Vaya con Dios, Cardinal Sin

31 August 1928-21 June 2005
(Copyright © by the AFP and L’Osservatore Romano)

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord
And let perpetual light shine upon him
May he rest in peace. Amen.

I know this is quite belated but, like what I did on the occasion of Pope John Paul II’s death last April, I purposely held off saying something about the late Jaime Cardinal Sin until after his funeral today.

Like many Filipinos, I only knew him by name, through his important role in both EDSA I and II. I met him in person only once, during my confirmation rites at the EDSA Shrine over a decade ago. And way before that, at the home of my maternal uncle, I saw a picture of him with my maternal grandfather, taken at the latter’s summer house in Antipolo during the mid-1970s. How the Archbishop looked vibrant and young then.

No question about it, history will be kind to the cardinal. No one can ever accuse him of not looking after his flock. He was a true pastor, a genuine shepherd of souls. He may have his critics and have rubbed some people the wrong way at times, but they have to admire him for sticking to his principles, for speaking out when the need for it arose. I know I do. And he always came across somehow as someone approachable and personable, in spite of his exalted position. I guess that partly explains his charisma.

Today’s funeral was dignified, peaceful and somber. Bishop Soc Villegas provided the funeral’s most poignant moment when, at one particular point during his eulogy, he took a sudden, meaningful pause and just when it seemed he was about to break down, he managed to control himself. Many people know how close the bishop was to the late cardinal, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were touched by that. I was.

Many things have been said about Cardinal Sin since his death. Here’s mine: Maraming, maraming salamat. Magpahinga ka na sa piling Niya.

Mga punyetang pop-ups!

Ibang klase ang mga pop-ups ngayon. Halos lahat ng mga websites na madalas kong binibista ay may biglang lalabas na ad window sa monitor ko. Pakshet. Noong huling linggo, habang may hinahanap ako sa Google, may lumabas na window na akala ko galing sa Microsoft. Eto, sa katangahan ko kinagat ko ang mensahe. At ano’ng nangyari? Ayun, walang katapusang pagsulputan ng sankaterbang mga pop-up ads. Napilitan tuloy akong i-reformat ang laptop ng erpats ko. Tangina talaga.

Lintek, sobrang agresibo ang mga pop-ups ngayon. Sa cyberspace, kahit saan ka pa lumiko, may makakasalubong ka. Walang iwasan. Isang maling pindot, at ayun, mai-infect ang computer mo; nakakadismaya na marami sa kanila, mga Trojan horses na nagdadala ng mga punyetang viruses. Akala mo mahahadlang ito ng mga pop-up blockers? Ha!

At least, mukhang ligtas sa ngayon ang desktop computer ko, salamat sa Panda Antivirus. Sinipa niya ang mga spyware at adware na nakabaon sa hard drive ko na hindi nagawang tanggalin ng Norton at McAfee. Hanep. Kahit medyo bumagal nang kaunti ang desktop, OK lang, basta ‘di ako iistorbohin ng mga bwisit na pop-ups na iyan.

Wala lang. Trip ko lang patalasin ang dila ko, ika nga.

Five favorite Philippine short stories in English

As a Filipino fictionist in English, I have read many local short stories. Much as I would like to add more to complete a top-ten list, I could only name five at the moment. I have read each story below (accompanied by a selected passage) at least thrice; that’s how much I like them. I’m a little surprised that all of them are written by women.

Doreen’s Story (2003) by Rosario Cruz Lucero:

“Every town needs its legends. Doreen was of that town and of a generation that created the poignant story of Anabella and Francisco and their forbidden love. When Anabella dies, she will live on as the ghost who haunts the balcony of a phantom second storey, gazing longingly at her lover’s children who could have been hers.”

The Flight (1994) by Katrina Tuvera:

“… It was then that I asked Uncle if he was frightened by ghosts, but for once, Uncle Tony did not laugh. ‘No Luisa, not ghosts,’ he said, ‘because ghosts are everywhere and you can’t hide from them all your life; they take all forms, some live in houses like that one, but others live in your soul, and running from one end of the world to another won’t rid you of them.’”

Welostit (1997) by Maria Romina M. Gonzalez:

“Mother Earth wasn’t the only one keeping me close to the wet, grimy floor that time. Funny how we never complained about the bits of street dirt that clung to our hair, faces, and limbs. We weren’t even talking. I tried to keep my eyes closed, only half opening them from time to time, looking at you in parts—your shoulders, your arms, your chest, your throat, perhaps your chin—but never your face. When we were over, you were out of breath and dazed, a bit like me. I looked down and felt my heart springing a leak when I thought of the bigger mess we had made.”

We Won’t Cry About This (2002) by Socorro A. Villanueva:

“You never know what Ma thinks. She has headaches and pains bigger than the house, Squeak says, though I don’t know how she knows. Ma never speaks of pain. “We won’t cry about this,” she’s been saying for as long as I can remember. The times we fell from our bikes, when we cancelled a beach trip because Squeak got the pox, when our dog Bruno died; and that’s what she said when she announced she had cancer. We won’t cry about this. Like when Pa left. There was no pain to talk about, and I wonder where the pain goes when you just keep it in. Maybe they become cancer cells that eat you alive. Metastatic whatever. Who knows?”

A Wilderness of Sweets (1963) by Gilda Cordero Fernando:

“People were dancing in the streets, hugging one another with tears in their eyes and whenever they yelled “Victory Joe,” the GI’s threw showers of candy and gum. One of the chewing gums in a red-white-and-blue wrapper landed on the crossbar of our gate. I picked it up and kept it in my pocket because my brother was dead, my brother was dead and I couldn’t find a flower, but I could save him a piece of gum.”

What are your favorite Philippine short stories in English? Ü

The Virgin Labfest

Kudos to actor Jojit Lorenzo for designing this great poster!

I have to admit, this is turning out to be a great year for the Writers Bloc. First, 10 X 10 X 10 had a successful, albeit unofficial launch at the Conspiracy Café last January. Now, the Bloc and Tanghalang Pilipino are relishing the astonishing success of The Virgin Labfest at the CCP this past weekend. I’m happy that the festival was a hit. Sure, there were a number of factors that made the whole endeavor a success: interpersonal networking, online and print promotion, and word-of-mouth, not to mention the P100 ticket price. Its success proved once again that the Bloc can really stand on its own, though still a little unsteady at times.

Most of the participating plays worked. As text, I’m not too crazy about Elmar’s Serbis, but I have to give credit to Tuxqs Rutaquio for making it effective onstage. As for Ars Poetica, it’s definitely more of Eugene Evasco’s play than Chris’s; its Diliman sensibility is so strong, it’s overwhelming. The premise may be interesting, but I personally, instinctively found it too serious and too talky for its own good. Good thing Allan's Anatomiya ng Pag-ibig doesn’t have that problem. It’s also a good thing that Victor Villareal successfully translated the play’s episodic structure and surreal nature onstage. Even better, Mailes is in it and she’s terrific as always.

I’m satisfied with Ana Valdes-Lim’s staging of Debbie’s Fate’s Line, but there’s no doubt Marj stole the show; she’s so funny as Heidi. Glenn Mas’s soap opera-ish Rite of Passage benefitted a lot from Herbie’s fantastic direction and young Sheenly Gener’s very convincing performance as Isoy’s spinster aunt. But I have to agree with Nick’s observation about the inconsistent focus: at first it seems to be about Isoy, but towards the end it shifts to his aunt.

Vince’s Ateng and Dennis’s Si Geegee at Si Waterina were definitely the two best plays in the festival. Both have wonderful actors who gave terrific performances, both have directors—Phil Noble for Ateng; Roobak Valle for Si Geegee at Si Waterina—who really brought the plays to full, colorful life, and both have hilarious punchlines, especially the second one. Of all the plays presented in the festival, these two were the ones the audience most responded to. Too bad I can’t say the same for Lani Montreal’s Sister-Out-Law, and what I didn’t like about it is how the director, Sigrid Bernardo needlessly embellished a simple lesbian coming-out/Fil-Am story. I may tolerate the male actors—most of them, anyway—performing like screaming fairies, but I really don’t see the point of two pairs of ballet dancers barging in on stage and performing a routine in the middle of the play.

If The Virgin Labfest was like a film festival, I’ll give the following awards to:

· Paolo Cabañero and Lou Veloso of Si Geegee at Si Waterina for Best Actors
· Sheenly Gener of Rite of Passage for Best Actress
· Dudz Teraña of Ateng for Best Supporting Actor
· Marjorie Lorico of Fate’s Line for Best Supporting Actress
· The cast of Anatomiya ng Pag-ibig for Best Ensemble
· Herbie Go of Rite of Passage for Best Director
· Si Geegee at Si Waterina for Best Play

Much as I’m happy that the festival was a success, I’m even more so for Allan, Debbie and Dennis. They now know what it’s like to see their plays being brought to life by a major theater company before their very eyes for the first time. To see the characters they created move and speak, to actually hear the lines they’ve written for them—it’s like magic, and they got to experience that first-hand. I hope the festival encouraged them—and the rest of the Bloc—to keep on writing plays. Who knows, there might be another Virgin Labfest next year. And when that happens, I hope to be a part of it. I would really like to have that magical experience again.

Ten most-liked English-language, live-action films of the 1990s

I used to do top-ten lists on a whim when I was a teenager, and I thought it would be a good idea to revive it here. Who knows, I might come up with more like it soon.

Being John Malkovich (1999). I became an instant fan of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman after watching this brilliant, out-of-this-world film, which also marked the feature-film directorial debut of longtime music-video director (and Sofia Coppola’s ex-husband) Spike Jonze and the first time the normally luminous Cameron Diaz looked unattractive onscreen.

Breaking the Waves (1996). Lars von Trier directed this film, introducing me—and the world—to Dogma 95 and its principles. It also set a trend in von Trier’s movies, wherein his selfless heroines undergo increasingly degrading hardships and, in most cases, eventual martyrdom. No wonder Emily Watson, Björk and Nicole Kidman never worked with him again.

The Crying Game (1992). This British film, helmed by Neil Jordan, caused a sensation when it first came out, mainly because its distributor, Miramax Films, made a big deal about its “secret.” But as far as I’m concerned, this “romantic thriller,” as one critic had described it, is an insightful, tender and—yes, unconventional—study of human nature.

Dead Man Walking (1995). Many movies have been made about capital punishment, but I think this film stands out as one of the best. Tim Robbins expertly balanced both sides of this complicated issue, handling them sensibly and sensitively. And Susan Sarandon’s Oscar-winning portrayal of Sister Helen Prejean remains to be the most credible portrait of a nun ever presented on film.

Heavenly Creatures (1994). The Lord of the Rings director Peter Jackson first made his mark with this film, which also marked the film debut of Kate Winslet. Dazzling and disturbing in equal doses, I was surprised to learn then that it was actually based on a real-life matricide case in 1950s New Zealand, and even more so when Winslet’s character later turned out to be novelist Anne Perry. Truth can indeed be stranger than fiction.

The Piano (1993). I love everything about this film—the performances, the direction, the script, the cinematography, the music. And so many layers of meaning, from the figurative value of the title musical instrument to the unusual sexual bargaining between Holly Hunter’s Ada and Harvey Keitel’s George. This film remains to be Jane Campion’s finest.

Pulp Fiction (1994). If Baz Lurhmann’s Moulin Rouge is a postmodern musical, then Quentin Tarantino’s sophomore opus is probably the closest thing Hollywood has to a postmodern crime caper. A lot of pop-culture and Tinseltown references abound, especially in the first episode, with several horribly hysterical scenes—Mia’s resuscitation, a police officer butt-fucking Marcellus, Vincent accidentally blowing up a fellow passenger's brains—thrown in for good measure. The result? A memorable mix.

Schindler’s List (1993). Objectively speaking, the best picture of 1993. Enough said.

The Sweet Hereafter (1997). If Titanic is the most overrated movie of 1997, this one, I think, is the most underrated. This Canadian film, based on Russell Banks’s novel, deals with the greatest tragedy a parent can face, and what makes it even more tragic is that the secrets the affected parents stubbornly keep prevent them from giving their dead children the justice they deserve. The allusions to the story of the Pied Piper resonated subtly and superbly. The film is still Atom Egoyan’s best-known work to date.

The Truman Show (1998). Peter Weir helmed this movie, which confirmed Andrew Niccol’s reputation as one of Hollywood’s most intelligent and inventive screenwriters today. His fantastic premise of an Everyman who unknowingly stars in his very own show turned out to prefigure the onslaught of reality shows, featuring media-conscious—and media-savvy—common folk, that invaded American TV a few years later.

A popcorn novel in the best sense

The Da Vinci Code may have been around for two years now, but it was only last weekend that I got around to read the book, which I borrowed from my sister-in-law. I thought it was very entertaining: remarkably well-researched, solidly plotted, competently written, very smart. There’s no denying that the premise, which challenges the Catholic Church’s view of Mary Magdalene’s status in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, is so powerful that one couldn’t help but reflect on, even reconsider that view. No wonder it became a phenomenal bestseller.

No mistake about it, The Da Vinci Code is not high literature and doesn’t pretend to be at all. Between Robert Langdon and Sophie Neveu, I like her a lot better: she’s the most fascinating, most well-developed character in it. Initial quibbles? Much as the book moves at an even and fast pace, I feel a little uncomfortable about the fact that, save for the epilogue, everything happened in a single day; what’s the harm in adding another day or two? And the budding romance between Robert and Sophie, despite some buildup, seemed forced, out of place. Still, these things don’t make the book any less riveting.

Just my two cents, albeit belated, in the piggy bank of opinions about The Da Vinci Code, a popcorn novel in the best sense.