header image

HOME

This is the blog of Ian Rosales Casocot. Filipino writer. Sometime academic. Former backpacker. Twink bait. Hamster lover.

Email: icasocot(at)gmail.com

Interested in What I Create?



Bibliography

Sunday, February 26, 2023

entry arrow10:59 AM | Tabi Po

I spent the morning bingeing on Mervin Malonzo’s Tabi Po series! I’ve meant to finish the three books since the first volume came out in 2014 [and the last in 2017], so I finally set aside time this Sunday morning to do just that. Thanks to Michael Reyes of 451°F Books and Café [ IG: @451bookscafedgte ] for lending me the last two volumes so that I could binge!





I find it fascinating that Jose Rizal’s novels continue to be the template for many contemporary stories, including the latest run of GMA’s Maria Clara at Ibarra. Malonzo’s take is not exactly the novels, but he takes many of the characters to populate his tale of aswangs in Hispanic Philippines.


There’s one particular excerpt in Isyu 3 that struck me the most, because it sums up very well the Filipino in the post-EDSA period. The old revolutionary Matanglawin is attempting to rescue Isagani from a mob about to lynch him for the cannibalistic murders of Padre Damaso and Padre Salvi, among others [who are actually the victims of Elias, the main aswang of the series]. Matanglawin attempts to placate them by telling them that if it were true Isagani is guilty of these deaths, then he should be considered a hero for saving them from the systemic abuse these people were actually guilty of. The town people’s response is telling. This is the stuff of the Marcos Restoration.


Labels: , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, July 12, 2020

entry arrow12:00 PM | Talagbusao Today



I’ve been thinking about Budjette Tan and KaJo Baldisimo’s Mass Murders, the third Trese book, since 2016. This volume was prescient. Guess who is Talagbusao incarnate...

Labels: , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Saturday, December 21, 2019

entry arrow3:48 PM | Remembering Comics Legend Gerry Alanguilan [1968-2019]

What news to wake up to, and I'm still reeling from the shock. Despite getting missives from people to pray for Gerry a day or two ago. And despite knowing that he has been sick for some time now -- but still at it relentlessly pursuing stories, even while in bed rest. But this is the thing about legends: we think they are invulnerable to time and expiration simply because what they have given us is so outsized, so beautiful, so indelible they should really be immortal. But once in a while, we get reminders that even the best of us leave us. But what they leave behind is legend, and a body of work that will remain testament to that legend. I've never met the writer and comics artist [and glorious meme] Gerry Alanguilan. Compared to many of my friends and contemporaries, I came late to his work, stumbling onto Wasted only in college in the late 1990s when a friend foisted a volume of that landmark work in my hands and I was instantly hooked. Since that time, I've followed his Komikero blog, became email and Facebook friends with him, rejoiced in his efforts to collect [and give honor] to Filipino comics legends, and was ecstatic when he was finalist for the Eisner Award for Elmer. In 2004, I even asked him to contribute a short comics for Sands and Coral -- and he did, and this will soon see print in Sands & Coral 2020, a little late perhaps but still. Every semester, I teach Wasted without fail in my Philippine literature class, happy to introduce him to every new generation of young Sillimanians who need to know there are galvanizing Filipino storytellers like him. One of my students even composed music inspired by the book -- and Gerry loved that immensely. I've always thought of him as a very generous artist, someone whose pursuit of the creative was unparalleled. He was always an inspiration. Gerry Alanguilan will be missed.

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Thursday, September 01, 2016

entry arrow9:11 PM | David Villalva's 3 Ways to Create a Villain Who Audiences Want and Heroes Need



Maybe Marvel Studios should take note of this, because their villains regularly suck.

Labels: , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Wednesday, June 22, 2016

entry arrow11:15 PM | Pink Spandex! Or: Enjoying Gay Comics

Exactly last year, Comic Book Resources celebrated Pride Month by coming up with a list of 63 LGBT characters in the DC and Marvel Universes -- which is well and good, but the topic has never really interested me. My geekiness swings to a totally different beat, and although I enjoy my cinematic incarnations of these worlds, I am not invested as into the minutiae of DC and Marvel as some of my friends are. Is Spider-Man gay? Eh, I don't care. (He's not, right?)

But I like comics. And there are some gay-themed comics I've found myself really loving, first for the magnificence of the art, and second for the way they become a kind of mirror (often funny and surreal) to my gay self in the way only comics could be.

The Boy in Pink Earmuffs has a list of these LGBT-themed comics, most of them exclusively for the web, but my favourites [most of them first recommended to me by my boyfriend who's a big comics fan] are...

  

  

Alex Woolfson and Winona Nelson's Artifice is a surprise and a delight: a delicious science fiction piece about an android sent by corporate masters to eliminate a team of scientists who know a little too much about a certain project, the surprise is that he fails spectacularly from completing the mission when he meets one of his targets, and... Love happens. (Read the comics here.) Meanwhile, EK Weaver's The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal is the story of two lost young men who find themselves unexpectedly sharing a road trip adventure into self-discovery. And love. (Read the comics here.) Then there is Alex Woolfson, Adam DeKraker, and Veronica Gandini's The Young Protectors which gives us the definite "gay" in the superhero genre by making us follow the life of one young super whose very dilemma is that the man he loves ... is the super villain he must fight. Love conquers all. (Read the comics here.) And finally, Gisele Lagace and Dave Lumsdon's Ménage à 3 is just a zany comic strip following a whole cast of characters -- all young, all beautiful, with all manner of gender identity -- as they stumble in and out of each other's beds, defining once and for all the glory of sexual fluidity. Love transcends! (Read the comics here.)

Go and read! In the meantime I'm trying to read this Japanese bara manga one-shot, Mentaiko/ Itto's The Holy Night [totally NSFW]...




#PrideMonth2016

Labels: , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



entry arrow3:00 PM | Celebrating Difference



[Reposted from Afro Punk]

Pretending we’re not different erases the fact that society inherently privileges/disadvantages everyone. That's not only problematic, but does nothing to help the challenges we all face. Comic by Elias Ericson.


PrideMonth2016

Labels: , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, May 08, 2016

entry arrow8:47 PM | Andres and Amorsolo



There's nothing slight to Elbert Or's comic diptych The Amazing True-ish Story of Andres Celestial / The Life & Death of Amorsolo Esperanza, Faith Healer of Talinghaga -- a slim double volume that bills itself as a compendium of two short tall tales, out from Anino Comics. I have always loved the work of Mr. Or, who pens an online comic titled Homeycomb. There is a certain lightness to his work that belies the whimsy and the wisdom that makes up the look and the themes of his work. This book is no exception. In his blurb to the book, fellow comics writer Robert Magnuson claims that "Elbert Or strikes a chord" and that "within these few deceptively simple pages, he lays down the complex roadwork that leads a boy into making that necessary and fulfilling turn into manhood." In the Amorsolo Esperanza section, Or gives us the story of a faith healer from a town called Talinghaga (which is Tagalog for "metaphor"), and makes cunning use of folk tradition (the traditional hilot) and stark historical narrative (the ravages of World War II and their aftermath) to flesh out a story of being true to oneself, and following one's dream. It is a minor epic of that thematic arc, spanning the years to make us feel the triumphs and doubts of the title character who comes to great influence concerning his gift, and to great regret concerning his dreams. Dreams, and the fulfilment or misfulfilment of it, seems to be Mr. Or's central concern, as we see it fully fleshed out in the Andres Celestial section. Here, a young boy dreams of a better future where he becomes a science and mathematics genius who would be instrumental in the invention of giant robots ... But life and love happen. What becomes of your dream then? Mr. Or asks. This book has a tender answer to this dilemma. Get this book.

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, May 03, 2015

entry arrow10:07 PM | Speakeasy Cats



What can I say about Depression Era cats meowing it out to the tune of jazz, gunfire, bootlegging, and speakeasies? Tracy J. Butler's Lackadaisy was a hoot of a read. This volume, which gathers together her initial work for an apparently very popular webcomic, is an immersive read into the sweet shenanigans of the 1920s, this time starring cats. I keep getting fascinated by this era's generosity with its capacity for being reread and reconstituted in pop culture. There's The Great Gatsby, of course, and countless movies. But it reminds me most of all of Alan Parker's Bugsy Malone -- essentially occupying the same thread as Butler's meowy narrative, but this time starring kids. Lackadaisy does not exactly end with a close-knit ending: it comes with a cliffhanger, touting a continuation -- and I wish it had been a standalone volume, promising only more standalone volumes still to come. But it's intriguing enough for a graphic novel, granted a language that may be a little bit too whimsical for comfort. The characters are drawn by Ms. Butler with an eye for clarity and fervent characterisation, and it is easy to fall in love with its hapless heroes, in particular the conflicted Freckles, who has some issues Bruce Banner and Dr. Jekyll can help him with. This book has been in my reading list for almost two years now, and I'm happy I've finally reached its last page. Given that slow-burning read, I wish it had closed with a more determined decisiveness. But, oh well, meow.

Labels: , , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Friday, October 31, 2014

entry arrow8:12 PM | The Dead in Riverdale

Like with many staples of childhood, the love for Archie Comics is something I think of fondly when I do remember it, but know that it is an artifact from more innocent days you don't really mourn for when you learn to let go. Sure, all those double digests were fun digressions in a teenager's life, and sure, we did learn to somehow sketch out with the ease of over-familiarity the outlines of Archie's orange top (with those strange hashtags for sideburns), Betty's blonde ponytail, Veronica's brunette mane, and Judghead's iconic crown (cap?). But when we let go, we let go. We only returned, once in a while, when we were trapped in some waiting room at the dentist's, and the only reading material handy was a well-worn squarish issue of Archie. In those occasions, we dipped into the old pleasures, often chuckling to ourselves what made us think these storylines were funny. I think the publishers know this, and so it has tried in recent years to put some edge into Archie. They have taken our beloved characters from Riverdale and make them go through some new spin. And the latest is Afterlife with Archie, wherein Hot Dog dies in the very first page, then Sabrina brings him back to life for the heartbroken Jughead -- and unwittingly unleashes a curse where bringing back the dead truly meant that: the undead in Riverdale, in the form of zombies. I heard about this series early this year, but never felt compelled to check it out. Because, like I said, relic from childhood you abandon without much guilt. But for some reason, this week, I found myself reading the first six issues, which completes the first arc of the story, and leads us to the second one that begins with Sabrina in limbo. And yet the first arc was delightful enough, if only to see many of our favorite characters -- Jughead, Ethel, Moose, Midge, Mrs. Grundy, Prof. Weatherbee, Coach Clayton, etc. -- turn to ravenous living dead, devouring everyone during a Halloween dance. But what I liked the best was the scrubbing of humor: this is a serious comics story, almost rivaling the dread of The Walking Dead, although we have yet to turn to the part where the living would prove to be more monstrous than the dead. And the flashbacks, and the back stories, and the first-person narratives from such unlikely sources like Smithers. Archie Comics has grown up, and does it so via a horror trope we least expect it to embrace. It's perfect Halloween reading, and has much to do with teenage nostalgia, and pricking that nostalgia, and welcoming it with perverse delight.

Labels: , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Monday, May 09, 2011

entry arrow12:27 AM | The Origins of Trese and the Kambals

I like Origins stories. In the tradition of graphic literature (komiks to some of you), they're a staple in the narrative, and most superheroes come barging into our consciousness with an Origin story. There's something about knowing where a hero comes from -- what shaped him to become this something -- that's infinitely intriguing and satisfies a hungry curiosity (we all like asking, "Why?"), and when done right, they provide the meat to the mythos without reducing the hero to a caricature of easy motivations. But that's only one thing that I liked about Budjette Tan and Kajo Baldisimo's third installation in their Trese series. Mass Murders, which gives us the curious and very supernatural childhood of Tan and Baldisimo's kick-ass titular female detective of the uncanny, also gives us a look into the origins of Alexandra Trese's fast and furious sidekicks -- the Kambals, those mask-wearing half-breeds who do Trese's bidding with fierce loyalty and an extreme taste for blood. (The horror writer Yvette Tan finds them extremely hot -- and so do I.) There's also the graphic violence which not only takes off from the gut-wrenching ballets of Alan Moore and Quentin Tarantino, but also has the glorious roughness and tumble of old Filipino action movies. But what impresses me most about this volume (two other volumes precede this one) is not just Tan's tight narrative and Baldisimo's concisely conceived black and white world, but also in how they dip into local gods and fantastic monsters and assorted lower mythology creatures of the pre-Spanish Filipino netherworld. In a kind of an afterword, Tan writes: "The works of Neil Gaiman was a major influence when it came to writing Trese, most especially Sandman and American Gods. In those stories, he asked the question, 'What happened to the gods of old? Where are they now?' And he showed us a goddess of love who found her worshippers in a strip club, gods of death who now run a funeral parlor, and gods of mischief still up to their old tricks. Which made me ask the question, 'Where are the gods that were once worshipped by Filipinos before the Spaniards came? Have they found a new place in the city of Manila?'" Which is how they have come up, in this volume, with the bloodthirsty god of war, Talagbusao, whose bloody rituals and wishes to permanently wreck havoc in the mortal realm leads to this book's main plot, as well as to the explanation for the Kambal's existence. I admire this organic and pulsing attempt to bring back the ancient myths and subject them to the creativity, darkness, and demands of the modern world. It was indeed Gaiman who once told us -- when he first came up with the Philippine Graphic/Fiction Awards -- that we have a wealth of local legends and lore that are more than ready-made for explorations in local speculative fiction, and Trese is a good example of that. The last time I was this excited over a similar project was Arnold Arre's The Mythology Class. (Similarly, Dean Francis Alfar and the core LitCritters also have a cycle of stories about a land called Hinirang -- and I have long demanded an anthology of such stories, but only the future can tell whether that project comes to fruition.) And yet, despite the horror and fantasy that make stories like this ghettoed into Genreville, you see reflections of real-life issues and conflicts -- the corruption of civil government and military, the salacious criminality of small-town politicians, the clueless desperation of the law, the mud of chaos that has engulfed the country, which can only be explained through the prism of dark enchantment: this is a land bewitched and cursed, and every malevolent detail that erupts in our lives are the secret explosions of aswangs and duendes and the like. That Trese -- both mandirigma and babaylan rolled into one -- is around with the Kambals in tow gives us relief from our ordinary horrors, at least in these pages. I love this book. I bought it today, and consumed it a few hours later in one go. It is simply begging to be made into a very, very good film that does it more than justice.

Labels: , , , ,


[2] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, December 26, 2010

entry arrow8:08 PM | Poor, Poor Ramona



I can't believe Edgar Wright's Scott Pilgrim vs. the World [2010] did not gain traction with mass audiences when it was released in theaters early this year, because here is an inspired, almost-original take on a comics story that manages to sustain much of its awesomeness in the avalanche of gimmicks and cutesy it tries to drown itself in. What happened? I have a theory about its unforgivable flaw, but that's for later. Let me concentrate on its strengths first, notably Michael Cera in the full power of his trademark nerdy pose equipped with his trademark deadpan line-delivery, surrounded by a world that takes its visual cue from the vocabulary and tropes of video games and comic books. In this film, Mr. Cera plays the embattled title character, a bass guitarist in a struggling band who suddenly becomes besotted with a girl named Ramona Flowers, much to the consternation of a new 17-year old (and in high school) girlfriend named Knives Chau, as well as to the dismay of the rest of his very colorful posse. In pursuit of Ramona, Scott Pilgrim inexplicably finds himself having to fight for the blossoming romance by having to duel to the death with her seven "evil exes" -- a motley crew of inspired lunacy that includes Chris Evans, Brandon Routh, and Jason Schwartzman. Pretty impressive. I enjoyed the film very much, but I felt unimpressed by Mary Elizabeth Winstead's Ramona -- which is crucial. As the film's resident Helen of Troy, for whom deadly battles must be fought over, she comes off -- beyond the almost requisite quirkiness demanded by the role -- as totally undeserving of all that attention. She lacked charm and spark and gravity, the way Zooey Deschanel or Emma Stone might have provided if they had this role. Because no matter how much I wanted to cheer on Scott Pilgrim in his entertaining battles, I found myself scarcely caring for his ultimate goal.

Labels: ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Wednesday, December 15, 2010

entry arrow10:22 AM | Here's to Memorable Fictional Characters

I never usually respond to Facebook meme lists like this: "Fifteen ____ in Fifteen Minutes." (Fill in the blanks. Your favorite films, music, books, et cetera in the tight span of fifteen minutes.) I find this endeavor to be a perfect waste of time and energy, and I know I will not be so truthful anyway -- how do I know for sure the films or books or music that define my life and put them down without much thinking in fifteen minutes? I always agonize even when I'm asked casually what my favorite film or book is. And yet, how come I responded so willingly to Anna's call this morning for fifteen memorable fictional characters in fifteen minutes? Perhaps because at that very moment, I was thinking of the boy Charlie from Steve Chbosky's "The Perks of Being a Wallflower," and marveled at how precocious and sensitive he was, how I felt for him -- how he seemed real even on the page. And so, the one below became my list. And I couldn't stop at fifteen. I had to go for an even thirty. Memorable fictional characters in films, television shows, books, comics, plays, and songs that have stayed with me, for some reason or other...

Holden Caulfield in J.D. Salinger's "The Catcher in the Rye"
Craig in Craig Thompson's "Blankets"
Philip Benjamin in David Leavitt's "The Lost Language of Cranes"
Giovanni in James Baldwin's "Giovanni's Room"
Elliot in Steven Spielberg's "E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial"
Charlie in Stephen Chbosky's "The Perks of Being a Wallflower"
Zach in Jonah Markowitz's "Shelter"
Doña Lupe in Nick Joaquin's "The Summer Solstice"
Setsuko in Isao Takahata's "Grave of the Fireflies"
Tom Ripley in Anthony Minghella's film of Patricia Highsmith's "The Talented Mr. Ripley"
Junior in Lino Brocka's "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang"
Steve Dunne in Cameron Crowe's "Singles"
Ariel in Ron Clements and John Musker's "The Little Mermaid"
Prof. Grady Tripp in Curtis Hanson's film of Michael Chabon's "Wonder Boys"
Tintin in Georges Rémi's "The Adventures of Tintin, Boy Reporter"
Antonio in Joselito Altarejos's "Ang Lihim ni Antonio"
Dorothy Boyd in Cameron Crowe's "Jerry Maguire"
Jacinta Cordova in Dean Francis Alfar's "Salamanca"
Justin Taylor in Ron Cowen and Daniel Lipman's "Queer as Folk"
Melchior Gabor in Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater's "Spring Awakening"
Regina George in Mark Waters's "Mean Girls"
Carrie Bradshaw in HBO's adaptation of Candace Bushnell's "Sex and the City"
John Keating in Peter Weir's "Dead Poets Society"
Ading in Manuel Arguilla's "Midsummer"
Kiki in Hayao Miyazaki's "Kiki's Delivery Service"
Jude in The Beatles' "Hey, Jude"
Grace Coddington in R.J. Cutler's "The September Issue"
Will Truman in David Kohan and Max Mutchnick's "Will & Grace"
Eva Peron in Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice's "Evita"
Francesca Johnson in Clint Eastwood's film of Robert James Waller's "The Bridges of Madison County"

Labels: , , , , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Monday, November 29, 2010

entry arrow4:13 PM | About a Boy



If I were really serious about making this blog a virtual corkboard of all the fine -- and not so fine -- little things I've come across, then I've been unforgivably remiss in not including Shungiko Nakamura's Junjō Romanchica in my musings here. Looking back, maybe I was a bit of a coward. Perhaps I did not want to admit to liking an extremely melodramatic anime TV series, a yaoi at that. I mean, come on. I'm in my thirties, for God's sake. But I went through the two seasons of this TV series based on the popular manga by Nakamura. There was just something about the unfolding romance between Misaki Takahashi and Akihiko Usami that got to me. Maybe its very familiarity? (Ehem.) But by God, I bawled at every episode of this show, it was almost ridiculous. The story line, worthy of any teleserye, is convoluted and involves a host of other characters, each of them commanding their own full-length treatment -- but perhaps I can summarize the series in one sentence: it is the story of a boy who learns to accept that he loves who he loves, beyond all reservations. Writing that, the description strikes me as maudlin. But it's not. The series is funny and witty and exquisitely drawn, and when it reaches for the stars to make you cry, it doesn't feel like a cheat. Perhaps because its creators have crafted a tale with careful consideration to its characters, we actually empathize with all of them. Plus, the whole thing reminds me about how I miss Tokyo. And I'd give my right arm to be in Tokyo right now.

Labels: , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Saturday, May 02, 2009

entry arrow3:35 PM | Free Comic Books!



Writer Andrew Drilon has a graphic story out in the comic book The Ancient Age, this one edited by Chris Campbell, available for free online, courtesy of Wide Awake Press in celebration of Free Comic Book Day.

Gerry Alanguilan also wants you to know that his classic work of love and violence, Wasted, is available for free online as well.

Go get them!

Labels: ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Saturday, March 07, 2009

entry arrow11:01 AM | Zapped Into Eternal Ecstacy By the Pagoda Cold-Wave Motion Gun

For a play that first reared its fabulous red head way back in 2006, its longevity on stage is quite telling -- and that is how one must call it now, a play of considerable "longevity," given the vaporous thing that is a typical Philippine theatrical run. Armed with a Pagoda Cold-Wave Motion Gun ready to zap anyone who will carp and disagree, we might as well acknowledge that Carlo Vergara's ZsaZsa Zaturnnah ze Muzikal -- adapted from the comic book by Chris Martinez with direction by Chris Millado -- has (are you ready for this?) sashayed its way to a spot in the hallowed selection of local theater classics, the way Nick Joaquin's Portrait of the Artist as a Filipino or Alberto S. Florentino's The World is an Apple or Wilfredo Ma. Guerrero's Wanted: A Chaperone or Orlando Nadres's Hanggang Dito na Lamang at Maraming Salamat are constantly returned to, again and again. And rightfully so. A commercial and critical hit when it first came out as a Tanghalang Pilipino production, the merry (and gay) adventures of ZsaZsa (of the fabulous red hair) has not overstayed its welcome since zapping into our consciousness three years ago -- and the clamor for it has remained, if one must judge by the full houses it has maintained, as well as the constant call for yet another run.

Given my Dumaguete bearings, I must confess I've only seen the show in its latest incarnation. But many weeks after I first saw it during its Valentine run in the CCP Little Theater, ZsaZsa Zaturnnah ze Muzikal -- already a pop culture phenomenon now in its sixth staging* -- stubbornly remains like a sweet, wonderful infection in my head.

An infection, I tell you: it has spread in my system like a mad, beloved musical virus whose sole symptom consists of my ability to suddenly belt out extremely singable show tunes. From the energetic chorus of "Heto na sa wakas, heto na! / Ang pagkakataong hinihintay natin sa wakas ay dumating!" to the triumphant "Ikaw ang superhero ng buhay kong ito / Ikaw ang Krystala at Darna ko / Ang Sugo at Mulawin ko, Lastikman at Gagamboy / Si Volta at Kapten Barbel ko / Ang Super G ng buhay ko... / Ikaw ang superhero ng buhay ko!", the songs stay with you.

Who would have thought there would be days where Joey Paras's unequaled rendition of the comic/dramatic swan song "Nakikita Ko Na ang Nakakasilaw na Ilaw" would become a kind of morning song for me, something I'd unconsciously press play in my CD player while I go about preparing for my day? The song's pathos is heartfelt -- but at the same time, its wicked comic edge allows us to step back a little bit and wink at the whole melodrama of it all.

Any theater critic worth his salt will probably tell you that this is the ultimate litmus test for how a musical can withstand the wear-and-tear of time and audience interest: a musical that hums, and continues to hum even after the last curtain call has been done, has the best chances of becoming a veritable theater "classic." Carlo Vergara's tale of an angst-ridden gay parlorista -- who finds himself, after swallowing a big stone, transformed into a titan of a superheroine, battling with zombies, giant frogs, and Amazon women schooled in the evil martial arts of local showbiz glitter -- is already a classic by that standard, if we are to judge by the sheer devotion it has almost inexplicably commanded from people who have seen it, and then loved it thoroughly. (If there must be Rentheads to describe the devotees of Jonathan Larson's Rent, there should now be a local equivalent: Zaturnettes, perhaps? Right, Hends? Right, Gibbs? Right, Migs? Hehehe.)

It helps, of course, that the source material -- Vergara's inspired gay reworking of the Darna komiks -- is genuinely funny to begin with, and much more so because it borders on delicious innuendos. It is also something completely "relatable" for most Filipinos whose growing-up pop culture staples have included such guilty pleasures as the fantasy literature unleashed by Mars Ravelo and his komiks ilk. That the book is unabashedly gay and uses -- with complete aptness and comic timing -- the wit and zing of gay street lingo gives Ang Kagilagilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni ZsaZsa Zaturnnah an edginess and a sense of irony we have only limned from our favorite komiks tales such as Dyesebel, Dyosa, and of course Darna. Vergara has fleshed out what we have always somehow suspected about our superheroes, and yet he also does it with a kind of reverence for the whole komiks tradition: he pushes the envelope, yes, but he never burns it. I've been teaching the graphic novel in my Philippine literature class in Silliman University for some years now, and it has never failed to entertain my students, even when it finally becomes a vehicle for a very academic discussion on the role of komiks in our culture.

When I first heard that it was being adapted into a musical, I thought the effort would probably be disastrous. How would they do the frog attack? The zombies? The intricate transmorphication of the Amazonistas? Even more so, I wondered: how would ordinary Filipino theatergoers react to what is essentially a gay fantasia, where lonely gay man actually gets the handsome guy in the end? And would the music be any good at all?

I did not quite remember that theater is actually capable of making magic that even film, with all kinds of special effects at its disposal, cannot provide: the stage is a womb for imagination, and a creative use of trapdoors and revolving stages, scrims and curtains, shadows and light -- and even hammy puppet-like prosthetics meant to approximate legs in battle -- is enough to make the story believable, and enjoyable, without taxing our innate incredulity too much.

It also helps that the members of the cast embody their characters almost like second skin. Someone actually said that some of the actors -- many of them reprising roles they originated in 2006 -- were merely going through the motions, that there was a palpable lack of energy and surprise that was probably brought on by being overly familiar with what they had to do. That is a valid observation, and perhaps it is also true -- but as a first-time attendee, I enjoyed the interplay between camp and seriousness the actors tried to convey: Eula Valdez -- beautiful and buff and oozing with a sex appeal that bothered the gay man in me -- is a wonder to behold as ZsaZsa, displaying a voice, comic timing, and an inner knowledge of bayotness that would have proven fatal if the role was given to one with lesser talents; Tuxqs Rutaquio has the tricky role of making the angsty Ada relatable and lovable, and he does so with aplomb.

Kalila Aguilos as Queen Femina is relatively less successful -- she grimaces too much and tries too hard -- but she gives the role the correct measure of madness it demands, and for that, we enjoy her, too. Joey Paras as Didi has a role that seems designed to be a scene-stealer from the get-go, unfortunately for the main players -- but it still wouldn't have worked if Joey didn't invest so much humanity into his manic comedy. And a scene-stealer he indeed was. (For those who have yet to see the show, wait for Didi's announcement of the play's intermission -- it will have you in stitches.)

I was hoping that in the night I would finally see ZsaZsa, the Dodong that I would get would be Arnold Reyes. I got newcomer Red Anderson instead. A theater friend believes that Red's take on the Dodong role -- essentially the story's damsel-in-distress part -- is an altogether different attack from all the other Dodongs in the show's past. I don't know what he meant by that, having not seen Arnold's, Janvier Daily's, or Lauren Novero's take. From his films, however, Arnold displays an exquisite subtlety as an actor, and that is how I expected Dodong to be handled -- and in the end, at least for me, Red's presence on stage last February 13 was very much on the high-end of okay. It could have been more, of course: I wanted him to break my heart when he began to launch into the show's signature song, "Ikaw ang Superhero ng Buhay Ko." He didn't. But that's perfectly okay.

In the end, however, the heart of the show -- aside from Carlo's original story -- is the music by Vince de Jesus. Theater critic Gibbs Cadiz once reported in an article for the Philippine Daily Inquirer that "a critic, emerging from the show somewhat glassy-eyed, pronounced ZsaZsa's aural impact 'all noise'," that "a producer, rolling his eyes, said [his] melodies sounded all alike," and that "a director wondered why the music didn't just go all-out pop or local novelty." But what's success without the little carping? They may have valid points, but Vince's music for ZsaZsa -- which is a feast of a celebration of Filipino popular culture that takes in all sorts of dizzying influences ranging from komiks and OPM (Tuesday Vargas's "Hindi Ako Bakla" and Hotdog's "Ikaw ang Miss Universe ng Buhay Ko," for example), cheesy 1980s variety shows (like LoveliNess or Vilma!), and the lovable, much-missed cinematic schlock of Viva, Regal, and Seiko Films -- feels and sounds just right. That they remain in your head days and days after you've last seen the show is testament to the music's genius.

It is quite unfortunate, of course, that the only way most of the country have seen the material of the musical is through Joel Lamangan's horrible, dead-on-the-water cinematic version that languished in theaters during one forgettable edition of the annual Metro Manila Film Festival. That film is a virtual exercise in sacrilege (complete with unnecessary new characters perhaps conjured by Mother Lily to give work to talentless teenyboppers), and proves to be so even given the usual excuse that the film version of any text must transcend the original and become its own original art. Chris Millado, Chris Martinez, and Vince de Jesus did exactly that with Carlo Vergara's original material. Joel Lamangan, however, made it his toilet paper, and took the roll with him to some lamentable cinematic shit-hole. Which is sad because the play ends with so much joyful affirmation of love and humanity, designed to put its audiences on their feet, clapping, by the time the last note fades.

That is what I would remember most about ZsaZsa. How it completed one night for me into a brand of funny, sly, wicked, musical magic.


ZsaZsa Zaturnnah ze Muzikal is currently running in CCP Little Theater, with the following schedule: March 6 (with Vince, Nar, Arnold, Kalila at 8pm); March 7 (with Vince, Joey, Red, Meliza at 3pm, and Tuxqs, Joey, Red, and Kalila at 8pm); and March 8 (with Tuxqs, Nar, Red, and Kalila at 3pm and Tuxqs, Joey, Arnold, and Meliza at 8pm). Eula plays ZsaZsa in all the shows. More details are available here.


* something perhaps totally unheard of in the local theater scene: a gay musical based on local material -- not Broadway -- that has people clamoring for more and more.

Labels: , , , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Wednesday, October 22, 2008

entry arrow12:59 AM | Martial Law Babies



I should have posted this some time ago, but life got in the way. But here's something to look forward to: a new graphic novel by Arnold Arre! We've been waiting for this since he published his last work Ang Mundo ni Andong Agimat (a reworking of Pinoy action komiks), following the success of After Eden (a love story), Trip to Tagaytay (science fiction), and The Mythology Class (fantasy). I love the way Arnold tries to flex his muscles across various genres -- and this time, with Martial Law Babies, he is tackling the historical.

You can pre-order the book here.

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, May 04, 2008

entry arrow2:24 PM | ZsaZsa Returns



[more information over at the carver house]

Labels: ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Sunday, December 16, 2007

entry arrow1:10 PM | Goodbye, Karlo

I love this comic strip from Blogenyo, a.k.a. Eugene Villar.



It's a spiffy update of the now-classic "Goodbye, Carlo" Purefoods Tender Juicy Hotdog commercial, now remade for the Internet age.

P.S. Just in case you want to know, Chantal Umali, that hotdog girl, is now a photographer and a professor at De La Salle University.

[via komiks.ph]

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Tuesday, November 13, 2007

entry arrow8:24 PM | Chick This!

Ahhhh, the Jack T. Chick Comics. I grew up with these, collected them all with such passion (including the tracts), and considered all of them gospel truth (pardon the pun) when I was a kid in the most Christian fundamentalist of environments.



I had a strange childhood.

And oh, according to Bookslut, they have a new comic, this time aimed at Mormonism. Exciting.

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



Saturday, September 22, 2007

entry arrow9:45 PM | On Writing Challenges

My short story "The Flicker" -- which was something I wrote for LitCritters Dumaguete's most recent writing challenge (this time an exercise in horror writing) -- is in this week's issue of the Philippines Free Press, the one with Erap on the cover. This follows the publication last week of Nikki Alfar's wonderful "Adrift on the Street Formerly Known as Buendia." (Come to think of it, LitCritters seem to have a habit of following each other's stories in PFP. Last year, Andrew Drilon's story followed the publication of a children's story I wrote, which literary editor Sarge Lacuesta earnestly considered, despite the genre.) My story is coupled with Conchitina Cruz's poetry, and I found that a little strange since Chingbee's name and nickname is the inspiration for one character in my story (which would also feature several characters with distinctly familiar surnames ... Alfar, Kwe, Drilon, Simbulan, Yu, Evangelista, Osias, anyone?) "The Flicker" came about after I read Stephen King's unsettling "1408" a few months ago (a week before the film adaptation came out), and I wanted to know if I could venture into that kind of creepy, atmospheric writing. The truth is, most of my recent stories spring from challenges I give myself. Can I write science fiction? Then I wrote "The Pepe Report." Can I write slipstream? Then I wrote "A Strange Map of Time." Can I write absurd fantasy? Then I wrote "A Tragedy of Chickens." Can I do minimalist fiction? Then I wrote "Old Movies." (Right now, I'm asking myself: can I write crime fiction? The story I'm working on in that vein I've already promised to Kenneth Yu of Philippine Genre Stories.) The results to these challenges are sometimes successful, mostly not, but I like the feeling of having tried. It's a pain in the butt every time I read another writer/critic complain about the "lack of (or the death of) this and that" in our literature (e.g., "Filipinos don't write crime fiction...," "Where is the humor in our literature?..."), and I always end up arguing back: "If you're so concerned about it, why don't you just fuck off and write something?" Anyway... "The Flicker" may prove to be the only horror story I will ever write in this lifetime: the experience spooked me so much I couldn't sleep the night following the finish of that story.

On another note, the comics genius that is Andrew is joining the line-up of The Chemistry Set with his series, Kare-Kare Komiks. Check it out, and read Dean's post about it.

Labels: , ,


[0] This is Where You Bite the Sandwich



GO TO OLDER POSTS