to Best Supporting Actress Tilda Swinton:

"... and George Clooney, you know, the seriousness and the dedication to your art, seeing you climb into that rubber bat suit from Batman & Robin, the one with the nipples, every morning under your costume, on the set, off the set, hanging upside down at lunch--you rock, man!"

Love that bit. Sadly, I can't say the same about her, er, gown.

All in all, not bad. Not bad at all. Much better than last year. And waaaaay much better than the year before that.

Northern Exposure

Stone, sand, sea and sunlight--just some of the things I have been exposed to for four full days recently. Ü

Flabbergasted on a Friday

In the company I work for, one of the duties I volunteered to perform is to distribute copies of the publication I edit to some proven tourist destinations in the City of Manila. That's what I did today, and I've been doing this since last summer.

At these destinations, I sometimes make it a point to ask the person in charge to make sure to hand out the copies only to foreign guests, since they're the target readers of the publication. Whenever I make this request, I do so as courteously as possible, adopting a pakikiusap kind of tone. Almost all those I have talked to have kindly obliged. None have raised violent objections, as far as I can remember.

Until earlier this morning.

In the Visitors' Center of a particular destination, there's this sour-faced female staffer who has not been too friendly with me every time I would drop by and leave copies. In fact, she seemed rather resentful of my presence. Naturally, she wasn't thrilled to see me this morning, ready to leave copies of the publication's latest issue. I don't exactly recall the details now, but after she signed the receipt form I somewhat remarked that I just came from the office of her immediate superior, which was across from the VC, and gave him three complimentary copies. I mentioned that in an effort to explain that I was planning to give fifteen copies, but since I already gave three to him I decided to leave a dozen instead, especially since I was carrying a limited number of copies. She became exasperated almost at once, asking me why didn't I let him sign the receipt. I calmly replied that it has been my practice to have whoever accepts the copies for distribution (also) sign the form.

Her exasperation barely in check, she started talking to me in an argumentative tone. Some of the things she said really took me aback: "Tuwing pupunta ka rito, parating may problema... Pati 'yung doon sa ticket booth, nagagalit na rin dahil inaaway mo... Kung ayaw mong mga Pinoy ang makakuha niyan (the publication), huwag ka nang mag-iwan dito..." The thought of me fighting with the staffer manning the ticket booth flabbergasted me: me, fighting?! I don't remember now the rest of what she had spewed.

I must have felt really insulted, for I retrieved the copies and left the VC almost in a huff. But I quickly decided to go back and leave some copies anyway, just so that the publication will have a presence there. To her credit, the staffer still managed to accommodate me, but grudgingly. On my end, I think I managed to conduct myself as professionally as I could, considering the circumstances. I left the copies on a desk on the way out.

The incident bothered me throughout the rest of my distribution duties in the area. So much so that I later paid a visit to the administrative officer handling the management of the visitors' centers in the area and recounted--and rationalized--the incident to her. I prefaced it by asking her if there are existing guidelines or policies or general practices regarding the distribution of travel publications, like the one I edit. The officer sensibly didn't take sides, but she did explain the situation to me from the staffer's point of view, which I entertained with a very open mind.

As I write this, I can't help but think how I sometimes come across to other people. Someone once told me that I tend to be bossy at times; did that surface in my earlier dealings with the irate staffer? Had I been too insistent on having my way sometimes? Am I challenging to deal with, professionally? Was I insensitive to other people's position, to their feelings? My (feeble) defense? I really didn't know. I really didn't mean to. Maybe a friend of mine was right: for me to "get" it, someone has to tell it to my face.

Can I be that dense? Yeah, I guess. I guess I'm the kind of guy that sometimes need to be told whenever I have done or been doing something wrong. Unfortunately, most Filipinos, being generally known for avoiding confrontation as much as possible, tend to employ the subtle route, which sometimes doesn't really work, especially with me in certain situations.

Such a lot of stuff to ponder on.

But I'm sure of one thing: I'm not going back to that VC. I don't need that kind of drama.

Big-Bang Beginning

Here's hoping for a better and brighter 2008. For all of us.