Friday, May 25, 2012

Airport on Mactan Island

Rating:★★★★
Category:Books
Genre: Literature & Fiction
Author:Leoncio Deriada
In Leoncio Deriada’s “Airport on Mactan Island,” a family who has lived near the Mactan airport for a decade, is presented with a number of dilemmas.

One day, the mother, unable to stand the noise of the “steel monsters” or airplanes, frets and desperately wants to leave their house. The father’s dilemma is caused only by the dilemma of the wife. His wife pressures him to consider moving out despite the lot’s sentimental value to him. He is torn between leaving the land—which he inherited—and helping his wife ease her troubles. Their son, meanwhile, is caught up with his own problem. He is exploring the possibility of getting a job in the factory and at the same time is helping his father sell guitars. He is more inclined, though, to get the job rather than help his father.

After I asked my juniors class to stage it in the classroom, three students turned in noteworthy insights, clarifying a number of realities raised by the literary work.

In a piece titled “Just the Way It Is,” Irene Grace Lim begins, “In a usual family setup, the man’s decision is final. At times, his decision is unchangeable. We see the same in Deriada’s “Airport on Mactan Island.”

“The husband’s decision was still the final decision for their family. And although the wife was already starting to lose her mind, out of desperation she wanted to get out of that place, the husband still stood with his unshakeable decision to stay. For him, there’s nowhere to go and there’s no one interested in their land. The man said they could get used to the noise of the airport just like the way he did.

“Though his wife was already desperate, driven to leave the house and even the man she married, the man stood by his decision, which shows that essence that while woman wavers, man maneuvers, then prevails.”

Lissa Angela Suyo, meanwhile, focused on the wife’s character, labeling the piece as a matter of “Faith vs. Fate.” She writes, “Like most Filipino Christians in Cebu, the mother’s faith in the Divine Being is on the Sto. Niño. She prays fervently to the statue so that their condition will improve and so that her son’s job away from their place could somehow change their fate. Unfortunately, faith alone did not help her get what she hoped for. With her husband not cooperating, her son getting rejected, with their home daily bombarded daily, she broke down. She lost faith even in her own self that she could maintain her sanity. She was disgusted with her fate. She hoped that by being a wife, her life would change. She wanted to change their fate, but she did not take action to do that. All she did was to complain.

“The wife was so desperate for a new life that she fell apart when she found out that her son, their last chance, didn’t get the job. She believed that to live in poverty was their fate. She thought that by having faith in the Sto. Niño, her fate will change. In the end, she broke apart...she has lost faith in the Sto. Niño, which strengthened her belief that this was, indeed, her fate.”

Then, in a more sweeping effort to read the piece, Casten Guanzon writes, “Leoncio Deriada opens our eyes to some of the more overlooked aspects of the marginalized poverty, what goes on in the home. The play does not focus on poverty or exploitation but rather the domestic scene in a family whose lives have been twisted by progress. The play starts building momentum when the wife and the husband are left alone in the house and it is here that we see two things in contrast: desperation and action.”

For Guanzon, “Desperation is displayed by the wife who nags the husband to leave the place, eventually hating him as much as the airport and its demonic noise. Her husband, almost her exact opposite, is always controlled and calm in his replies except for some emotional peaks on his part. In the end, she breaks down when the Sto. Niño fails to help her son get the job ultimately failing to deliver her from her own hell. She is distraught and unstable, eventually driven to attempt desecrating the statue as her final act to stop the noise.

“But what of action? After all, is it not the wife who starts making plans and suggesting other places? Yes it is; but it is the husband who has done something and, having failed, focuses on adapting to the airport and improvising for anything in their life it has changed. The husband is the one portraying action here. He is practical. Having tried and failed to sell the land, he focuses instead on maintaining their status of life. The wife, on the other hand, is prepared to make blind leaps in her eagerness to escape that hundredth circle of hell filled with its unholy abominations of steel. She is blind to her husband's reasoning because she, in her state, does not or chooses not to see its sense.”

While Lim and Suyo recognized the distraught character in the wife and the composure of the husband, Guanzon saw the play’s binary opposites—the husband’s action and the wife’s desperation.

All of them agreed on how the dilemma of the wife, which embodies the tragedy designed by the author, is not resolved at all.

20 Minutes before Takeoff

Reading Leoncio Deriada’s “Airport on Mactan Island”


In Leoncio Deriada’s “Airport on Mactan Island,” a family who has lived near the Mactan airport for a decade, is presented with a number of dilemmas.

One day, the mother, unable to stand the noise of the “steel monsters” or airplanes, frets and desperately wants to leave their house. The father’s dilemma is caused only by the dilemma of the wife. His wife pressures him to consider moving out despite the lot’s sentimental value to him. He is torn between leaving the land—which he inherited—and helping his wife ease her troubles. Their son, meanwhile, is caught up with his own problem. He is exploring the possibility of getting a job in the factory and at the same time is helping his father sell guitars. He is more inclined, though, to get the job rather than help his father.

After I asked my juniors class to stage it in the classroom, three students turned in noteworthy insights, clarifying a number of realities raised by the literary work.

dianaaguilart.hostoi.com
In a piece titled “Just the Way It Is,” Irene Grace Lim begins, “In a usual family setup, the man’s decision is final. At times, his decision is unchangeable. We see the same in Deriada’s “Airport on Mactan Island.”

“The husband’s decision was still the final decision for their family. And although the wife was already starting to lose her mind, out of desperation she wanted to get out of that place, the husband still stood with his unshakeable decision to stay. For him, there’s nowhere to go and there’s no one interested in their land. The man said they could get used to the noise of the airport just like the way he did.

“Though his wife was already desperate, driven to leave the house and even the man she married, the man stood by his decision, which shows that essence that while woman wavers, man maneuvers, then prevails.”

Lissa Angela Suyo, meanwhile, focused on the wife’s character, labeling the piece as a matter of “Faith vs. Fate.” She writes, “Like most Filipino Christians in Cebu, the mother’s faith in the Divine Being is on the Sto. Niño. She prays fervently to the statue so that their condition will improve and so that her son’s job away from their place could somehow change their fate. Unfortunately, faith alone did not help her get what she hoped for. With her husband not cooperating, her son getting rejected, with their home daily bombarded daily, she broke down. She lost faith even in her own self that she could maintain her sanity. She was disgusted with her fate. She hoped that by being a wife, her life would change. She wanted to change their fate, but she did not take action to do that. All she did was to complain.

“The wife was so desperate for a new life that she fell apart when she found out that her son, their last chance, didn’t get the job. She believed that to live in poverty was their fate. She thought that by having faith in the Sto. Niño, her fate will change. In the end, she broke apart...she has lost faith in the Sto. Niño, which strengthened her belief that this was, indeed, her fate.”

Then, in a more sweeping effort to read the piece, Casten Guanzon writes, “Leoncio Deriada opens our eyes to some of the more overlooked aspects of the marginalized poverty, what goes on in the home. The play does not focus on poverty or exploitation but rather the domestic scene in a family whose lives have been twisted by progress. The play starts building momentum when the wife and the husband are left alone in the house and it is here that we see two things in contrast: desperation and action.”

For Guanzon, “Desperation is displayed by the wife who nags the husband to leave the place, eventually hating him as much as the airport and its demonic noise. Her husband, almost her exact opposite, is always controlled and calm in his replies except for some emotional peaks on his part. In the end, she breaks down when the Sto. Niño fails to help her son get the job ultimately failing to deliver her from her own hell. She is distraught and unstable, eventually driven to attempt desecrating the statue as her final act to stop the noise.

“But what of action? After all, is it not the wife who starts making plans and suggesting other places? Yes it is; but it is the husband who has done something and, having failed, focuses on adapting to the airport and improvising for anything in their life it has changed. The husband is the one portraying action here. He is practical. Having tried and failed to sell the land, he focuses instead on maintaining their status of life. The wife, on the other hand, is prepared to make blind leaps in her eagerness to escape that hundredth circle of hell filled with its unholy abominations of steel. She is blind to her husband's reasoning because she, in her state, does not or chooses not to see its sense.”

While Lim and Suyo recognized the distraught character in the wife and the composure of the husband, Guanzon saw the play’s binary opposites—the husband’s action and the wife’s desperation.

All of them agreed on how the dilemma of the wife, which embodies the tragedy designed by the author, is not resolved at all.

Jerome Mendoza Hipolito

Sarong Pagbasa kan “Ki Agom” ni Niño Manaog
Facebook Post by Jerome Mendoza Hipolito on Wednesday, May 23, 2012 at 11:19pm

Saro na garo sa mga nakakauyam na pwedeng mangyari sa sarong tawo kun minahali sa harong iyo, na maabutan nin uran sa dalan. Mabasol na sana ini kun nata dai niyan na pigsuksok sa bag an saiyang payong, mala ta nagduwa-duwa kun dadarahon ini o dai, magayon kaya an oras kan paghali niya sa harong.

Kaya kan biglang pigbulos kan langit an saiyang kulog boot, kan daing patabi ining nag-ula kan saiyang laog, Dai siyang naginibo kundi an magpandong kisera kan saiyang panyong gurusot mantang babagtason an dalan pauli, duman kun sain naghahalat an saiyang namumutan.

Alagad kun tutuoson, tano kaibuhan, sabaton an uran kan su babaying agom, nata dai na sana siya magpahuraw kun baga ngaya sa sarong waiting shed o maghapit ngaya baga sa sarong haraning tindahan asin magbakal baratuhon na payong. Ano an nagpugol saiya na magpundo muna, maghalat, mag-isip nganing dai mabasa, dai magkasipon o magkakalintura?

Sa enot na pagbasa kan rawitdawit, romantiko an agom na lalaki, pigtuyaw tulos kaini an kamuntakan kan su babayi na basa-basa kan tubig uran mata ta naunambitan niyang nagtutururo an su'ot [niyang] palda. Kun siring makusugon na marhay an uran. Asin masasabing dawa gurano kakusog kan su uran, pigmarhay kan babayi na pumuli, tano daw? bako daw nagpirit ining magpuli dawa mangkusog kan bulos kan uran dara kan takot kaini, kiisay? Taslot sa agom na lalaki.

Kun Kaya sa ika limang linya nagtarakig an saiyang ngabil dara kan parehong takot asin bako kan lipot sa luwas? Makaduda an maburak na tataramon kan lalaki lalo na an, mari digdi nagparasain ka, Ne? Dawa pwedeng sabihon na rhetorical question,pwede man ining sarong hapot kan tawong daing pagtubod sa agom. An mapakusog kaini iyo an nasabi kan lalaki, nagparapauran ka na naman pauli? An boot sabihon sana, bako ini an enot na napanyaring pinirit kan agom na babayi na pumuli dawa maraot an panahon.

Sa hurihan kan rawitdawit, Dai diriktang pigsambit kun ano an dai masisigbo, sa romantikong paghiling-pagkamoot garo, alagad sa ibang anggulo, takot kan agom na babayi sa agom na lalaki an maurog, an dai nanggad masisigbo, maski magparapauran [pa siya]. 



Reference
Chancoco, Jose Jason, ed. (2005) Salugsog sa Sulog. Tomo Uno, Naga: OragonRepublic.com. p. 32.



Wednesday, May 23, 2012

On Turning Ten by Billy Collins


The whole idea of it makes me feel
like I’m coming down with something,
something worse than any stomach ache
or the headaches I get from reading in bad light--
a kind of measles of the spirit,
a mumps of the psyche,
a disfiguring chicken pox of the soul.

You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
But I can lie on my bed and remember every digit.
At four I was an Arabian wizard.
I could make myself invisible
by drinking a glass of milk a certain way.
At seven I was a soldier, at nine a prince.

But now I am mostly at the window
watching the late afternoon light.
Back then it never fell so solemnly
against the side of my tree house,
and my bicycle never leaned against the garage
as it does today,
all the dark blue speed drained out of it.

This is the beginning of sadness, I say to myself,
as I walk through the universe in my sneakers.
It is time to say good-bye to my imaginary friends,
time to turn the first big number.

It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine.
But now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed. 

 

Billy Collins, born 1941, American


Tuesday, May 01, 2012

Agua de Mayo



Magayonon gayod sa aga; dai ko na mahahangos 
an mabataon na tambotso kan mga awtong maaragi 
sa tinampo. Dai ko na mababása an trapal kan pulitiko 
na itatahub ninda sako ta maparauran nin makusog 
pag-abot na nin hapon. Dai ko na madadangog 
an hibî kan mga aking nagdadaragían, nagpapastidyo 
sa mga magurang na matiripon sa sakong atubang. 
Dai na ko mabisa sa mga tiyuon na puru’nguton. 
Dai ko na kaipuhan bugnuhon an mga pinsan kong hambogon. 
Maparauran na nin makusog, kaya bisan magbángkay 
an agom ko, dai ko na madadangog an saiyang dayúyu.



Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Biernes Santo

Nagpoon na an drama kan mga Hudyo sa radyo, nagdadangog an aki. Sa bintana nata’naw niya paturuyatoy na an mga taga-barangay sa tuytuyan na linagan nin telon sa natad sa may bisita. Makikidalan sinda mapalabas an kapitan kan Ten Commandments. Bago naghali an Tatay kan aki para mag-Disipulo sa kapilya, tinugon siya. Mayo nin malaog ngonyan sa tinapayan. Mayo siyang pinalutong tinapay kansubanggi. Sa agang hapon na pinapabaralik an tumatawo sa bakery. Nag-abot si ilusyon kan katabang nindang si Jonalyn. Hali pang detachment sa Maysalay. Sabi kan daraga sa aki duman niya daa padagoson an bisita sa panaderya. Dai naggirong an aki. Sige na an drama kan mga Hudyo sa radyo. Nagdadangog an aki. Daing sabi-sabi an mag-ilusyon nagsarado sa panaderya. Pagkalaog ninda sa tindahan pigpaparahadukan kan Cafgu an daraga. Dai nakakasayuma an babaye sa purusog na pamugol kan bisita. Dai nagdugay, an irarom kan estante nagpaparayugyog, an mga hurmahan kan katitinapayan saro-sarong nagkakahurulog.




Primerong Lugar sa Kategoryang Rawitdawit
Enot na Gawad Obrang Literaturang Bikolnon
17 Abril 2012, Ciudad nin Naga





Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Se7en Da4s Mak3s 0ne W3ak

An trabaho ta sagkod kalingaan, na paoro-otro sa pitong aldaw kan sarong semana, iyo an nagpapahiro sato. Aru-aldaw garo kita minasakay sa Ferris wheel—minasakat, minababa; kis-a nahahangog kita; kis-a man nakakahingalo kita. Kawasa igwa man daa kitang pinagkakaabalahan, dai kita nalalangkag. Sa kada aldaw na nag-aagi, garo man daa sibot-sibot kita sa satong ginigibo.


Alagad magayon an realidad na ini. Napapamarhay an iribahan tang mga individwal na tawo sagkod an satong sociedad. Nagpapadagos an dalagan kan buhay—sa barangay, sa banwaan, sa siyudad. Por dahil diyan, daing gayo magamo an satong buhay sa kinaban. Kapwa sociedad kag individwal napapamarhay.


Para sa satong trabaho, an satong diskanso amo an regalo. Ukon magsala, naipapagamiaw sato na kita uripon kan siring na kaayusan; kaya an pagmati ta mayo na kitang kapas na baguhon ini. Huna ta logod, kita nag-uuswag, saboot logod niyato kita nagtatalubo. Alagad, padagos sana an paghuna-huna tang ini.


Kawasa nagbabara-ba’lotan an satong pagtrabaho sa indi pagtrabaho, huna ta logod an trabaho sarong pagkastigo, asin an satong kalingaan daing siring man na kamurawayan. Kawasa ta may yara sang oras an satong trabaho, an balor kaini susog sa oras o tiempo, bako sa kun ano man nanggad an satong naginibo. Kawasa an satong obra por ora, igwang istruktura, huna ta man logod sa satong kalingawan kaipuhan mayo sana nin postura.


Nababagol an buhay ta sa paoro-otrong agi kan mga aldaw. An Lunes, iyo an Aldaw nin Kasiributan; Martes, Mierkules, Kasagsagan; Huwebes, adlaw nin Kapagalan, na papadiskansuhon kan Biernes, na iyo an garo baga GRO na minakitik asin minatao nin hingalo sa hapo ta nang mga lawas, an promisang aldaw kan Kasiraman na mayo man nin kasiguruhan.


An promisang ini segun man sana sa paghuna-huna na minagayon an buhay ta sa kalingaan sa duwang adlaw na mayo kita nin obra. Siempre an promisang ini dai man nauutob. Pagdatong kan Sabado sagkod Domingo, nalilingawan ta na an mga nangyari sa nag-aging semana—marhay man o malain—minaha’dit, minaandam naman kita liwat sa Lunes na paabot pa sana.


Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

kis-a, minsan

magamo, magulo

ukon, o

indi, dai

may yara, igwa



Susog sa obra ni Robert Grudin, Time and the Art of Living. New York: Ticknor and Fields, 1982, 156.


Se7en Da4s Mak3s 0ne W3ak


An trabaho ta sagkod kalingaan, na paoro-otro sa pitong aldaw kan sarong semana, iyo an nagpapahiro sato. Aru-aldaw garo kita minasakay sa Ferris wheel—minasakat, minababa; kis-a nahahangog kita; kis-a man nakakahingalo kita. Kawasa igwa man daa kitang pinagkakaabalahan, dai kita nalalangkag. Sa kada aldaw na nag-aagi, garo man daa sibot-sibot kita sa satong ginigibo.

Alagad magayon an realidad na ini. Napapamarhay an iribahan tang mga individwal na tawo sagkod an satong sociedad. Nagpapadagos an dalagan kan buhay—sa barangay, sa banwaan, sa siyudad. Por dahil diyan, daing gayo magamo an satong buhay sa kinaban. Kapwa sociedad kag individwal napapamarhay.

Para sa satong trabaho, an satong diskanso amo an regalo. Ukon magsala, naipapagamiaw sato na kita uripon kan siring na kaayusan; kaya an pagmati ta mayo na kitang kapas na baguhon ini. Huna ta logod, kita nag-uuswag, saboot logod niyato kita nagtatalubo. Alagad, padagos sana an paghuna-huna tang ini.

Kawasa nagbabara-ba’lotan an satong pagtrabaho sa indi pagtrabaho, huna ta logod an trabaho sarong pagkastigo, asin an satong kalingaan daing siring man na kamurawayan. Kawasa ta may yara sang oras an satong trabaho, an balor kaini susog sa oras o tiempo, bako sa kun ano man nanggad an satong naginibo. Kawasa an satong obra por ora, igwang istruktura, huna ta man logod sa satong kalingawan kaipuhan mayo sana nin postura.

Nababagol an buhay ta sa paoro-otrong agi kan mga aldaw. An Lunes, iyo an Aldaw nin Kasiributan; Martes, Mierkules, Kasagsagan; Huwebes, adlaw nin Kapagalan, na papadiskansuhon kan Biernes, na iyo an garo baga GRO na minakitik asin minatao nin hingalo sa hapo ta nang mga lawas, an promisang aldaw kan Kasiraman na mayo man nin kasiguruhan.

An promisang ini segun man sana sa paghuna-huna na minagayon an buhay ta sa kalingaan sa duwang adlaw na mayo kita nin obra. Siempre an promisang ini dai man nauutob. Pagdatong kan Sabado sagkod Domingo, nalilingawan ta na an mga nangyari sa nag-aging semana—marhay man o malain—minaha’dit, minaandam naman kita liwat sa Lunes na paabot pa sana.

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
kis-a, minsan
magamo, magulo
ukon, o
indi, dai
may yara, igwa


Susog sa obra ni Robert Grudin, Time and the Art of Living. New York: Ticknor and Fields, 1982, 156.

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

Servicio

“Ich dien,” iyo ni an panáta kan prinsipe kan Wales—maserbe ako. Sabi ni Jose Ortega y Gasset sa libron Invertebrate Spain, kadtong panahon an pagserbe bako sanang kagalang-gálang sagkod magayon gibohon kundi iyo sana ini an paagi ta nganing an tawo makapadágos, ta nganing an katawohan makaantos. Ngonyan na sana man an servicio bako nang gustong sabihon regalo,  kundi sarong kontrata; ngonyan saro na sana ining obligayon na an katumbas kwárta. Ngonyan na sana man an inaapod na servicio igwa nin presyo—kadaklan na beses halangkáwon pa an singil sa kagamáy na gibo. Alagad an totoong kantidad kan servicio sa tawo bako sanang kwarta, kundi an saiyang kalipayan, an saiyang kaogmáhan. An ginasiling tang servicio nagi na sana ngonyan isa ka produkto—ginapangdalok kun bagaman ipabakal, kaya tinatawad, binabarát—parating linalangkába sa mga karatula sagkod media na dai na man makatutubod.


Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
kagamay, kadikit
kalipayan, kaogmahan
ginasiling, sinasabi
isa ka, saro na
ginapangdalok, pinapan-imot



Biligaynon [Binikol sagkod Hiniligayon] kan “Service.” Yaon sa Worldy Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner, Viking Press, 1990.

Servicio


“Ich dien,” iyo ni an panáta kan prinsipe kan Wales—maserbe ako. Sabi ni Jose Ortega y Gasset sa libron Invertebrate Spain, kadtong panahon an pagserbe bako sanang kagalang-gálang sagkod magayon gibohon kundi iyo sana ini an paagi ta nganing an tawo makapadágos, ta nganing an katawohan makaantos. Ngonyan na sana man an servicio bako nang gustong sabihon regalo,  kundi sarong kontrata; ngonyan saro na sana ining obligayon na an katumbas kwárta. Ngonyan na sana man an inaapod na servicio igwa nin presyo—kadaklan na beses halangkáwon pa an singil sa kagamáy na gibo. Alagad an totoong kantidad kan servicio sa tawo bako sanang kwarta, kundi an saiyang kalipayan, an saiyang kaogmáhan. An ginasiling tang servicio nagi na sana ngonyan isa ka produkto—ginapangdalok kun bagaman ipabakal, kaya tinatawad, binabarát—parating linalangkába sa mga karatula sagkod media na dai na man makatutubod.


Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
kagamay, kadikit
kalipayan, kaogmahan
ginasiling, sinasabi
isa ka, saro na
ginapangdalok, pinapan-imot


Biligaynon [Binikol sagkod Hiniligayon] kan “Service.” Yaon sa Worldy Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes A. Gaertner, Viking Press, 1990.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Sagurong, 2011

Sagurong: 100 na Kontemporanyong Rawitdawit sa Manlain-lain na Tataramon Bikol, 2011





Sunday, March 25, 2012

Beautiful Monsters


Save for one poignant scene in Richard Somes’s Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang, the rest of the movie leaves a number of unresolved settings, let’s call them clutter, that only puzzle the audience.

This scene involves Erich Gonzales’s Corazon fleeing the townsfolk and Derek Ramsey’s Daniel escaping the personal army of the landlord Matias (Mark Gil) in the post-World War II sakadas, most probably in the vast lands of Negros. (Immediately this mention of probability is only one among the many unresolved elements that cloud the essence of the movie. Aside from the landlord-tenant relationship which was prevalent elsewhere in the post-war Philippines, no other elements in the movie can make us infer it happened particularly there.)

In the village of Magdalena, Daniel, the loving farmer husband of the innocently beautiful Corazon, has just murdered the landlord Matias in his own mansion after the couple’s house was burned down by the goons. And the wounded Corazon, after being shot by Matias when she devoured his daughter Melissa in her bed, has also been found (and found out) by one of Daniel’s friends to be the one responsible for the killings of children in the village.

Both Daniel and Corazon are fleeing the enraged townsfolk who want to kill the village murderer. The scene rips your heart because both characters are rather fleeing their own created monsters. Daniel has murdered the landlord in retaliation for having burned their house; while Corazon has just been found out responsible for having devoured the children in the village. What rips your heart more is that the couple only wanted to have a child but the wife’s devotion to San Gerardo failed them—after Corazon delivered a stillborn. So the reality of a dead baby drove the main character Corazon (the could-have been mother) to curse God and throw her faith away to the dark.

The man-on-the-road element in this work of fiction is rendered well in this climactic scene, with the score swelling as the couple flees their pursuers heightening the drama and resolving it to the conclusion—as in the French term denouement (day-no-man)—when the couple vanish in the dark. So there.

Notes on Camp
In the 1960s, American writer Susan Sontag was brought to the world limelight after she pinpointed that camp is the “love of the unnatural, the artifice and exaggeration.” Well, we have seen camp movies proliferate in the horror flicks of the Filipino directors in the 80s—Shake, Rattle and Roll series and tons of other films in the same vein that entertained the generation of that decade. Through time, we have seen tendencies of Filipino movies to make use of camp, which refers to the effects that the film made to scare the audience by propping monsters and supernaturals so they look hideous or horrible only to make them appear outrageously odd or simply outrageous.

In Corazon, these include madwoman Melinda’s (Tetchie Agbayani) over-disheveled wig which rather exaggerates Diana Ross’s afro look. When I saw this, prizewinning fictionist critic Rosario Cruz-Lucero came to mind. In cases like this, Cruz-Lucero hints at the creative sense that an author needs not “overkill” the essence of what he is portraying by overdoing descriptions and attributes that have already been established.

The movie was trapped in the premise that a madwoman must really appear overly unkempt and dirty with her tattered outfit, teeth and all—or totally taong grasa so audience knows she is mad. And mad. And really mad. But there is just no need for Agbayani’s Melinda to appear this ridiculous so she could portray her Sisa character [she’s looking for her daughter who disappeared during the war]. I suppose Agbayani is fairly a good actress that her delivery of lines or a dramatic monologue alone could make us infer without a doubt she is a Sisa who was driven mad because she lost her child to the war.

Furthermore, we cannot see the relevance of Eric Gonzales’s Corazon putting on a baboy-damo mask to cloud her real intentions that she is the village monster preying on the innocent victims. What is Corazon’s reason for doing that? In the first place, where did she get the mask? Even the metallic effect of the face of the mask strikes us like it was stolen from the set of Kate Beckinsale’s Underworld which is too European to be accepted into the Filipino sensibility. Or talk of the masks used by  gladiators in Ridley Scott's Gladiator. Employing all these is more than camp, but more appropriately a rushed second-year high school drama production.

The movie also badly suffers from the complicated plot which requires more show time for them to be unraveled and resolved. Questions. Is Melinda the lost mother of Matias’s daughter Melissa? Or is Corazon the lost daughter of Melinda? We do not know. But it seemed as if the movie showed we knew they were. While it could have just dwelt on the legend of the aswang, or how the first human-eating human being came to be—initially called halimaw in the film—the movie touched on other sensibilities and opened territories where the other characters dwelt but which it did not pursue or explore at all.

Both Beautiful and Monstrous
At the time the halimaw devours the village children one by one, Corazon contorts her head like the way it is done in the Asian horror flicks that became the norm made popular by the Japanese original Ring in early 2000s. Sadly, the movie reeks of this hackneyed style which looked fresh only the first time it’s done in those days.

While the supporting characters of Mon Confiado’s and Epy Quizon’s are comfortable, Maria Isabel Lopez’s Aling Herminia is a revelation. Her portrayal of the relihiyosa in the less-than-two-minuter scene as the partera (quack midwife) is eerie and astonishingly original. The rest is unmemorable.

In some instances, also, both of the main characters deliver their intense scenes well. For one, Erich Gonzales’s childbirth is more convincing than other women who fake their ires and arrays in most films; while Ramsay’s macho tendencies and naturalness are without question.

The mestiza face of Erich Gonzales may be deemed realistic because she was said to be the love child of her mother and an American soldier during the war. But the placing of Derek Ramsay as the farmer Daniel, whose roots we barely know, is farcical. If at all, the movie does not make clear the background of Daniel. He is too sculpted to be just a humble farmer in the barrio—he hunts boars after he works out in the Fil-Am-Jap bodybuilding gym. Funny. Mon Confiado would be the more believable Daniel. Their metropolitan or cosmopolitan twang, could have been reworked to render their rustic characters more realistic. Talk of George VI doing the entire movie reworking his tongue in The King’s Speech. The lead actors are too beautiful to be monstrous because they look too polished for these rustic roles. Ultimately they appear ridiculous. Sadly camp.


“Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang”
Erich Gonzales, Derek Ramsay, Mark Gil, Epi Quizon, Maria Isabel Lopez, Tetchie Agbayani
Directed by Richard Somes
Skylight Films, 2012

Resisténsya


Aba ánang sirám kan buhay kan mga táwong igwá kaini. An resisténsya kan sarong táwo susog sa saiyang salud, sa mga bágay na namána niya sa pamilya, sa kultura, sa klima, sa saiyang kinakakán; segun man sa mga pangyayári sa saiyang palibot, sa saiyang komunidád o ibán pa. An sinasábi tang resisténsya dai nakatiwangwáng sana. Bakong gamá-gamá. Kun igwa kita nin resisténsya, dai ta saná mapapangyári an mga bágay, madadaog ta pa an minakontra sato. Kun an gamá-gamá ngaya iyo an tubig, an resisténsya iyo an kinompresor na tubig. Kaipuhan tang manu’dan kun pa’no gamiton an ináapod na resisténsya, o an báskog nga kusog. An mga nagpaparádaralágan nin hararáyo dai man tulos minakurutipas pagtanog pa saná kan silbáto. Mayong kitang dakul na magiginibo kun dai maluwáyluway, dai matyaga. Kun igwá man kita nin kusog alágad pabiribigla man lang, siring yan sa kikilát na biglang matáma sa dagá, nakakakilaghán, nakakadiskwido, alágad waáy pulós. An ginasiling na  resisténsya iyo an kuryenteng hababa saná an boltáhe, alágad haloy na panahon matao nin enerhiya, mahátag sang kusog, sige sanáng láad, dai napapalsok.





Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
iban, iba
báskog, maurag, pinakamarhay
nga, na
waáy pulós, mayong kamanungdanan
ginasiling, sinasabing
mahatag, matao
sang, nin


Susog sa “Energy” na yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes Gaertner. New York: Viking Press, 1990, 75.




My Brother’s Keeper


Pirang banggi ko nang napapangiturugan
si Manoy. Kadto, ginaupod niya pa ko
sa lawod, nagpapangke kami magpoon
alas tres nin hapon asta nang magdiklom.
Sa ponongan, nagdadakop kaming kasili,
mga halas sa tubig, ta ngani daang
dai maubos an lukon na maaani. Pagkaretira
ko sarong hapon, dai ko na siya naabtan
sa harong. Hambal ni Iloy, nagpakadto kuno
siya sa sarong misyon. Dai man lamang sako
nagpasabong na mapanaw siya gilayon.
Hambal ni Amay, dai na dapat siya halaton
kay indi na siya mabwelta sa amon. An tugon
sa ginikanan, hulaton kuno an panahon
na kaming tanan nga pamilya paapodon
kan masunod na pamayo kan nasyon.


Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
ginaupod, iniiba
ponongan, fish pond
lukon, sugpo, o darakulang pasayan
hambal, sabi
Iloy, Nanay
nagpakadto, nagduman
kuno, daa
mapanaw, mahali
Amay, Tatay
kay, ta
indi, dai
sa amon, samuya
ginikanan, magurang
hulaton, halaton
tanan, gabos

Pagtaóng-gálang


Sang naglígad, amo ini an satuyang panukol o palatandaan kan sarong tawong maáyo an pagpadakula. Dai naghaloy, nawara na sana sato an pagtaóng-gálang. Sa katunayan, kadaklan na beses, naoogma pa kita kun mayo ni, na garo logod ini pakaraot o pakitang-tao sana. Dai.

Igwang tiempo kadtong an pag-“tabi-apo” sa mga lugar na sagrado, an pagtaóng-gálang sa mga banal na tawo, an pagdungog sa yaon halangkaw sa puwesto, sa igwang kaálam, sa gurang, sa maboot, sa mabini, sa matali, sa magayon an ugali, nagparahay bako sana sa nasambit nang ta(ma)wo o grupo, kundi mismo sa tawong nagtaóng-gálang. Sa pagtataóng-gálang, an duwa nagakalípay, napapamarhay.

Saro ning pagbisto sa mga nakakalangkaw, nakakamarhay, hapós kag udok sa boot na ginahatag kan tawong pareho man ninda kagalang-galang, pareho man ninda kamarhay.


Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon
sang naglígad, kan nakaagi, kadto
amo, iyo
maáyo, marhay, magayon
kaálam, kaaraman, kabatiran
tamawo, tawong lipod
nagakalípay, naoogma
hapós, pasil, madali
kag, sagkod
ginahatag, tinatao


Susog sa “Respect” yaon sa Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes Gaertner. New York: Viking Press, 1990, 74.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang

Rating:★★
Category:Movies
Genre: Horror
Erich Gonzales, Derek Ramsay, Mark Gil, Epi Quizon, Maria Isabel Lopez, Tetchie Agbayani
Directed by Richard Somes
Skylight Films, 2012

Save for one poignant scene in Richard Somes’s Corazon: Ang Unang Aswang, the rest of the movie leaves a number of unresolved scenes, let’s call them clutter, that rather only puzzle the audience.

This scene involves Erich Gonzales’s Corazon fleeing the townsfolk and Derek Ramsey’s Daniel escaping the personal army of the landlord Matias (Mark Gil) in the post-World War II sakadas, most probably in the vast lands of Negros. (Immediately this mention of probability is only one among the many unresolved elements that cloud the essence of the movie. Aside from the landlord-tenant relationship which was prevalent elsewhere in the post-war Philippines, no other elements in the movie can make us infer it happened particularly there.)

In the village of Magdalena, Daniel, the loving farmer husband of the innocently beautiful Corazon, has just murdered the landlord Matias in his own mansion after the couple’s house was burned down by the goons. And the wounded Corazon, after being shot by Matias when she devoured his daughter Melissa in her bed, has also been found (and found out) by one of Daniel’s friends to be the one responsible for the killings of children in the village.

Both Daniel and Corazon are fleeing the enraged townsfolk who want to kill the village murderer. The scene rips your heart because both characters are rather fleeing their own created monsters. Daniel has murdered the landlord in retaliation for having burned down their house; while Corazon has just been found out responsible for having devoured the children in the village.

What rips your heart more is that the couple only wanted to have a child but the wife’s devotion to San Gerardo failed them—after Corazon delivered a stillborn. So the reality of a dead baby drove the main character Corazon (the could-have been mother) to curse God and throw her faith away to the dark.

The man-on-the-road element in this work of fiction is rendered well in this climactic scene, with the score swelling as the couple flees their pursuers heightening the drama and resolving it to the conclusion—as in the French term denouement (day-no-man)—when the couple vanish in the dark. So there.

In the 1960s, American writer Susan Sontag was brought to the world limelight after she pinpointed that camp is the “love of the unnatural, the artifice and exaggeration.”

Well, we have seen camp movies proliferate in the horror flicks of the Filipino directors in the 80s—Shake, Rattle and Roll series and tons of other films in the same vein that entertained the generation of that decade.

Through time, we have seen tendencies of Filipino movies to make use of camp, which refers to the effects that the film made to scare the audience by propping monsters and supernaturals so they look hideous or horrible only to make them appear outrageously odd or simply outrageous.

In Corazon, these include madwoman Melinda’s (Tetchie Agbayani) over-disheveled wig which rather exaggerates Diana Ross’s afro look. When I saw this, prizewinning fictionist critic Rosario Cruz-Lucero came to mind. In cases like this, Cruz-Lucero hints at the creative sense that an author needs not “overkill” the essence of what he is portraying by overdoing descriptions and attributes that have already been established.

The movie was trapped in the premise that a madwoman must really appear overly unkempt and dirty with her tattered outfit, teeth and all—or totally taong grasa so audience knows she is mad. And mad. And really mad. But there is just no need for Agbayani’s Melinda to appear this ridiculous so she could portray her Sisa character [she’s looking for her daughter who disappeared during the war]. I suppose Agbayani is fairly a good actress that her delivery of lines or a dramatic monologue alone could make us infer without a doubt she is a Sisa who was driven mad because she lost her child to the war.

Furthermore, we cannot see the relevance of Eric Gonzales’s Corazon putting on a baboy-damo mask to cloud her real intentions that she is village monster preying on the innocent victims. What is Corazon’s reason for doing that? In the first place, where did she get the mask? Too implausible. Even the metallic effect of the face of the mask strikes us like it was stolen from the set of Kate Beckinsale’s Underworld which is too European to be accepted into the Filipino sensibility. Employing all these is more than camp, but more appropriately a rushed second-year high school drama production.

The movie also suffers from the complicated plot which requires more show time for them to be unraveled and resolved. Questions. Is Melinda the lost mother of Matias’s daughter Melissa? Or is Corazon the lost daughter of Melinda? We do not know. But it seemed as if the movie showed we knew they were.

While it could have just dwelt on the legend of the aswang, or how the first human-eating human being came to be—initially called halimaw in the film—the movie touched on other sensibilities and opened territories where the other characters dwelt but which it did not pursue or explore at all.

At the time the halimaw devours the village children one by one, Corazon contorts her head like the way it is done in the Asian horror flicks that became the norm made popular by the Japanese original Ring in early 2000s. Sadly, the movie reeks of this hackneyed style which looked fresh only the first time it’s done in those days.

While the supporting characters of Mon Confiado’s and Epy Quizon’s are comfortable, Maria Isabel Lopez’s Aling Herminia is a revelation. Her portrayal of the relihiyosa in the less-than-two-minuter scene as the partera (quack midwife) is eerie and astonishingly original. The rest is unmemorable.

In some instances, also, both of the main characters deliver their intense scenes well. For one, Erich Gonzales’s childbirth is more convincing than other women who fake their
ires and arrays in most films; while Ramsay’s macho tendencies and naturalness are without question.

The mestiza face of Erich Gonzales may be deemed realistic because she was said to be the love child of her mother and an American soldier during the war.

But the placing of Derek Ramsay as the farmer Daniel, whose roots we barely know, is farcical. If at all, the movie does not make clear the background of Daniel. He is too sculpted to be just a humble farmer in the barrio—he hunts boars after he works out in the Fil-Am-Jap bodybuilding gym. Funny. Mon Confiado would be the more believable Daniel.

Further, the lead actors' metropolitan or cosmopolitan twang, could have been reworked to render their rustic characters more realistic. Talk of George VI doing the entire movie reworking his tongue in The King’s Speech. They are too beautiful to be monstrous because they look too polished for these rustic roles. Ultimately they appear ridiculous. Sadly camp.

Monday, March 12, 2012

Pagtaóng-gálang

Sang naglígad, amo ini an satuyang panukol o palatandaan kan sarong taong maáyo an pagpadakula. Dai naghaloy, nawara na sana sato an pagtaóng-gálang. Sa katunayan, kadaklan na beses, naoogma pa kita kun mayo ‘ni, na garo logod ini pakaraot o pakitang-tao sana. Dai.


Igwang tiempo kadtong an pag-“tabi-apo” sa mga lugar na sagrado, an pagtaóng-gálang sa mga banal na tawo, an pagdungog sa yaon sa halangkaw na puwesto, sa igwang kaálam, sa gurang, sa marahay, sa mabini, sa matali, sa magayon an ugali, nagtao man nin onra bako sana sa nasambit nang tawo o grupo, kundi mismo sa tawong nagtaóng-gálang. Sa pagtataóng-gálang, an duwa nagakalípay, napapamarhay.


Saro ning pagbisto sa mga nakakalangkaw, nakakamarhay, hapós kag udok sa boot na tinatao kan tawong pareho man ninda kagalang-galang, pareho man ninda kamarhay.


 

Sinurublian sa Hiligaynon

sang naglígad, kan nakaagi, kadto

amo, iyo

maáyo, marhay, magayon

kaálam, kaaraman, kabatiran

nagakalípay, naoogma

hapós, pasil, madali

kag, sagkod




Susog sa “Respect” yaon sa
 Worldly Virtues: A Catalogue of Reflections ni Johannes Gaertner. New York: Viking Press, 1990, 74.

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