HORROR FROM THE MARGINS

SHAKE RATTLE AND ROLL 13 (2011)

Tamawo

Directed by Richard Somes

Written by Richard Somes, Aloy Adlawan, Jules Katanyag

Starring Maricar Reyes, Bugoy Carino, Zanjoe Marudo, Celia Rodriguez

Parola

Directed by Jerrold Tarog

Written by Jerrold Tarog, Aloy Adlawan, Maribel Ilag, Roselle Monteverde

Starring Kathryn Bernardo, Louise delos Reyes, Sam Concepcion, Ina Reymundo, Ara Mina, Lloyd Samartino

Rain Rain Go Away

Directed by Chris Martinez

Written by Marlon N. Rivera, Chris Martinez

Starring Eugene Domingo, Jay Manalo, Edgar Allan Guzman, Boots Anson-Roa, Perla Bautista

It is often argued that the spotlight of local mainstream cinema at the moment is no longer at the marginalized groups of society (the poor, indigenous people, militant groups, etc.) but at the privilege of the ruling class. It’s a saddening case then that the cries of real oppression are muted in favor of success stories via commercial achievements (the middle-class ideal for accomplishment) and the sugary narratives of boy-meets-girl. But for the genre known to make oppressive forces pay, local horror never neglected the marginalized. In fact, modern issues still have a special place in the heart of the grotesque. Such is the case here in SHAKE RATTLE AND ROLL 13, Regal’s annual horror treat for the Metro Manila Film Festival. (Still) chopped up to three narratives, this time it’s about a family who retreat to the idyll province (“Tamawo”), a revival of a dead friendship (“Parola”) and the horrors done by the 2009 storm Ondoy to rich factory owners (“Rain, Rain Go Away”). The film is no departure in terms of form. I’ve always thought that the cleancut digital quality of Regal’s visuals is anticlimactic compared to the earlier films’ mood and atmosphere. In fact, the content is quite familiar too. Since the MMFF is seen as an event offered for family bonding, the supposedly last installment of the horror franchise is all about families. But it’s not without its twisted reflections of contemporary social ills.

All episodes focus on the ideal family model: father and mother with their children try to cope with changes in their new situations. The family in “Tamawo” traveled from Manila to the stateside because the father finds the city chaotic, while the couple in “Rain, Rain Go Away” tries to cope up from the horrors of the nightmarish storm by building a new factory and retrying their chances at having a child. The bond of two families in the middle episode “Parola” would be disrupted by a secret affair. It is the disruption of the family’s peace that would let the horrors push through, but unlike “Parola”, the bookend episodes are haunted by the unrecognized marginalized groups of people. The tamawos are supernatural forces that stood in for indigenous people in the provinces. Years ago, their crystal has been stolen by a mortal who buried the treasure under a nipa hut. In the contemporary period, the tamawos threatens a family to bring out the treasure which the father actually discovered and hid. Only when the son offered himself as a sacrifice that the remaining members of the family achieve peace.

The third episode is direct in handling a much more recent issue regarding Metro Manila – floods. In “Rain, Rain Go Away”, a couple is haunted by ghosts of child laborers who drowned by Ondoy floods when they were locked-up in the old plastic ware factory owned by the rich couple. Thinking the horror has past, the rich couple found a new home and built a new factory (in a manner reminiscent of Imelda Marcos after the incident at the Manila Film Center). But the ghosts of the workers haunted the family and even took the lives of their relatives.

If this really is the last installment of the franchise then it managed to update audiences of recent circumstances occurring both in rural and urban sectors. A line from “Tamawo” has addressed the woes of indigenous people regarding the proceedings in mining (especially around Palawan). “Halos lahat ng bagay sa mundo ay nasa inyo na! ‘Eto na lang ang amin, papakialaman niyo pa!” said one of the tamawos in their conversation with the father. It is pitiful of course because what we thought of as a crystal was actually an egg that is carrying a premature embryo – the last member of the tamawos. The film has industrialization and modern society to blame for all the troubles done to the tribe. The relationship between the upper and the lower classes would be much more direct in the third episode. Child laborers were selfishly locked by the couple so they wouldn’t escape the job as makers of plastic containers. Plastic of course is known as the ultimate culprit to the flooding of the cities. That’s why plastic bans have started in different cities in the metro, though not all. The overproduction done by the capitalist couple in the film is the reason why the deaths and the eventual haunting occurred.

By putting our sympathies at the losses of the bourgeois family, it is easy to overlook the situation of the abject monsters/ghosts. These families sit pretty in their houses and when unfavorable incidents arouse (such as natural calamities), they selfishly save themselves and let the others die. But like the Ondoy victims in the third episode, the margins have their own way of returning. The film has bourgeois families (or people who can afford to watch Php150-200 worth of movie tickets) as target audiences and these audiences relate to the problems of the families they watch. But listen closely to the line said by the maid in the final episode “Makakalimutan natin ang lahat pero ang mga patay… hindi sila nakakalimot!”. We may stay at our comfort zones for long, but the ones from the margins will continue to haunt us until their voices are heard.

THE REVENGE OF THE FORGOTTEN

Kimmy Dora and the Temple of Kiyeme

Alas, the new Eugene Domingo film was another crowd-pleasing success. It is expectedly so since Eugene, after numerous accolades and a string of noteworthy comedic performances, has established herself as the new It-girl of local cinema, a megastar. Kimmy Dora and the Temple of Kiyeme for the second time around was carried by her very theatrical performances (she played three roles). But this one’s pretty inferior. The laughs weren’t louder than the first and despite having a more adventurous plot and gag-filled mishaps, the script felt more predictable. The production was at least an improvement, letting Eugene enjoy the costumes and the audiences enjoy the beauty of Korean culture. Gags aside, the very departure of the film is its inclusion of a horror element. Employing this for additional spice, the film also introduces a relevant feat of repression. So the plot goes like this: the Goh Dong Hae family experiences the haunting of a deceased family friend who happens to be the patriarch’s (played by Ariel Ureta) Korean ex-girlfriend. The spirit goes on to take the souls of the men in Kimmy and Dora’s lives and the twins must let her soul rest in peace in order to retrieve the souls of their father and boyfriends (Zanjoe Marudo and Dingdong Dantes). 


It can be argued that the horror element of vengeful ghost is only an excuse for conflict in an otherwise predictable comedy. This aside, the film extinguishes the eruptions that could’ve given the film a little more action. Consider Kimmy’s frustrations of taking responsibility for almost all the family’s mishaps. This has been the issue of her character since the first film. Towards the end of the sequel, she is still the only one who seems to be providing solutions for the film’s major problems. Kimmy is an independent working woman who represents a new high regard for the working Filipina in the corporate ladder. Domingo portrays her with frosty bitchiness a la Meryl Streep’s Miranda Priestley with emotional troubles and desire for only money and success. It’s also interesting how the anguished female ghost takes back hilariously at the men. Her needs were taken for granted as the story left her side for the horror one. The horror story conflict is resolved and we are left once again with escapist bourgeois comedy. Since the film isn’t really interested in feminism, well what other issues could this film raise?


Let’s return to the ghost itself. The reason for its horrific rage was because Mr. Go Dong Hae left her as an adolescent and married a Filipina when he chose to study in the Philippines. This Korean girl Sang Kang Kang (cosplayer Alodia Gosiengfiao) locked herself up in her room to die. The choice of the Korean man isn’t much of a surprise for the contemporary Filipino setting where a “Korean invasion” has been occurring in the past decade. Sun Star Cebu (2011) reports “in 2010, Koreans overtook Americans as the biggest group of foreigners to visit the Philippines. More than 740,000 Koreans visited the Philippines last year, accounting for 21 percent of all foreign tourist arrivals, according to the Department of Tourism.” Koreans enjoy life here in the Philippines because they can absolutely afford it. And with their continuous travels to the country, a cultural shift may take place. Kimmy and Dora themselves are what Sun.Star Cebu calls the “Kopinos”, the Korean-Filipino children born from the previous generations of the two countries’ budding relationship. They are even bound to continue the two countries’ relationship by forcefully marrying a Korean tycoon’s son, which was comically lifted because the groom-to-be is a gluttonous damulag.


But then also, what could this imply on Filipinos? You dare not ask for the obvious: we are enjoying a great deal of Korean culture. From pop music (KPop), “Koreanovelas” to Korean restaurants and shops, well it is indeed a subtle invasion. It only piles up to our own colonial mentality, especially the teenage group. 


Sang Kang Kang’s vengefulness is a Korean response to this Kopino phenomenon. An interesting fact about her is that she is a part of the ethnic groups of their country. One could imagine how disappointed the uncolonized Koreans are to the ones who left for newer lifestyles elsewhere. Of course, the film ends on a positive note. The ghost was cast away and they failed to please their father’s insistence of a continuation of Korean-Filipino relationship (coz after all, it was only all about money). If only the horror element of a vengeful forgotten culture has been taken seriously, we would have seen a modern horror film that challenges the negative outcome of Korean-Filipino ties.


References:


Sun.Star Cebu. (2011). Help on the way for Kopinos in Cebu. Retrieved August 20, 2012 from http://www.sunstar.com.ph/cebu/local-news/2011/03/13/help-way-kopinos-cebu-144575

AFTERTHOUGHTS ON “Women and Gays in a Zombie-infested Paradise (review of ZOMBADINGS)”

The dynamism of film is forever a mystery to the avid viewer of cinema. What was once a well-beloved classic has been proven to be a mediocre and cheesy film from a period that is gravely important to document in the books. Such is my impression with Jade Castro’s ZOMBADINGS, a film that at first seems like a total hands-down moment for the local LGBT community made in a time when views on gender and sexuality have been shifting – until it proved to be not.



It all started when I heard from Jade Castro himself in a screening of the film. According to him, he was inspired by the film AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (by John Landis, 1981) where a “man is being transformed into something he’s not”. Remington is indeed a young man “cursed” into homosexuality (from a mental illness, now a curse!) and only the power of a straight father who has not bed a single twink can save him. I get the picture, but when you realize he’s likening a live human being (a label gay activists have been fighting for decades to be treated as) to a monster is something else. Well I get it - monsters and gays are both considered “other” in a clean-cut patriarchal society. FRANKENSTEIN, Ricky Lee’s AMAPOLA... it’s all over popular culture. But do we really have to repeat that notion and translate it into a film that is very unsubtle yet also problematic about the whole gay issue?



Enter the case of camp. As he said so in interviews, Castro intended ZOMBADINGS to be camp. There was Roland Tolentino’s review of the film that questioned this. He says here

Hindi pwedeng magsimula ang isang proyekto na maging camp. Kailangan itong maging resulta o in hindsight na persepsyon. Hindi ako lalabas ng bahay bilang stereotipong parloristang bading dahil hindi ito magreresulta sa “dobleng camp.” Mananamit ako, at dahil labis ang pabalat na ukay-ukay o high fashion, halimbawa, maari akong maging camp.

Ang Zombadings ay mulat na camp, ito ay campy pero hindi camp. Ang nangyari sa pagpapatingkad ng proyektong maging camp ay negation ng camp. Walang irony o disjuncture sa dalawang pinagtatapat na mundo dahil naglapat ang pagpapatawa (intensyonalidad at resultang primaryo sa box-office) sa object ng pagpapatawa (ang kabadingan). (2011)

He ends the review by stating that ZOMBADINGS only reinforced stereotypes. Remington was a mere reinforcement of the “screaming faggot” stereotype that must be abolished in the straight man’s way. “Nag-kwento lang, at nag-reaffirm ng kwento”. It has pandered to a serious issue for some beef and ended up laughing at it.

From what I know, the best camp films didn’t initially intend themselves to be camp, because the label’s supposed to be what a film is avoiding – to become a joke. Yet the praise the previous camp films had influenced the Aughts in a way. It made a new generation of filmmakers go for the lessons of the past and imitate a trend, try to recreate an effect that would score an audience. Yes of course, it had its moments of pure gay eye and ear candy. Yet upon having all these bloated ideas exploding, the advocacy turned out to be lip service. You can ask the film itself – are you or aren’t you?


ZOMBADINGS is at times celebratory yet at times still brutally homophobic, and it ends up where it started – gays are still sissies looked at as a joke. It’s very problematic and unaware of what it stands for. The kid in the last scene says it all. He sees a golden gay walking on the street. The kid stops and points at him, telling his mom “Bakla, oh”. Just when you thought a negative remark would be blurted out, he immediately praises him with a face utterly forced to say “Ang gandaaa”. Would that be a sign of change? As Tolentino said, it is indeed still a big box of a film entrapping homosexuals into traits and keeping them there. The makers of ZOMBADINGS only made it taste so sweet. - Gio Potes, September 2012




Reference:

Tolentino, R. (2011). Mulat na camp at kawalan ng irony. Retrieved July 11, 2012 from http://pinoyweekly.org/new/2011/10/mulat-na-camp-at-kawalan-ng-irony/

MYTH OF JAPANESE HEROISM

THE DAWN OF FREEDOM (1944)

Contemporary audiences are used to the stories of lolos and lolas about their encounters with Japanese soldiers. They easily dismiss the WWII as a grueling period caused by Jap soldiers who are destructive and atrocious. Even history tells us so because it is in the consensus of all these stories that the 3-4 years of Japanese occupation was a devastating moment in our history. As people living seven decades after the Occupation, we rely on these accounts and consider them as facts. But it is of course, a matter of perspective. The Americans who “saved” us from the Japanese are in for their condemnation because they were also bombed by the superpower, plus they have a colonizing agenda. But what if you ask what the Japanese thought about it? Enter THE DAWN OF FREEDOM (1944).

The film starts with a devastating introduction – the declaration of Manila as an “Open City”. From there, we proceed to two narratives woven together: one is the war encounters of Andres Gomez; the other is about his kid brother Tony’s friendship with a kind Jap soldier. Andres who was once faithful to the American flag found his way to the Japanese army after a brief encounter and belittlement from his leaders. When he left his home in Manila, his brother Tony was crippled by an automobile driven by an American officer but a Japanese soldier he befriends him and sends him to a doctor to ease his condition. It all ends with smiles as the Japanese lead the Filipinos to their progress as a people.  Well DAWN OF FREEDOM is, above its dragging war genre excess, a typical melodrama with a touching bromance between a kid and a father-like soldier, a working Filipino and the Japanese army, colonizer and colonized. It’s not an easy watch of course – available copies are now rough and inaudible with only Japanese subtitles functioning as a guide (it’s quite obvious who the target audience is, too). But the work on its music is quite masterful especially in the scene where Tony stands up from his wheelchair to reveal the miracle his Japanese friend has blessed him. It is undoubtedly a sappy textbook example of an MMK episode. Perhaps a macho AFFAIR TO REMEMBER, too?

So now the issue is this: what did the Japanese want to do? Despite a prominent Filipino director (Gerardo de Leon), it was very apparent that the Japanese were all over this puppet show. According to Video 48 (2011):

 It was the Japanese policy to push the goals of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. According to Rico Jose in his article, “The Dawn of Freedom and Japanese Wartime Propaganda”, the Japanese had three aims: to unmask the Americans as the real enemies and to eradicate their influences; to emphasize Japan’s role as the leader of Asia; and especially with regard to Filipinos, to recover the native character lost due to years of Occidental colonization. Because it was highly popular, film was used as an instrument of propaganda.

It was Japan’s aim to mask their colonizing agenda by antagonizing the Americans (something the latter has done a lot more subtly). From the American automobile that crippled Tony to the brutalities done by white soldiers to the Filipinos, it’s a powerful early anti-American statement. The Japanese have successfully made it appear that they’re indeed heroic towards Filipinos they “freed”, at least in cinematic terms. Then again freedom doesn’t mean independence. We may seem free from Americans but we still depended on an imperialist. And as a whole big scheme of media control and control via media, the Japanese saw the rising Philippine cinema’s potential (it has been argued that the 1930s saw an early golden age for Philippine films, if only the prints survived the war) and they used it as a tool for propaganda and colonization. A contradiction so obvious it was bound to fail.

While these plans shone through DAWN OF FREEDOM, it shouldn’t be denied that the Japanese also did rather good things for the Filipinos by sharing and teaching their values (to the children especially) and educating the people in their own ways. What really caught my attention was the beautiful friendship between Tony and the Japanese soldier Ikejima. They had this certain chemistry, a bond so heartwarming I didn’t want them to part. I said before that Tony’s miraculous scene was overtly melodramatic, but once a shot of Ikejima smiling back was shown, it is suggested through that very sequence that the war should be pushed aside for the bright side of Japanese occupation: a brief but beautiful friendship. It was this simple friendship that’s the real driving force behind the false heroism of DAWN OF FREEDOM. That may be the smallest glimpse of appreciation, in a whole big book of complaints and horrific stories.

References:

Video 48. (2011). The war years (1942-45): Part two/ propaganda movies. Retrieved September 1, 2012 from http://video48.blogspot.com/2011/03/war-years-1942-45-part-two-propaganda.html

Pinoy Kollektor. (2011). Dawn of freedom – Philippine wwii movie.  Retrieved September 1, 2012 from http://pinoykollektor.blogspot.com/2011/10/48-dawn-of-freedom-philippine-wwii.html

Torre, N. (2011). Philippine cinema’s ‘golden ages’ debated anew. Retrieved September 1, 2012 from http://agimat.net/film/n110322.php

THEY WENT FORTH AND MULTIPLIED, NOW LEAVING.

Yet again, another social networking site closes for being unable to catch up with the times. Why, it was just like yesterday when Multiply.com was the elitists’ hub, back when the leading Friendster was beginning a jejemized decline and Facebook was crawling out from the Harvard underground.

My experience with Multiply is a memorable one. For just one year, I found people who shared my interests (non-fiction then) and found myself writing more often than usual. Multiply also gave me the chance to color my cyber walls with the digital wallpapers and online crayons provided for free. In this hub, I felt so liberated customizing blogs and sharing photos, videos, links, whatever I want. I shed my shyness and revealed skin (sometimes literally). I wrote the best stories and blogs, all about these idiosyncrasies of a teenage fairy camping out his sexual repression in Catholic school. I also met the oddest and wittiest of people who critiqued my works and also shared what they have. It’s not appropriate to be this expressive only online, it’ll make you feel like a recluse. But somehow it felt really great.

Okay, so Multiply probably had some snob appeal. People in the site believed that it was for the cool kids, and Friendster was soooo years behind - it’s become a ‘bakya’ website (now I think a similar hierarchy also exists between Tumblr and Facebook but both manage to coexist). Looking at it however, Multiply only had the advantage of being a prominent blog site. The cool smart peti-b kids preferred Multiply just so they had an outlet for creative juices and candy tantrums. The ideas that having a DSLR was an implication of class and a degree in photography and being so good in English meant you’re better off than the rest were beginning to gain prominence around the circles of Multiply. It was a short-lived elitism until a more democratic site came to demolish the boundaries and let everyone be friends and unfriends. But amateur artists like me had Multiply as an avenue for our eccentricities, too. People there understood and gave a damn about whatever you have to say.

Around December, Multiply will face the situation similar to that of Friendster - it’ll remove the social ties and everything shared to be a business site. Facebook is the juggernaut that snapped all these sites away. It is the epitome of cyberspace’s power, eating up the smaller communities like Multiply and Friendster for the ultimate global village. The sad news made me feel like an old colorful transient house of mine was burned to the ground. And the previous boarders like me, who found so much joy, utility and satisfaction in it, can only look back at this humble beginning of social cyberspace, when the TV generation was still warming up to new screens and are just starting to enjoy new means of self-expression. So long, Multiply.com! - Gio Potes, August 2011

The Gaga-Madonna Issue

Video: http://youtu.be/u3YmMqPEb_I


2:54 — MADONNA SINGS “EXPRESS YOURSELF”, “BORN THIS WAY” AND “SHE’S NOT ME” in her MDNA TOUR (Tel Aviv, Israel)


What she’s implying here is the already given impression that her 1989 hit “Express Yourself” (ooh, 2 decades later it’s finally stamped a classic!) and Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way” do sound alike. You can’t really tell if it’s an act of gratitude, just a silly trip or mockery but I’d definitely buy the last, because singin’ two sonically identical songs back-to-back and then wrapping it up with “She’s Not Me” (Lyrics for the tour: “she’s not me” 5x) doesn’t represent anything more or less than a punch.


I don’t know why she had to bother really. Her whole fanbase has done the slagging too much, this just seems like a nod to the whole issue. “Express Yourself” comes off as a Madonna-serving anthem to the love-yourself-and-your-friends-and-your-God of “Born This Way”. She yelled numerous times “express yourseeeeelf!”. So now that she’s threatened/annoyed/whatever by a “reductive” fellow pop star who’s standing high and proud and following Madonna’s rants of self-expression for the conception of a therapeutic self-hugging song (call it melodramatic, but the Gaga saved me with her presence in pop alone), she tends to slag her off by mocking her.


Perhaps it’s just a matter of relevance. In 1993, when she was doing so much to be the most controversial, a financially-lesser but very talented singer named Sinead O’Connor raised more eyebrows with an SNL performance that included the tearing of an image of Pope John Paul II. Madonna, on the same show, did the same thing but with a different picture and attacked O’Connor’s action for being offensive to the Catholic Church. 


In response, Sinead told Spin magazine “Madonna is probably the hugest role model for women in America. There’s a woman who people look up to as being a woman who campaigns for women’s rights. A woman who in an abusive way towards me, said that I look like I had a run in with a lawnmower and that I was about as sexy as a Venetian blind.”


And for the kicker: “Now there’s the woman that America looks up to as being a campaigner for women, slagging off another woman, for not being sexy”. In Gaga’s case, for following Madonna. Hey hey.

STAR CINEMA’S PERIOD HORROR STRUGGLES

Derek Ramsey is not a good actor. But he managed to be present in Star Cinema’s three latest movies that marked departures from its tiresome formulas: the first was One More Chance (2008) which showed the production giant’s care for feminist politics since Sana Maulit Muli (not to mention a more realistic approach in handling modern relationships); then there was the Temptation Island-wannabe No Other Woman (2011), a film that introduced adulterous sexual themes to their mainstream but new lows for anything in Philippine cinema; and lastly, this year’s much talked-about horror Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang (2012). Like One More Chance, Corazon’s fullpotential gets tangled up in the Star Cinema-ness of the production. But it is a departure nonetheless.

The plot was rather simple: Corazon (Erich Gonzales, in a convincingly campy performance), a barrio lass married to Daniel (Ramsey), lives in a post-war hacienda plagued by the Japanese soldiers, then a greedy landlord (Mark Gil) and finally a monstrously anguished female (guess who?). The root of the last one is Corazon’s own failure of delivering a son for Daniel. She becomes crazy and starts eating the children of their hacienda only to be chased away by the townsfolk. All is well.

Aesthetically, the film is a triumph in milieu. The setting perfectly captured my lola’s stories about the rurals fresh from the Japanese Occupation. But what I noticed prominently in the film is the clash between the styles of director Richard Somes (an indie favorite who made Yanggaw, also a horror film set in the province) and his Star Cinema collaborators that affected the rest of the film. For the example, Somes did surreal fast editing in scenes like Corazon’s demise. But it just looked awkward in the middle of teleserye-style technicals. This conflict affected the narrative too. Star Cinema’s love ideals always seem to interrupt the horror film’s plot. I thought it was abundant with romance cliches that it lacked subtlety as a horror film. Somes’ direction seemed upstaged by the dominant Star Cinema style. You can imagine the producers nagging at the director’s ear during both principal photography and post-production.

I guess Star Cinema was very hungry for a different kind of horror that they just squeezed the ideas of Richard Somes to help them conceive a turning point for the studio. Like last year’s Segunda Mano, the film proves (and even spells out before the credits) that a monster is not born but created. The “halimaw” image is all in the mind and Corazon, the “aswang” shows that the transformation of the woman to flesh-eating lunatic is due to her own anguish. This “anguish” is the result of many troublesome factors - perhaps it’s the villagers’ condemnation of her as a pre-slut, her inability to produce a child for Daniel (especially after performing tiring rituals), the atrocities experienced by the town during the war, or all of the above. But probably and most powerful of it all, it’s a woman’s revenge. Filipinos are well-aware of women’s condition during the war. They were raped, horribly tortured and their children were violently bayoneted in front of them. Her use of the boar as a costume for her nightly attacks calls to mind the historical significance of the animal during this period (Guerilla’s used the boar’s head to scare the Japanese away, while women use the boar’s blood to blot it on their underwear, thus avoiding rape).

One silenced subplot of the film is the growing antagonism of the landlord to the workers. Rarely would you find such class struggle in a Star Cinema film. But then, this struggle was put to bed when Corazon attacked. Their switch of antagonist is notable, too - if you can’t blame the greedy capitalist, why not target the crazy woman? Once again, Star Cinema’s feminist views seemed to be in question.

The final scenes seemed very symbolic enough: Daniel, after killing the landlord who burned his house and tried to kill his wife, gets back on the capitalist and gets chased away by his minions; Corazon, on the other hand, was chased by the male villagers because of her monstrosity. This symbolic couple (perhaps the proletarian and the anguished female?) left this plagued village to reach a destination all for themselves, and nobody ever heard from them ever again.

The horror genre is notable for its direct reflection of the turbulence of the period it depicts. Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang, for its departure from bourgeois culture and focus on post-war Philippines, is a rare horror film that at least tries to prove that in the local movie industry. Nice try, Star Cinema. - Gio Potes, May 2012

THE RING AND POLTERGEIST: HORROR CINEMA’S DAMNATION OF MEDIA

What could be more horrifying than the realization that technology and media is taking over your life?

Tobe Hooper’s Poltergeist is about a family living in a haunted house. The heat actually starts when the youngest member of the family Carol Anne (Heather O’Rourke) gets abducted by these ghosts. How? Through the television of course! On the other hand, Gore Verbinski’s remake of the Japanese hit Ringu, The Ring, takes on a more surreal tone. Naomi Watts plays the role of a reporter whose niece (Amber Tamblyn) and her friends die of unknown causes, and rumors say they passed away because of a video tape. Her investigation leads to deeper trenches when she learns the source of this cursed tape.

On the surface, these films are classic examples of mainstream cinema’s success at horror. They’re remembered especially because of the iconic scenes they bear: Poltergeist’s child abduction and The Ring’s scene of a creepy little girl named Samara coming out of the television to kill the ones she curse. But a deeper understanding would show these films’ take on modernization and critique of television and media. It’s so much scarier to have this deeper understanding since the most influential medium (the television according to Time Magazine) is actually succeeding in sending its messages across to its audiences, even those messages that are hideous and inhuman. Like Carol Anne, their target is the youngest members of society because they know they would be naive enough to eat up their shit. And we, the passive boob tube audiences let ourselves be Carol Anne - abducted by these monsters that we become monsters ourselves… living and breathing under the influence of what is dictated, or what is popular even if it violates our own cultures. Everyday, we indulge ourselves into it and everyday, the horror is very present. Until when would we let these influence us? Would it reach the point where we die because of their own influences, because their very own Samara?

- Gio Potes, October 2011

Women and Gays in a Zombie-infested Paradise.

What I love about Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington is, of course, how it views Philippine homosexuality. But even though it's much more sugar-coated than, say, Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros or Ang Lihim ni Antonio and its political undertones are taken rather silently, it is among those rare movies today that acknowledges feminism as an essential part of LGBT. It's the year's perfect counterattack to the dreadfully anti-feminist barfbag No Other Woman (which curiously became the second top-grossing film in the country last year).

I smiled throughout this movie for its escapist nature. Set in a fictional Lucban, it is an unconventional fairy tale. The police officers make up of mostly trustworthy women. The gays are still the community fairies who design these ladies into Cinderellas. And the straight men are prominently lazy gents who populate the household, unless paid. Remington comes from the last group but a childhood curse turns him into a twink. And the resolution was a father-son sacrifice that would make a closet queen smile.






The film is escapist for members of the LGBT. It presents something far from the mainstream where mothers must stay home and the gays hide. But here, it's a happy place for gays and women. It may not draw closer to realism but the intentions of its filmmakers is noteworthy. They made Zombadings an allegorical film, turning the gay revolution into a mob of the undead ready to eat heterosexual flesh. Despite this, it seems only the young Remington and the gaydar-touting Daniel Fernando enjoy gay-bashing. The entire community of the fictional Lucban doesn't even see the gays as a threat. They acknowledge the abilities of the fairies from hair styling to housekeeping. In fact, if the women play the cops, the gays take over their responsibilities at home as housemaids. And then from normal, the gay community is even glorified. When Remington decides that he wants to remain gay, Lauren Young tells him he can't because the gays she know fight everyday for love and acceptance - something she believes he can't do. It might be too substantial but it's enough for a gay rights banter. If you think the film's gayness is fake then maybe that line alone will be the most honest. And I would eternally quote it. Don't leave the film during the credits for an even more elaborate message from Angelina Canapi.

Zombadings presents a fictional world where equality reigns and people are happy. Boy would I stay in such a world. But then again I realized - in time (perhaps not too distant from now) that Lucban will be real. - Gio Potes, May 2012.






Directed by Jade Castro. Written by Jade Castro, Raymond Lee & Michiko Yamamoto. Starring Martin Escudero, Lauren Young, Kerbie Zamora, Janice de Belen, John Regala, Angelina Canapi, Daniel Fernando, Roderick Paulate.


Full credits: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1810861/fullcredits#writers



Emma Stone: Provocateur, Advocate.

With all the young talent emerging from the Hollywood canon, at least one of them is smart. Already a major movie star, Emma Stone broke out in the (thinking) industry with Easy A in 2010. I have no probs with the film. It is intelligent. Almost unbelievable, but intelligent. Showing off brilliant comedic timing and witty lines, the meme-rific film almost swallowed whole its juicy concept: teenage sexuality in a conservative social arena. Emma plays Olive, the modern day Scarlet Letter heroine. But she’s very intelligent to know that her own intellectually-restrictive town needs some provoking, and she didn’t care much until she herself became the cause celebre of hypocrite Jesus freaks. The Olive character stood up against the grating anger of the town towards floozies (a setting very familiar here in the Philippines: just the other month, a group of teenage girls almost didn’t graduate because of this chaste image) and she did it by being more provocative. She cut her clothes shorter and wore the red A on every single blouse and shirt, with false sex rumors she intentionally spills for boys’ image charity. She did come around as, to quote a character in the film, a “super slut”. I guess the provoking part did emerge, but what about its resolution? Her whole gesture only seemed like a tease. The Christian high school finally had an erection, but neither was the metaphorical penis castrated or ejaculated. With all the men complaining why there were no tits on her live blog, it shows that the high school didn’t learn a thing from Olive when they should: hmm there are plenty but let’s start with this “How hard it is to be an outcast” or “The one thing that trumps religion… capitalism.”, also “Whatever happened to chivalry?” or finally “Ew. People suck.” What they only learned is that she did not sleep with all those boys, and how much she’s sorry for it. Then again, for the sake of the film’s optimism, what Olive did for the dorky boys she said she slept with is her willingness to avoid bullying (obvious with the gay friend) and to prove that the world has (in some ways) moved on: the nerds are sexier now! The girls can be free with their sexuality! The internet is magnificent! 

The following year, she starred in the screen adaptation of The Help. When she played Eugenia “Skeeter” Phelan, Emma Stone went from Lolita Haze to Atticus Finch. Now she’s a Southern 60s writer in a racist community. But like Olive, she’s ready to break norms. Following the dismissal of her maid Constantine (played by Cicely Tyson) and her friend Hilly’s (Bryce Dallas Howard) continuing bitchery towards the colored help, she started to write a book for black maids who serve the white families of Jackson, Mississippi. Skeeter says it would be different because she will write the situation in the perspective of the help. She interviews two maids (played by Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer in career-best performances) which eventually boosted to more than 20 when the racism in the community increases even more. As expected, Jackson read the book (the sequence showing various women reacting to familiar parts of the book is almost like a shot-for-shot remake of the men reacting to Olive’s blog in Easy A) and warmed-up to the help, honoring them with fried chicken. The colored situation has been told before in the screen, but not with this much gloss and entertainment. The Help is a sugar-coated look at the 60s’ racist issues, but I can’t doubt the half-sincere intentions of the filmmakers. Not with beautiful scenes of two abused maids laughing at the idiocy of the whites, a funny scene with toilets and the role of Jessica Chastain as a white-trash blonde who’s socially colorblind.


Emma Stone’s performance in The Help wasn’t as strong as her portrayal of Olive Penderghast, but it may prove that Stone is intent with playing roles that challenge their surroundings. You wouldn’t know if these are just her own Hollywood gimmicks for relevance, swag or legitimacy but I smiled at Olive and Skeeter not because they were ideal princesses. They surprised me with their willingness to escape the norms, exercise democracy, get dirt in their skirts and lose some on their way. The fate of Skeeter was to be a successful writer in New York, save Jackson from the height of racism and lose the man she didn’t even want. Her individualism is admirable. These roles are real, and with what they do, their intelligence lets them win over the oppression and the stupidity of their communities. And as with Emma Stone, while she enjoys more of the Hollywood glamour, I hope she would also learn from these characters and find her way towards the advocacy for a better, democratic society. Perhaps with less gloss? - Gio Potes, April 2012

RIHANNA'S FEMINIST CHALLENGE: The Madgestic RiRi

"I want to be the black Madonna."

It's obvious why. Not only does Rihanna have every potential to be as successful as Madonna (commercially, at least), she's taking part in an industry Madonna defined: that of female pop culture. A rainmaking single plus a tour on the run, Rihanna already covered a quarter of her idol's success after the release of her third album "Good Girl Gone Bad". The title of the album is a departure itself from the last two RiRi albums, especially the second one, "A Girl Like Me". It let her shift from image to another and focus more on the celebrity rather than the music - that's exactly how Ms. Ciccone liked it.


Her blond ambition was clear with "Take a Bow". From the criminal-to-good girl of "Unfaithful", she now claims the position of the cheated girlfriend. The quality of the song was mixed as it followed the trend set by Beyonce's "Irreplaceable", itself an empowerment anthem devoted to bash cheating boyfriends. But despite its musical limitations, "Take a Bow" makes up for style. It is heavily Madonna-influenced from the title alone (the song is not a cover), and the promotional video is notable for her shift in fashion sense.


As Douglas Kellner researched, fashion is a capitalist industry aimed at defining classes in terms of dress code. It aimed a separation classes ("rich" from "poor", men from women) that mostly oppressed and limited. It dictated while it provided. And through the years, the fashion industry was challenged by some who chose to wear something else.  Judging from Kellner's research and her Madonna connection, Rihanna takes the gender-bending role reminiscent of Madge's own "I'll Remember". In the video of the song, Madonna wore men's formal clothes and a short black wig. In short, she looked like a typical businessman. Cultural critics found the style of the video as feminist, continuing Madonna's early 90s provocation of sexual stereotypes.


With the "Take a Bow" video, Rihanna donned a pixie cut and a Michael Jackson jacket which made her look entirely different from her previous fashion statements."You're so ugly when you cry" she sings in the second verse, looking down at masculinity while inhibiting a macho female persona evident in the NeYo-esque gestures. It's obvious that once again, Rihanna exhibits empowerment within the video. Like Madonna's early 90s efforts, Rihanna challenged norms of style for women, though it wasn't pretty much of a stretch now as it was then. It's no surprise that this new image became one of her most popular. Around 2008 til 2009, the short black pixie cut became the new fashion phenomenon for teenage to twentysomething girls and gay men alike.


I must say Rihanna chose the right role model to follow. "Take a Bow" may not be as shocking as "Unfaithful", but it made Rihanna a trend-setter, at least within fashion. Based on what she did there, that's not a bad thing for a pseudo-feminist. - Gio Potes, March 2012

THE ROYAL HUNGER

Films in point: The Hunger Games (Ross, 2012), Battle Royale (Fukasaku, 2000)


Regarding all this buzz about a film where kids kill each other off for the viewing pleasure of some capitalists, any of you guys remember such a Japanese film called "Battle Royale"?


I haven't seen these two films but I found the success of "The Hunger Games" as good news. It's quite a surprise teenagers are buying the politically-rich context of "The Hunger Games". It's about classes battling it out, and it's quite feminist as well. Flashback 12 years ago and there's "Battle Royale". The film took everything "Hunger" bears to the extremes even before everything about the latter was outed. It's about a battle of classes in a private high school where the children must kill each other under the order of their teacher and the authoritarian government. If not, the teacher himself will have to kill them. I must say, the violence here is unbearable. You can almost feel every hit and bleeding because it's that graphic of a film. The Japanese, they totally know how to conceive horror!


"Battle Royale" gave a rough, exaggerated view of the new millennium's dangerous fascination. "The Hunger Games" may as well be the mainstreamed "Battle Royale". It's graphic but it is conceived within the microscope of Hollywood meaning it's a softer, toned-down reflection of society. I just hope that this new pop culture phenomenon won't end up as just another money-making franchise, but one that would enlighten the thousands of die-hard fans about the condition of their own environment, of their own media fetishes.


With that, "The Hunger Games" surely is worth a watch.

Donnie Dicko

"To summarise briefly, the function of woman in forming the patriarchal unconscious is two-fold: she first symbolises the castration threat by her real absence of a penis, and second thereby raises her child into the symbolic."

- Laura Mulvery, Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema (1975)

RIHANNA'S FEMINIST CHALLENGE: An Unfaithful Girl Like Me

In the midst of a series of disco-infused pop singles within two years, the Barbadian r&b/pop singer Rihanna released a rather odd ballad called "Unfaithful". In the MTV's review of the 2000s, it ranked as one of the best singles of the decade. But pop observers found it incredibly strange at the time. The song is unusual in many ways. First of all, it's a cold haunting song guided by piano chords reminiscent of the band Evanescence. It is about a girl who's becoming a "murderer" - perhaps figuratively, a killer of affection. This concept was much talked about within circles of music scholars because it unconventionally featured a girl in the position of the emotional abuser, and it produced a music video that ignited the flame even more. Yet they dismissed this moment as a talent show-off, that slowburn within pop albums intended to expose the vocal range of the artist. Following her own preservation of dance music in the charts, critics like Sal Cinquemani found the ballad "fucking weird". For me, it's a milestone in Rihanna's career.


Reading the lyrics, one would agree with Cinquemani's observation. In the first verse, she speaks of "searching for the 'Right'" but she assumes that "''Wrong' really loves her company". Then enters the subject of the song: a certain "He". Towards the refrain, it becomes obvious that she is indeed cheating "him". Yet the chorus suggests that she does not want to continue because she considers cheating the honest man as a form of murder. This is a young lady exposing her guilty pleasure, and you can see her confusion in her play of words: "Our love/His trust/I might as well take a gun and put it to his head/Get it over with/I don't wanna do this anymore".


Yet the real departure from the usual Rihanna image comes in the music video where the already dark theme of the song is given a much deeper visualization. It must be noted that she was only 18 when the video was shot, which is another reason why the whole thing about "Unfaithful" became immensely awkward. The video starts with the girl dressing up. Clad in a black fit sleeveless dress, she's vain and titillating. Then on a close-up of the visage, you can see cold beauty. She almost looks like Beyonce, older and maturer than her age yet maintaining a certain Lolita sexiness. Rihanna follows the song's narrative in not going all the way to violence (unlike what happened to the Adrian Lyne film of the same title, obviously an influence). We find the girl tiptoeing around with a white pianist but in the end, she goes back to her faithful man. She embraces him with a facial expression suggesting the guilt aforementioned, but it changes into a sincere smile - this time, she'll be more loyal.


The coming of this moment suggested a whole new different image from the Barbadian singer. It was probably an awkward presence in pop music at the time because it wasn't expected of the artist and it presented a new concept. "Unfaithful" placed Rihanna in the shoes of what seems to be a femme fatale inches away from dangerous crime. Succeeding the blissful "SOS" single, the image here bears the same sexual exposure but it's more confident. The maturely slick physique is perhaps a weapon, a magnet that attracted the likes of two men. And it's probably this sexuality that she is trying to avoid usage.


More notable is the fact that the video presents: that women can also take this side of the relationship. Rihanna's role in this is pretty much a gem - yes, the object of male gaze, but in power and never subverted. Not that I'm endorsing infidelity as a good thing but the way she presented this flipside to the conventional situation calls a much bigger and realistic picture of the nature of complex relationships. One that would call to mind the rise of "friends with benefits" where both male and female agree on the sex but not on the love, hence an issue that threatens the strength of heterosexual union.


The reason why I consider it a milestone in her art is because at the time when she was about to be labeled as just another pop dance flash-in-the-pan, she started off what would be a series of sexually-challenging work. In a ripe age of 18, a pop singer would follow the Lolita example most prominent with Britney Spears, but Rihanna (much like Beyonce) begged a more richer and political presentation of the female. It can also be read as a representation of the neo-colonialism of Barbados (she is smitten by a "white" pianist for a reason) but that's another thing. With "Unfaithful", she has launched a fierce statement against abuse. And as her discography moved along, it got richer and more profound.


- Gio Potes, March 2012

Rihanna’s Feminist Challenge

“I maybe bad, but I’m perfectly good at it.”


Despite all claims that Rihanna is just another pop tart in the music industry, I’d like to argue that she boasts a handful of brilliant songs and corresponding videos that distinguishes her from that list. Not only does she manage to conceive catchy hooks (or maybe Def Jam does that for her), she also captures an era of feminist struggle within her artifice.


In the middle of her young seven-year-old career, she has included in her art feminine modes of guilt, abuse and (finally) sexual liberation and dominance. Half of her popularity is due to the fact that she is a victim of abuse. The much-talked about domestic violence Chris Brown has committed towards the young pop star back in 2008 garnered so much media attention that it scarred the careers of both artists. But to her benefit, Rihanna used the music and visuals to escape the demons of the incident. The recorded songs and videos provided an in-depth approach to her condition. In return, the incident was followed by two dark and personal Rihanna albums. From ‘Rated R’ to ‘Loud’, the artist brought to the mainstream different forms of counterattack both allegedly to Chris Brown and the media, all the while exploring her own sexuality and challenging social norms, not to mention blossoming before the eyes of the audience and winning back loads of cash and undeniable fame.


Yet more significantly, these songs and videos present a good girl gone bad. Bad in a sense that she is not the normative kind of artist, one who sings for the excitement of consumers, (well that is still something to debate on) but a woman who has experienced one of the hardships brought about by a patriarchal system. In a way, the incident and the art that emerged out of it made way for personal statements that women can relate to. Rihanna’s flesh-flashing is not an empty consumerist strategy, too: it’s part of her messages. And whether it is the cause or the effect of her feminist challenge, I can say that it is necessary. And notably after years of these feminist modes, the Barbadian artist tops off her ventures with a solution: a gunshot - the sound of freedom from oppression and vengeful Fury against the oppressor.


Which all raise the question: is Rihanna a feminist?


This summer, I am going to study the feminism surrounding Rihanna’s aesthetics. Starting from the release of ‘Unfaithful’ as a single ‘til the music video of ‘Man Down’ gets banned from several TV stations in the US, the study aims to discover how Rihanna represents female struggles and the 2010s Girl through pop music (which is generated through MTV and the internet: YouTube, Twitter, etc.). Though it’s possible that this era of thought within Rihanna’s career would reach deeper trenches as she grows older and wiser, I believe the incidences surrounding ‘Man Down’ concludes an initial period of feminism that Rihanna herself seemed to emphasize in the first place. Thus, I will focus on the artist’s fruitful middle career right after ‘Music of the Sun’ and before ‘Talk that Talk’. Yet it is still a huge question what exactly Rihanna wants her audience to take from her musical and visual output. For me, she gives women a new understanding of their condition, and solutions for them to fight it.  - Gio Potes, March 2011.

Ganda's Sarcasm

“May nag-blog!”


The rise of Vice Ganda didn’t only offer a new viewpoint of homosexuals in the Philippines - it gave the country a new infectious taste of hilarious sarcasm.


It’s not new to learn that we, Filipinos, mostly ask questions with obvious answers. You see your brother soaking wet after walking under heavy rain and you ask “Naulanan ka?”. You smell the food your mother is cooking and then you ask “Ma, nagluluto ka na?”. And you let a person inside your karinderya and you suddenly ask “Kakain po kayo?”. Vice Ganda, a stand-up comedian now a red-carpet delight, is clearly sick of these and so came his contribution to the endless prominent catchphrases composed of two words ending with an angry exclamation point: “AY, HINDI!”


And surely, even you have been a victim. Vice Ganda’s growing exposure (because of noontime television’s Showtime and soon his own talk show, Gandang Gabi Vice, probably a Pinoy gay counterpart to Ellen) planted a new popular way of speaking in Pinoy pop culture. Boys, girls and gays alike are using this, probably as a way of showing superiority or just to fool around.


Vice shows another concrete example of how gays in the country are indeed one of the most influential sources to new ways and forms of communication. There’s the gay lingo, and now this Vice Ganda-stamped sarcasm that are humorous but are, most importantly, colorful evidences of the Filipino language’s dynamism. Call it destructive, crude or frustrating, you probably just get fooled by it all the time. AY HINDI! - Gio Potes, September 2011