If Maria Von Trapp Sang To Enrile

The Senate's Santa?

(Courtesy of manilatimes.net)

That Senate President Enrile reportedly gave out 30 million pesos, sourced from the maintenance and other operating expenses (MOOE) budget, for his Christmas 'gifts' to senators, is hardly surprising to anyone who is a student of politics.

(See http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/nation/01/09/13/enrile-admits-p30m-xmas-gift-senators for more details.)

From where I stand, it is merely symptomatic of what ails anyone who enters the government to work: we are now ignorant - willfully or because "everyone's doing it as a matter of culture" - of what it means to be in public service.

Enrile has defended his action by saying that his "gift-giving" is provided for in the Constitution. But, given the more-than-usual passing reactions of those who have come across the news item, particularly from netizens, it's apparent that it does not sit well and is not well received by the public, constitutionality notwithstanding.

It may be time to go back to basics - as the Sound of Music tells us, let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.

For example, anyone who identifies her/his occupation as "teacher" would be naturally burdened with a question like "what will I teach today?" You may think it odd, funny, or even silly, that I had to point that out, and you're maybe thinking "hello! Teacher nga eh! Of course it will be a concern for that person as to what will be taught, duh!"

So let me direct this next segment to those who are in government and public service, to ask themselves this question everytime they conduct themselves in an official capacity: how does my action serve the public?

Indeed, a very good place to start.

The reason it's called public service is plain to anyone outside of it, but apparently not too obvious once you are entrenched in the system. Reading the reactions of netizens, there is a theme of "ang kapal! Pera namin yan!" prevailing, and rightfully so: public money is to be used for public purposes.

It should benefit us, the people. Period. After all, we pay the taxes, it's only right to expect it to work for us. Applying that principle, we can then ask Sen. Enrile: "How does giving 30 million pesos of MOOE to your fellow senators serve the public?"

Where is the benefit for everyone?

How does this translate to public goods or services?

And using this question, it becomes easy for anyone who is "untainted" - thinking of going into public service just now - to weigh any potential decision or action.

If I use public funds to put up my family name as the city's official seal, or embose my name over the sidewalk, or put up tarpaulin signs that say this project is because of me, how does it serve the public?

If I use a wang-wang to beat the traffic, or, since that is currently frowned upon, get a bunch of motorcycle-riding police officers in front of my publicly provided luxury sedan, to wave other motorists to get out of the way while I am on the road, how does it serve the public?

If I use the cover and excuse of law (as if laws are dead and written in stone) to propagate and further actions I wouldn't want my own mother and children to know, how does it serve the public?

Once that question can be answered with a straight face, and with no moral compunctions, only then should you proceed. It stems from a simple impetus - why - and if your answer is nowhere near the public's interest, then you should take another course of action or consider (to put it diplomatically) leaving something that requires you to serve the public as a matter of label and course.

In the Sound of Music, Maria won the heart of the Captain because she stood her ground, insisted on what she knew to be right, and made the audience sing along with her in the process.

If only Sen. Enrile could hear the virulent cacophony of violent reactions in cyberspace over what we feel with his gift-giving, he would not have responded the way he did. But then, even in the impeachment trial, he was seen regularly adjusting his hearing aid.

It may be time to sing louder.

You Say Coffee...

My friend Richard is right: I seem to have a knack for getting these "kinds" of coffee shop stories.

Say what?

(Courtesy of nespresso.com)

After doing a bit of moaning about how everyone else has discovered my new cafe-hangout, I decided to make the most out of it and just enjoy my cup of coffee.

My ever-so-shaky silent reverie was shattered just as I was about to finish my drink.

"...Yah, yah, I have this Preyda (Prada) and then I have another Preyda at home!"

I turn to see what is colloquially called a matronix, an older woman of a certain age, talking to another woman who seemed to be of the same mold. As they passed by, I got a whiff of the perfume they were sporting, which reminded me of my grandmother when I would visit her just before she passed, although these women were probably in their 60's.

After settling their things (they seemed to have shopped for a barangay, shopping bags galore), they proceeded to the ordering counter, still engaged in dropping off label names, some of them correctly pronounced, some of them...well, not.

"I told him to get a Zeeg-na (Zegna) suit, to go with his Jor (Dior) ties!"

I decided that I deserved better (eavesdropped) conversations than this if this was the last thing that I would remember should a sudden wave of amnesia hit me that very instant. I managed to haul my butt to the door, and thought that my ears were safe from the verbal assault these two women were giving out, but matronix number one managed to have the last word.

"Miss, miss, I'd like to have the drink I had when I was in Italy, yung ka-pu-see-no."

Ill-Fitted For The MMFF

And I mean that as a compliment of the highest order.

The irony is so palpable, you can smell it.

(Courtesy of cine-vue.com)

I was determined to watch Thy Womb out of one impetus: I could not bear to think that what were tabulated as the 2012 Metro Manila Film Festival top-grossers were the best films that our country had to offer. It certainly provided a snapshot of what the current moviegoer is looking for, but I hold filmmakers, like all artists, to an invariably higher standard, as their craft and medium are capable to affecting minds and hearts.

Imagine my despair when I found out no Makati cinema was showing it. I had to check in with Click The City and I was also disappointed to find that only 9 theaters in the entire capital were showing it as of the first Saturday of the new year - it certainly makes one wonder why it was even included in a festival that had the words "Metro Manila" in them.

Entering at around 11:45 AM for the 12:00 NN showing of the film, we came into an empty theater. It was so bizarre that we started doing the "echoes" to check that there really wasn't any one around. After the flag ceremony video - whose brilliant idea was it to insert almost 2 minutes of "acting" after announcing that people should stand up for the national anthem and before the actual song? - a couple of people entered the theater as well, we were no more than 10 people all in all. On a Saturday.

Thy Womb stars Nora Aunor as Shaleha and Bembol Roco as Bangas-An, a married Badjao couple who seem to have answered the question "who wears the pants in the family?" with the response "no one and everyone". Both of them go fishing, they both work on the mat weaving (one does the actual weaving, the other does the dyeing of the material), and even though Shaleha is the midwife, Bangas-An assists in the process. Which was actually refreshing to see, and in stark contrast to the film's central conflict.

They are a barren couple, and under their laws/religion/customs, a man is allowed to have another wife with the purpose of begetting a child, with the implicit assumption that it is the woman who has difficulty with it. (I do wonder if the roles were reversed, and it is the husband who is incapable of impreganting his wife, would a Badjao woman be allowed to take another man for the same reason?)

The film, for the first half, focuses on the mundane-ness of everyday life: trips to the market, seeing a beautiful shawl and not buying it to save money, and even when very early on, Bangas-An gets shot, they do not bother going to the hospital, but treat his wounds with herbal remedies. The casual appearances of men in fatigue uniforms, or (what I assume to be) pirates are taken matter-of-factly, an inconvenience that, after decades of living with the violence in the area, have become nonchalantly ingrained into their daily schedule. When a scuffle ensues and some men in a chase bump into Shaleha, she proceeds to pick up the dropped root crops she bought and heads back her original way with no comment.

Bang-An's desire for a child must be a horrible ordeal to bear witness to, much less be married to, and in true Nora Aunor fashion, she does not need to engage in any hysterical dialogues, or hair pulling of any kind to make the audience empathize with the turmoil and torment - and the comical irony - that she, a midwife, who cannot bear her own child, has to help in looking for a suitable replacement for herself. Her eyes alone are all she needs to convey this, because the culture in which she lives out her marital duties all accept it as a husband's right.

They find Bangas-An's next wife in Lovi Poe, who plays Mersila. Before they can even see her, they have to raise a dowry well over a hundred thousand pesos, and when the couple sells the boat motor, it underscores what they deem important, that they would think of possibly jeopardizing their source of income. When Mersila  finally appears, the furtive glances that Shaleha makes communicate that while her husband's journey has ended, the unraveling of her life is just beginning. And when, privately, Mersila insists on a single condition when she bears him a child, the scene where Bang-An's tears fall are so gut wrenching that I physically winced because the horror of making this decision was something I would never want to experience.

The final twist of the knife is when Shaleha has to deliver the baby, and all she has to remember her entire marriage by is the umbilical cord of the infant, which also served to sever a marriage that she has been nothing but steadfastly loyal to.

Yes, a film has to make money. But that cannot be the only reason why a film comes into being. Against a backdrop of commercialism, box office receipts and themes of quick quips/fantasy worlds, Thy Womb was no more than a saling-pusa in this festival. (If I remember correctly from reading a news item, that is literally the case, since there was an eighth film that did not make it in time for the festival, and Thy Womb was the 'replacement'.)

Thy Womb wasn't made to fit in. It was meant to stand out. And it does so spectacularly.

How To Make A 5 Star Boo-Boo

I'd settle for any care at this point.

(Courtesy of corporate-eye.com)

1. When you label yourself "5 Star", there are some expectations. Scratch that, you are supposed to deliver the highest expectations. The label implies you are the top of the heap, the standard of excellence, the ones competitors (secretly) envy and look up to.

I mean, if I claimed to be the fastest runner, and 20 other people down the street could easily beat my time, it would be awfully idiotic for me to still claim that title, right?

2. The hospitality industry is all about service. It's in the label as well - no, not hospital, though I might need to have my blood pressure checked if I have to deal with people who do not seem to understand what it means to be in the service profession and what it entails.

If you work in the lobby of a 5 star hotel, would scowling be an appropriate first impression to make? Similarly, does D come after Y?

3. When you say, "we would like to invite you for coffee at your most convenient time" I take the words at face value.

When I say that "I can meet you on Monday at 2PM" and you reply "I'm busy with a meeting, why don't we meet on Wednesday at 3PM", would it be wrong for me to assume that the phrase "we would like to invite you for coffee at your most convenient time" is actually hollow for you?

4. Now that I have acquiesced to your convenient time, couldn't you be bothered to show up, I don't know, on time, at least? See, if I was meeting someone to apologize for something, I would try to be there well ahead of the appointment, seeing as the scales aren't tipped in my favor even before the meeting has started.

When you show up at 3:10 PM, don't make mention of the fact that you were late, and when I point out that you are late, answer as if one shouldn't make a big fuss over being 10 minutes late, can you blame me for thinking that anything coming out of your mouth will be quite meaningless from this point on?

5. Hearing stock responses, canned phrases and oft-quoted platitudes only adds to the feeling of insincerity that pervades a meeting that can best be described as superficial and necessary for show only.

By your own admission, you cannot compete with the other 5 star hotels in terms of infrastructure, modernity and amenities. It becomes lamentable, then, if in the one category where you can compete - service, and truly listening to your customers - you have also failed.

I really should amend that to ex-customer.

What's Your Facebook "Friend" Policy?

Will Facebook approve of this button?

(Courtesy of mamamia.com.au)

Since my plans to watch Thy Womb have been thwarted by the city of Makati (I could not find a theater here that shows the internationally acclaimed film), I posted this particular problem (where to watch it in Metro Manila) on Facebook. 

Along the way, I saw a post from an acquaintance - and I use that term loosely - that was bragging about the number of "Facebook friends" this acquaintance has and wanting to reach a certain target, as a "new year's resolution".

Let me get ahead of those people who will say that I should mind my own beeswax and that people have the freedom to post what they want on their walls: if you post it on Facebook, then you are looking for reactions/comments. There is a reason it's called "social media" and not a secret diary. Even with your privacy settings checked to your specifications, you cannot really "control" how information gets passed on once you post it online.

The simple rule, for me, is: if you want to keep something private, then don't post it online. Period.

You cannot cry foul and say "I just meant it for my close friends to see!" - let me repeat, nothing is totally secure online so that is not a viable "defense" when anyone receives commentaries, especially of the negative variety.

And now that that's out of the way...

I just found that post an odd way of looking for friends - to meet some kind of numeric goal or resolution.

One can easily argue that "people you meet on Facebook are usually fake/passing acquaintances, and what s/he meant was just the number of 'friends' listed in her/his account". That may be true for some people, but the word "friend" is not something I take lightly, and I feel bad for anyone who has to take that same word in so flippant and flimsy a manner.

I guess what bothered me the most is that this person was valuing quantity over quality. From my almost four decades of existence, I can say, with all conviction, that friends that have substance are truly rare and hard to find. To have a real connection with another person is not something you can do in an instant, unless someone has found some kind of foolproof and speedy way of determining this. 

The reason I value my friends is that they have been tested by time and circumstance.

So my personal policy, as far as "friending" over Facebook is concerned, is that we have to have at least some mutual friends. The only time I would consider looking at someone's account without ever having a person connecting us is if (a) that person is new to Facebook (b) is not very active on Facebook but is someone I actually know and like or (c) is someone who is a "compatriot" in the many "issue" pages in Facebook, like the Reproductive Health Bill or those that combat homophobia and bullying.

Facebook (like all other social media) is wonderful in that it allows like-minded individuals to come together, even if we are separated by thousands of miles. And because of our shared interests, there is a general thread of authenticity with those whom I call friends, which is quite important if you consider that some of these friends are people you will never come face to face with in real life.

In this day and age when friendship can be defined by some as the number of clicks you get on social media, it is heartening to know that real connections can be made over a medium that can seem impersonal on the surface, and like all things, need some kind of excavating to reveal the real treasure.

So, what's your "friending" policy over Facebook?

When Showbiz and Sisterhood Collide

Box office success sisters.

(Courtesy of pinoymovie.co)

I promised myself I would not immediately write off the 2012 Metro Manila Film Festival entries, at least not without going through the films myself if I was to comment on them. I am beginning to think that I may be breaking that promise so early in 2013, as I finished my second film of this season, Sisterakas.

Showcasing three performers who have proven their mettle in the most important measure our local cinema has for box office success - receipts - this was, even before the festival arrived, a sure hit, if we follow the now adopted formula in entertainment: your fame plus my fame equals mega fame, to the nth power. In this instance, Vice Ganda, Ai Ai de las Alas and Kris Aquino "volt in" to produce what is sure to be  a runaway comedy hit.

Right?

It may have had that promise, but we all know what happens to promises.

The story follows Bernice (Vice) and Detty (Ai Ai) as siblings who were brought together courtesy of their father's infidelity. A rather formulaic, generic confrontation ensues, at least one severely played out in our film industry: the kabit (mistress) is thrown out, along with her progeny, by the "first wife", cue in the pouring rain for predictable effect, with the illegitimate child swearing that everyone will pay. This may be a wink-wink moment that director Wenn Deramas wants to poke fun at, but the rest of the film makes me consider that there was no irony involved in this scene.

As children, Bernice loved to model clothes while Detty had a talent for designing them, which was what initially drew them together to each other and is the battleground in which their adult "drama" will be played out. Their fates now reversed, Bernice, also called Totoy much to his indignation, is now a smashing success in the fashion world, while Detty is struggling to make ends meet, albeit doing what she loves, designing clothes.

Kris Aquino is introduced as the rival to Bernice's clothing company, and seriously, my mind just blanked trying to remember her character's name, and with good reason: I could not tell whether she was playing a part or just playing herself.

References to her annulled marriage to former husband James Yap were aplenty, that by the nth time that DJ Durano chirps in his "Yup, yup, yup!" you could feel the collective eye rolling of everyone in the theater: ilang beses ba natin gagasgasin ang linyang yan? Her lines are an amalgam of her many, many, many commercials - as if we needed to be reminded of their number since anyone watching local television cannot escape the ubiquitousness of her face - some together with Ai Ai, and even Vice has to make an in-joke that he doesn't have as many commercials. Yet.

Detty has lost her job, and because of a "miracle" (aka a wind blowing a newspaper with a job opening at Bernice's company), she promptly applies for her next job, and her future employer recognizes her as his long lost sister, and maps out his revenge. 

What follows is an ode to The Devil Wears Prada, with Vice assuming the role of Miranda Priestly, asking this version's Andi Sacks to get fresh fish caught by Detty herself, or fruits from a specific region in the Philippines for their male supermodel. (In fact, the opening sequence mirrors the foreign film perfectly, with a Pinoy twist: people falling over to the shallow body of water when Bernice is about to pass by, or a filled elevator that has to be emptied so that Bernice can get on it herself.)

The rest of the film passes by with a haphazard conclusion involving a corporate takeover, a planned murder and a lead character getting wounded to save another lead character's life. I won't even go into the cutesy pairing of Kathryn Bernardo and Daniel Padilla, because the latter's hair reminds me of Justin Bieber, and I can't imagine Bieber getting all thug like, but what do I know, since Daniel is pulling it off, with screaming fans and a recorded album to boot.

Try to squeeze as many laughs as you can from this film, if you can. Consider it your "patriotic duty" to help save local cinema. Believe me, you'll be working it.

Sex With Your Ex, MMFF Style

That is essentially the conflict in the first film I saw from the 2012 Metro Manila Film Festival, One More Try. (Do not go further than this sentence if you don't want spoilers.)

A happy ending?

(Courtesy of showbiznest.com)

Of course, it isn't that simple: Grace (Angel Locsin) was impregnated by Edward (Dingdong Dantes) on a Baguio tryst, even while he was in a relationship with Jacqueline (Angelica Panganiban). Grace, who is now seeing Tristan (Zanjoe Marudo), has to go down to Manila after "5 or 6 years" to seek the bone marrow of the child's father to arrest the disease of her son. Unfortunately, Edward's bone marrow doesn't help.

The obstetrician-gynecologist doctor, played by Carmina Villaroel, gives them two other options, without disguising her preference: they could (1) do in vitro fertilization, with Grace's egg and Edward's sperm or (2) Grace can just have sex with Edward, the end goal being to get the bone marrow of the baby to come.

I can hear Charlotte from Sex And The City going these are the options?!?

Quite an unfair and impossible situation, which demands vast reserves of emotional empathy and acting prowess from the protagonists, so this is where the film is a letdown for me.

Dingdong, particularly, does not display the emotional depth required for this role, so it is with much surprise that I heard that he won as the festival's Best Actor this year. I have seen his brand of acting, which basically consists of him brooding in a singular expression. He carries this same ability in the film, and often in various "comtemplating" poses along the terrace of their house, or a seaside resort.

Angel and Angelica are the ones who portray the film's more "anticipated" scenes. Understandably so, since Grace has to beg for Jacqueline's permission to sleep with her husband, purely for humanitarian reasons, you understand. What I found most unfortunate was the predictable descent into the sabunutan/sampalan (hair pulling/slapping) scene, in a public place, that would lead to an accident with Grace's successful pregnancy, and a bloodied leg that would see everyone's conflicts be neatly resolved in a hospital ward.

Zanjoe is the surprise in this film: as the outsider who has no direct ties to the main conflict - in fact, midway through the film Grace "dispatches" him and thanks him for his time - he portrays quite convincingly the feeling of helplessness one has when being thrown in a situation of not one's choosing but with the capacity to affect you and effect changes in your life. Here he was, happily settled in with Grace in Baguio, even accepting Grace's child openly, when the curveball that hits his relationship will see to its' conclusion. (More spoiler alert: Grace and Tristan have a happy ending, as does everyone in the film.)

The characters of Agot Isidro and Gina Parreno were, quite frankly, unnecessary, as the story would have continued without them in the film, although I had to chuckle when Gina advises her daughter to remember that there should be "No Tresspassing!" when you go to someone else's, er, garden.

The scene that was most memorable to me was when the three protagonists agreed to the "sex with my husband" scheme, and Jacqueline proceeds to butter up Edward and when he gets all fired up, Grace, who has been waiting in the adjacent hotel room (with a common door connecting them), then enters to, uhm, finish the job.

No one seems satisfied, not Edward, not Grace, and most especially not Jacqueline who has to hear the grand finale from the next room.

Which is also the general feeling I got after seeing the film: the dilemma had so much promise for great acting, and the three leads fell short of what could have been a memorable film. It really did leave you feeling one thing:

Bitin.