In 'Shock Value,' Infotainment Skewered Further

"I'm as mad as hell, and I won't be taking this anymore," raged a brilliantly mad news anchor played by Peter Finch in the '70s movie "Network." And he leads his millions of evening-news viewers in shouting the same line outside their windows. Ratings soar.

Dulaang UP's recent production "Shock Value" follows the argument of the cinematic satire that television, despite Sesame Street, Nat Geo and the Discovery Channel, has led to the severe dumbing down of a nation's citizens, and all for the greedy corporate cause of TV ratings.

Playwright Floy Quintos, who works for TV, knows where he's coming from when he wrote such caricature-ish characters as producer-host Matt Desaparecidos (shrewd but unwitting patsy in a network war), "distinguished" news anchor Dina Mañalac-Guevarra who has come down from covering plum straight news assignments to reporting on celebrity scandals, the fake love teams, the has-beens ("You’re so last year" goes a memorable line) desperate for a comeback, the no-talents just as hungry for a break, the screaming fags and PAs behind the scenes.

To add to the ambience of a TV soundstage, two wide LCDs are placed on opposite ends of the stage and a wider projector above the audience. The theater audience becomes part of the show, cued by a floor director to laugh, cry or applaud until they do it on their own. Laugh and scream at the right places.

It all begins with Matt being caught by a rival TV show about to sodomize a minor. From there the damage control takes off and lies are fed on more lies with the culprit making tearful onscreen confessions the way actors and similar celebrities caught in a no-no act do in daily/weekly TV, whether it's "Oprah" or "The Buzz."

Then it all becomes too much for Matt, and as his name suggests, he disappears…to the remote island of Polilio, Quezon, where TV, even radio, signals are weak. This builds up to a hilarious bidding of rival networks for images of him and his ex-lover embracing in reconciliation.

Director Alexander Cortez and the cast have put on quite a show that hits where it hurts. The merry mix of veteran actors and young theater arts graduates make for an interesting onstage chemistry although we found film actress Mylene Dizon weak of voice, even unable to suppress an attack of giggles when she misses her lines in the beach scene. When facing down the scene-stealing Frances Makil Ignacio as Dina, Dizon is simply out-glittered.

In another three years ("Shock Value" was originally staged in 2006), what new monsters will the TV medium breed? A character's portentous words at the closing of Act One: "We just dredge up old stuff and give it a new spin."

Photo from CINDERELLA MAYO's Facebook album

The A(m)patuan Ladies Go Shopping at Greenbelt 5

This spoof was performed at the opening of Babeth Lolarga's exhibition of paintings “BLING BLINGS & LUCKY ME,” at Taumbayan bar, 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City, on April 9 before an audience of journalists, writers, visual artists, singers, friends and family members. The exhibition of paintings is still on view until May 8. The venue's business hours are from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m.

Cast in order of appearance:

1. Frances Makil Ignacio as Princess Leia

2. Kate Sabate as Princess Minor Key

3. Joel Saracho as Himself

VOICEOVER: This is a fictitious skit inspired by a Philippine Daily Inquirer item in the Lifestyle section published in December 2009. In that item, the salesladies of a luxury brand boutique in Greenbelt, Makati City, voiced their sadness, saying how
much they missed the women of the A(m)patuan clan. These women are their favorite customers. They are world-class shopaholics known for buying high-end clothes and accessories in bulk and paying for these in cash. Last Christmas season, the women were sorely missed because they were lying low. Public opinion was strongly against the clan and its men who were considered the criminals behind the massacre of more than 50 people, most of whom were journalists. Today, nearly five months since
the massacre, public outrage seems to be waning as most people are keener on the outcome of the 2010 Philippine Presidential race. This morning, however, two members of the A(m)patuan clan slipped out of Maguindanao province by chopper to exercise retail relief.

Two princesses (wearing crowns but regular designer clothes, not Muslim royal wear) descend from the second floor of Taumbayan. Joel rushes to meet them.

JOEL (approaches ladies, extends hand to help them with bags): Gandang hapon po. May I help you?

PRINCESS LEIA (raises eyebrows and chin, straightens back to full height after handing bags over to Joel, then speaks with a thick Visayan accent): Anu ba tong ples na itish? Bar, bestro, galiri, ol op
d abob? Ba’t waray air-con? Enet pa. Kagagaleng lang namin ng sester ko sa Mekati. We jes want a cool drenk bago kami umuwi sa condo. I don’t want to leb our things sa chopper. Maherap na ang panahon. Dameng break-ins. Bagung bele ko pa naman etong Luis Vetoon bag.

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (imitates stance of Leia as she also hands shopping bags to Joel): Iced tea for me, please. Are you the head waiter?

JOEL (smilingly leads princesses to center table for two, puts bags gently down on the floor, signals to waiter to send iced tea
to the 2 customers): Chong, 2 glasses iced tea para sa kanila. Ako po si Joel Saracho (bows, then turns to audience as though awaiting applause). Isa ako sa mga partner dito sa Taumbayan. Yes, it’s a bar, bistro at alternative art space.

PRINCESS LEIA and PRINCESS MINOR KEY (bristling upon hearing the word Taumbayan and echoing one another, swiveling heads and eyeing the audience suspiciously): Taumbayan? Taumbayan ka mo? (turning to one
another, clasping their hands across the table in fear) Taumbayan?

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (in chiding, I-told-you-so manner): Sis, we don’t have our close-in security with us. You told me to leave them behind coz nobody but nobody recognizes us.

JOEL (rubs the back of Princess Minor Key in gesture of assurance): This is a safe place po. Our politician and millionaire friends leave their armed guards at home. Again, I’m Joel. And you are?

PRINCESS MINOR KEY (squirms when Joel touches her back, shrugs him off and speaks in English with an American twang): Who we are? We are the princesses A(m)patuan of A(m)patuan town, Maguindanao. That there is my
older sister, her royal highness Princess Leia. I am Princess Minor Key. We just flew in today in our Papa Doc’s choppper to seewhat’s new at Greenbelt 5. We couldn’t shop till we drop last Christmas, you know. That killing field—all media-manufactured stories. This summer is our chance to shop now that the palms of the
men in our family are being greased because of the coming elections. Our order for iced tea is taking a teeny weenie bit too long, Joel (crosses legs and looks at Joel snootily from head to foot).

PRINCESS LEIA (widens eyes at younger sister, kicks Minor Key’s leg under the table and hisses aloud): Ano ka ba, Inday Meenor? Mano bang tumahimik ka? Pahamak ka talaga!

JOEL (his turn to raise both eyebrows at the sisters, puffs his chest, frowns, seethes, fumes, picks up a beer bottle by its neck from the neighboring table, clasps and unclasps it as though holding back his temper): Kayo pala ang A(m)patuan sistahs, ha? Enjoy the evening if you can get out of this place alive! (turns his back at the two women and entertains other guests)

PRINCESSES LEIA and MINOR KEY hurriedly pick up their shopping bags. Leia trips & contents of bag spill out. Joel turns to look at the minor commotion. Picks up a shoe, examines it, turns it over and over, rubs the leather, smells the sole.

JOEL (in a voice triumphant): Tiangge ng Greenhills!!! Pa Louis Vuitton, Louis Vuitton pa kayo! (signals able-bodied waiter) Waiter, i-escort itong mga pretensiyosang prinsesita sa labas.

Waiter escorts the two women.

WAITER (in a solicitous tone): Saan ho uwi niyo? Greenhills? Alabang?
Valle Verde?

PRINCESSES LEIA (recovering her airs): Quezon City, excuse me.

WAITER: Ahh. Sa La Vista? New Manila? O Ayala Heights po?

PRINCESSES LEIA and MINOR KEY (in unison again): SA TATALON!!! AY YAWA! (stomping off to Exit, mustering as much
dignity as they can)

THE END

A version of this skit with the actors' ad libs & improvisations can be viewed at this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-c7bpWWajeM
See more
www.youtube.com

Thank you, SINAG DE LEON, for documenting the performance.

‘Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady’: The Story Behind the Painting

Sometime in February this year, my youngest of four sisters, Gigi Lolarga (poker nut to me, Eugenia Celerina D. Lolarga in her birth certificate), asked me, her ate, what my birthday gift was for her. Normally, I’d pull something out of my thin wallet. But that day, all I could promise her was a portrait of Bruno Lolarga, her “son.”

The image of the playful pug Brunski stayed in my mind like an old refrain, so to speak. When friends like Brenda V. Fajardo, my former professor in modern art in the mid-1970s (gosh, this really dates me) fell seriously ill followed by Rey Rimando, math prof at UP Baguio and my children’s math tutor who made them less fearful of numbers (his aneurysm struck on Valentine week) and Noel Cuizon (a nephew of Brenda’s, by the way), there was no way my earnings as a freelance writer would contribute anything of significance to the cost of their operations, recuperation, follow-up with medical specialists, rehabilitation, etc.

By this time I was keeping mind, breaking heart and sometimes unsteady hands busy by painting in preparation for a solo show at Taumbayan bar-bistro.

I texted my exhibit proposal to Joel Saracho, former colleague from Manila Standard days and manager-partner of the bar, who was on a video shoot in Bukidnon, but he managed to reply, “That’s so Taumbayan,” meaning he approved of my contrasting blings with canned goods and instant noodles.

Summer of last year, he invited me to exhibit there when it was just a few months old. Since then, the place has been a night owl’s hub for the theater and television people who keep odd (a.k.a. vampire ) hours. I felt right at home that first time there with Gou de Jesus and Ernie Enriquez.

Someone was having a birthday then—Augie Rivera, if my blinking memory is working right. We were complete strangers to one another but were quickly introduced. Like any hospitable birthday celebrator, he asked me to partake of his feast. Un-shy when faced with a rectangular slab of Estrel’s caramel cake, I cut a generous slice complete with rosebud-shaped icing. Talk of feel at home. I always like to use William Saroyan’s title for his book “My Kind of Crazy, Wonderful People” in situations like this.

To shorten this narration, one day in March this year I posted a picture of Bruno on my Facebook profile and stated that I intended to paint a portrait of him paired with a snooty señorita. The images of him with a lady were up there, still vague. Actor Frances Makil Ignacio, Nitz to those who know her, volunteered in her comment to be the model. I asked permission if I could scour her photos posted in her profile to guide me.

I zeroed in on Frances in a black and white polka dotted dress, which turned out to be her costume for her role as Lucy Brown in “Threepenny Opera” by Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Well, as Ka Universe (Gilda Cordero Fernando) likes to say, the universe has a way of stitching things together. Even Gou, freelance writer-editor by day, occasional jazz singer by night, gave the bright suggestion of singing our friends to health. An art auction with songs to up the bids--brilliant, Gou!

Meanwhile, I couldn’t think in my regular format of 16” x 20” anymore. This tribute to Bruno, his master Gigi, Frances, etc. had to be BIG to be worth anything if it were to be auctioned off to benefit the sick. So I thought big: four feet by four feet canvas on board. My private art teacher Norman Chow had to repeat the request to ensure he was reading his SMS right. Yes, I texted back, four feet by four feet and make it an order for two canvases.

“Stormy Norman,” our private nickname for him, had his carpenter in Baguio execute the specs up to the stretching and priming of canvases. With paint and brushes ready and the managing of minor assorted household crises in Baguio and Pasig not bothering me any longer, I applied myself the way my other teacher, Jerry Araos, told me how at the greenhouse of Oscar and Toottee Pacis in Happy Homes.

Norman guided me all the way, recruiting his son Chino, a computer science major who paints on the side, to help. Chino was a study in coolness while Norman and I mismatched colors, hues and tints, he scratching his bald head, me scratching what was left of my head of hair. On learning that Chino was the third pair of hands in the endeavor, Toottee, who was then in Manila attending a valedictorian grandchild’s graduation, texted: “I hope Chino knows what he’s in for.”

We will see what we’re all in for when “Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady” goes up for auction at an opening bid of P8,000 early this evening, April 9, at Taumbayan, 40 T. Gener and K-1 streets, Kamuning, Quezon City.

Belated happy birthday, baby sis Gi. Sorry the painting of Bruno will find a new owner. Just the same, the real deal will always be with us.

Photo of re-tooled, revised "Oh, My Señorita, Sweet Sweet Lady" by LIWA ARAOS, exhibit curator

For Public Consumption: A Rave for Floy Quintos' "Atang"

What is worth a six-hour trip from Baguio braving fickle weather and the possibility of losing my balance along the way due to an old ear infection? Gilda Cordero Fernando’s workshop on creativity in the classroom is one. But that deserves a story on its own.

Another worth any trouble/hassle is the last run of the musical “Atang” at the Wilfrido Ma. Guerrero Theater at Palma Hall, UP Diliman, held July 18. The theater was filled to capacity with a very responsive audience of young and young-once alike. Even without much publicity in traditional print and broadcast media outlets, word got around fast through Facebook, SMS, email and new, vital media. Reservations were assured as soon as these were placed. As for the queue a few minutes before curtain time, it was orderly.

I brought Jun Calamba, our family’s occasional weekend driver for my escort, and ensured he’d take a front-row seat while I took the seat behind him. “Sige, Jun, dyan ka. Ingat ka lang na hindi ka matalsikan ng laway ng mga aktor,” I told him. Gentle Jun just smiled and sat upright.

With an audience as keyed up as this one, Ayen Munji-Laurel as Gia Almonte had us at hello. Young, tall and on the mestiza side, Gia is immediately cut down to size by an aging, trembling, hunched Atang (magnificently played by Frances Makil-Ignacio). Constantly referred to in the two-act play as unang superstar ng bayan, Atang/Frances is uncannily interchangeable; Jun actually thought Frances and Atang were one and the same person. She gives Gia her first lesson on perfecting one’s art.

On learning that starlet Gia, who is about to embark on the role of her life ( playing Honorata de la Rama in a biopic on her life) knows music by ouido (by ear) and does not take lessons from a voice teacher, Atang gives her this pointer: it is her duty to herself to better her god-given talent.

Second lesson: the entertainment industry has a short memory. In time Gia’s having worked with Bernal or Brocka and her Best Actress statuettes will be forgotten.

Third: Pursue your heart’s desire. Atang’s older sister wanted her to study pharmacy and to open a botica later. These—becoming a pharmacist and running a drugstore—were the approved jobs for women of that period. Music (voice and piano) lessons were allowed in her youth only as hobbies, not as a vocation. Atang would have none of that; pharmacy for her was like mixing poison.

Fourth: Wherever she performed the song “Nabasag ang Banga” (words by Hermogenes Ylagan and music by Leon Ignacio), Aeta, Igorot and Bagobo audiences, not just the Tagalogs, were all delighted and got the double entendre. So, Gia, never underestimate your audience.

I should stop at the fourth lesson. From my brief stint in corporate communications at San Miguel Corp. 20,000 years ago, Winston Marbella and Art Cariaga taught me to stop at three points. Why? They’re easy to communicate and easy to remember if you stop at three.

But I will insist on a fifth point connected to the relationship of Atang and Amado Hernandez: that what is more important is not romance but understanding. Amado insisted on bayan muna (country first) but with Atang, who found it hard to love a hero, by his side at all times.

That said, I shout “Bravo!” again to the wonderful cast who worked with the equally wonderful director Alex Cortez.

Alex crossed the fingers of both hands, wishing that the production of “Atang” would have a move-over engagement at the Cultural Center of the Philippines in November. Hear that, Mr. Nes Jardin?

For cultural workers like Gia who learned from Atang, it is necessary to create one's story, to cultivate one's own mystery.

Photo courtesy of Frances Makil Ignacio, from her Facebook profile