My Ten Most Liked Animated Films

Here I am again, doing another top-ten list for no special reason. I may be in my thirties, but I have yet to outgrow my liking for animated films (or at least adult-friendly ones). And I’d like to believe I’m not the only one. Below are the ones I like the most; what are yours?

Antz (1997). Hey, any film that can make Woody Allen’s trademark neurosis funnier than any of his post-Hannah and Her Sisters movies deserves to be in this list.

Beauty and the Beast (1991). Among Disney’s adaptations of fairy tales, this is my favorite. The reworked plot, the interesting characters, the memorable music—all these add up to an instant classic. Is it any wonder why it’s the only animated film nominated for a Best Picture Oscar?

Chicken Run (2000). Much as I like Tim Burton’s The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993), I personally didn’t find it as entertaining as this stop-motion movie, the first full-length release from Britain’s Aadvard Studios, best known for its Wallace & Gromit shorts. Mel Gibson may be a hoot as the voice of Rocky, but it’s the plucky Ginger—and the plot—that shines the brightest here.

The Incredibles (2004). Brad Bird (who made 1999’s The Iron Giant) and Pixar Studios scored another blockbuster with this Oscar-winning feature, which also happens to be Pixar’s last film with Disney. Filled with hilarious lines (the repartée between Frozone and his wife is a classic), it also features, in my opinion, the most memorable cartoon character in recent years in the form of Edna Mode.

The Last Unicorn (1983). If I’m not mistaken, Rankin & Bass produced this cartoon, which used to be shown frequently over at the now-defunct UHF Channel 31. One of Joel’s poems in his winning collection this year mentions the film, and after reading that poem last summer it reminded me how effective the film was to me, even if it’s not as great as most of the movies in this list.

Princess Mononoke (1999). I became an instant Hayao Miyazaki admirer after watching this breathtaking film. So sophisticated, so remarkable, so refreshing, so Japanese.

South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut (1999). Who would’ve thought a couple of colorful and crude cut-out characters could be so funny? Trey Parker and Matt Stone poked nasty fun at everything, from America’s penchant for violence and the censoring V-chip to Saddam Hussein and Winona Ryder, in this politically incorrect, even gleefully subversive cartoon, with very good songs like “Blame Canada” and “Kyle’s Mom's a Bitch.” Definitely not for the kiddies.

Spirited Away (2002). Miyazaki topped himself—again—with this superb feature. It won, among other prizes, the Oscar for Best Animated Film over Ice Age and Lilo and Stitch. He’s truly one of the last living genuises of animation as an art form.

Toy Story 2 (1999). This film is one of those rare examples where a sequel is much better than the original. One unforgettable sequence, as Sarah McLachlan sings “When She Loved Me,” shows Jessie the Cowgirl (perfectly voiced by Joan Cusack) being gradually forgotten—and later donated to a charity organization—by Emily, her former owner as the latter becomes a teenager. So poignant.

The Triplets of Belleville (2003). This French-Canadian cartoon is an absolute charmer. Its refreshing plot focuses on a devoted mother on a quest to find and rescue her cyclist-son from his kidnappers, and along the way meets the elderly, impoverished title characters. You wouldn’t believe where the triplets get their food, as well as the reason the cyclist was kidnapped in the first place.

Lucky J.D. Fortune is the new INXS frontman

The New INXS: (clockwise) Jon Farriss, Tim Farriss, J.D. Fortune, Kirk Pengilly, Garry Beers, and Andrew Farriss. (Copyright © by Danny Moloshok, Blue Pixel/MBP 2005)

Wow. What a surprise. I honestly didn’t think INXS would choose J.D. Fortune to be their new lead singer. But they did, despite his cocky attitude and his complete lack of discipline. Plus, his overly constant habit of giving the group credit for influencing him as a musician is exasperating. Christ, once is enough. Still, I’m sure that must’ve made INXS feel real good.

Don’t get me wrong: J.D. is a phenomenal rocker. Anyone who has watched Rock Star: INXS for the last two months or so could see that. His charisma and talent is undeniable, and he’s probably the edgiest of all the rockers. But his rebellious nature convinced me, then and now, that he would shine best as a solo performer, not as a frontman. Apparently, INXS disagreed.

I suspect INXS chose J.D. because he’s way edgier than (my personal choice) MiG Ayesa—by the way, it’s sweet of him to mention the Philippines—and reasonably more open-minded than Marty Casey (my second personal choice) when it comes to collaborating. Clearly, the group wanted a darker, edgier sound for their next album. Well, there’s no one else who's darker and edgier than J.D.

As a show, Rock Star: INXS definitely kicked ass, much more than American Idol (which I still love). Bo Bice and especially Constatine Maroulis wouldn’t have a prayer there. I mean, how can they compete with Deanna Johnston’s husky sensuality, or my favorite Rock Star rocker Ty Taylor’s soulful energy, or Jordis Unga’s startlingly mature vocals, or Suzie McNeil’s amazing range?

The show featured a lot of astounding performances, but here are my favorites: Suzie’s “Bohemian Rhapsody;” Jordis’ “Imagine” and “The Man Who Sold the World;” Ty’s “Woman Don’t Cry” and “Proud Mary;” MiG’s “Live and Let Die;” Marty’s “Mr. Brightside,” “Wish You Were Here,” and “Trees;” and (surprise, surprise) J.D.’s “Pretty Vegas.” And my favorite episode? The seventh (a.k.a. All-Acoustic) episode, hands down.

Now, Mark Burnett is looking for more talented rockers to audition for the next edition of Rock Star. I wonder which frontman-less band is up next. Queen? Grateful Dead? Nirvana?

Fortune really smiled on J.D. today. Well, the best of luck to him and INXS. They’ll need it.

Feeling Famous for a Day

For some people, September 11 is not a good day. Today marks Marcos’s birthday. Today also marks the 4th anniversary of the Twin Towers tragedy. But this year is a little different.

The Sunday Inquirer Magazine finally released its annual Palanca Awards issue today. Nine first-prize winners were featured on the cover, including Dean, Joel and myself. I found the headline amusing: RP Literature’s Main Attractions. It made us sound like we’re circus stars or something. But hey, no complaints here. All in all, it was good. No, very good.

As a result, a lot of people texted and congratulated me. And I mean a lot of people. Former Palanca winners Migs Villanueva and Niel de Mesa even called me up. Just goes to show how powerful and wide-reaching PDI is. Many of them complimented on my appearance. This is all I would say about it: Don’t be fooled, people! It’s all in the camera angle and lighting!

Honestly, I’m not too crazy about my cover pic. But I really like my photo inside, more so Alya’s writeup on me. I liked it so much, I texted both Alya and Raffy Lerma, the photographer and thanked them. Not only that, I clipped the whole article and kept it in a safe, secure place.

Yup, today is definitely a good day.

"10 X 10 X 10" now officially launched!

10 X 10 X 10: Sampung Tigsasampung Minutong Dula ng Sampung Mandudula (UST Publishing House), the first collection of plays from The Writers Bloc, has been formally and officially launched, together with twenty-six other titles in a 2 ½-hour ceremony this morning at the UST’s Thomas Aquinas Research Center (TARC) Auditorium.

The book, edited by award-winning playwright Rody Vera, consists of ten 10-minute plays that had been staged by the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA) in 2000 and 2001. Besides Vera (Nang Dahil Lang sa Init), the other prize-winning writers featured in the anthology are: Layeta P. Bucoy (Isang Libong Tula Para sa Dibdib ni Dulce), Alfonso I. Dacanay (Eyeball), Vincent A. de Jesus (Over a Cup of Coffee), Liza C. Magtoto (Saint Anthony, Pray for Us), Chris Martinez (Balang-araw), Nicolas Pichay (Tingnan Natin ang Mukha Niya), Jose Victor Z. Torres (Single Brown Female), Ned Trespeces (Trabaho Soliloquies) and Rene O. Villanueva (Walang Iwanan).

The featured plays range in technique and tone: from conventional realism to disturbing surrealism; from serious drama to black comedy. Some of them have not only been staged here, but also in Japan and Thailand. 10 X 10 X 10 is perfect for classroom study and scene analyses, as well as for staging by amateur and professional theater groups.

The collection, which costs only P210.00, is available at the UST Publishing House bookstore and at leading National Bookstore outlets.

The 2005 Palanca Awards: An Overdue Report

Proud Playwright at the Palancas: Here I am with Full-Length Play judge Dr. Arthur Casanova and Palanca Foundation's Nemie Bermejo. (Muchas gracias, Señora BB para la foto!)

Upon accepting her Best Actress Oscar for Terms of Endearment back in 1984, Shirley MacLaine admitted, at one point in her speech, that for years, she had “wondered what this (winning an Oscar) would feel like,” then promptly thanked the Academy for “terminating the suspense.”

Her admission struck a chord in me as a brand-new Palanca prizewinner. Like her, I’ve often wondered for years what winning a Palanca would feel like. How would I react to the news? Would I jump with joy? Would I go: woohoo! I couldn’t help it; I have friends who had won before. Some of them won more than once. But all that wondering ended when last August 8, I received an LBC package from the Palanca Foundation. Then and there I knew I won; I had no reason to believe otherwise. The Foundation finally terminated the suspense.

What did I feel at that moment? I felt really lucky. Very grateful. So relieved. And FUCKING THRILLED, MAN! But the full impact of the news only hit me when I opened the package, took out the white envelope, opened it, and unfurled the letter inside. Then these words stood out right away: Congratulations!… First Snow of November… First prize. My very first win. My reaction? Would you believe, just a wide, stupid grin pasted on my face, lasting for much of the day. No jumping around. No delighted scream. I think now: am I that reserved?

My Dad was the first to know: I showed him the letter. Then I called up two very good friends of mine: fictionist Janet Villa, a co-fellow from the Dumaguete and UP workshops; and Mon Sarmiento, one of my former professors and a two-time Palanca winner. I could tell from the heightened pitch in their voices that they were just as elated as I was about the news. Then my Mom, who was visiting her elder brother at Medical City at the time, called me up on my cellphone; my Dad apparently phoned her the news. That night, I called up two of my friends from The Writers Bloc: Vic Torres, who I probably feel the closest to in the group; and Rody Vera, who heads the Bloc and who also won this year. They were were so happy for me.

Even now, I’ll still surprised how fast the news of my win spread. Sure, I know that once the winners have finally been chosen one can virtually count on a news leak (often provided by a judge or the winner him/herself). But in my case, it’s almost mind-boggling, considering that I personally informed only four people outside my immediate family. And it’s not my nature to just blurt it out to just anybody, or announce it in a public forum, virtual or otherwise. For the next few days, I received a steady stream of congratulatory e-mails and text messages. And it continued until the Awards Night last Thursday. Ah, the wonders of technology.

As a first-time first-prize Palanca winner, I arrived early at the Manila Peninsula with my proud parents last Thursday for my interview with the Sunday Inquirer Magazine. The affable Ruey de Vera spotted me almost at once at the Rigodon Ballroom entrance, and promptly whisked me to Alya Honasan, my assigned interviewer. She recognized me almost immediately, for I once contributed an article on The Writers Bloc to the SIM four years ago. Normally I’m a very serious guy, but somehow I became quite animated during the interview, grinning, laughing as I answered her questions. Maybe our theater links (she’s an occasional stage actress) had a hand in it, I don’t know. I hope her writeup on me comes out well.

After the interview, Alya passed me on to Raffy, the SIM photographer. Our photoshoot was, well, interesting. I don’t know exactly what he had in mind when he took my pictures, but he had me pose—rather uncomfortably, I must add—under a lighted table lamp as he shot me from a low angle, which he maintained for the rest of the shoot. Why? I don’t know. I really hope the shots turn out fine; I’m not what you call a photogenic guy.

Much as I was very happy to come to the Awards Night as a winner (I had attended the event as a journalist for the last two years), I was even more so when a good number of my friends came as winners, too. Old and not-so-old friends, like Rody (3rd Prize, Dulang Ganap ang Haba), Chris Martinez (3rd Prize, One-Act Play), Allan Lopez (3rd Prize, Full-Length Play), Elmer Gatchalian (2nd Prize, Dulang Pantelebisyon), Joel Toledo (1st Prize, Poetry; I feel honored to have been one of the first to read his winning collection last May), Naya Valdellon (2nd Prize, Poetry), and Doc Luis Gatmaitan (Palanca Hall of Fame; I just can’t say enough about this man’s kindness). And new ones as well, like Dean (see picture; he's on the left) and Nikki Alfar (Grand Prize, Novel and 3rd Prize, Short Story for Children, respectively; such a warm, funny couple; my Dad was amused at the amount of food they had piled on their plates, LOL!), Joseph Arevalo (2nd Prize, Dulang May Isang Yugto), Ferdie Jarin (2nd Prize, Sanaysay) and Grace Dacanay-Chong (1st Prize, Short Story for Children; as I had guessed, she turned out to be a not-so-distant relative). Their company made my win sweeter.

I’m sure everyone who attended the ceremony would agree with me that the staging of Chris’s Welcome to Intelstar was the highlight of the night. A hilarious virtual monologue on the call-center phenomenon in the country, it featured the brilliant Michael V. as a call-center trainor named Chelsea who conducts an orientation seminar for successful applicants, complete with Powerpoint presentation. Chris’s main strength as a playwright has always been his ability to craft hilarious dialogue, and that strength was at full power in the play. Everyone was laughing so hard and so fast. Even now, I sometimes wonder how my play managed to beat it.

Since my category, the One-Act Play, was second to the last in the lineup, I had to wait quite a while for my turn to climb the stage and claim my prize. It dismayed me a little that not one of the judges in my category was present onstage. Not Tony Perez, who chaired the board of judges. Neither maverick stage director José Estrella, whose productions I greatly admire, nor Ramona Monette S. Flores. I was like: oh-kaaaay. It’s a shame, though: I really wanted to thank them for recognizing my play’s worth, for deeming it worthy enough for the top prize. But anyhow, once I stepped down from the stage and joined the other winners and judges, a number of them greeted and congratulated me. There’s Doc Luis (see picture; on the right) and Vim Nadera (who, at times, still sees me as that earnest totoy he first met years ago when he was still brave enough to attend Bloc meetings), as well as Edward Perez (2nd Prize, Dulang Ganap ang Haba) and Carla Pacis. How nice of them.

Then, after a while, it was all over. Just like that.

As I write this, I’ve already started to feel the Palanca high gradually wearing off. And I’m okay with it. Don’t misunderstand: I relished the thrill of my win, but after a month—from the day I received that LBC package to the Awards Night—I felt it wore me out a little. Still, I feel very fortunate and thankful for it. For me, earning a Palanca is a matter of luck: you submit the right entry to the right mix of judges at the right time. And the value of the Palanca Awards lies in its being a barometer on the condition of (high) literature in the country today, in its being a venue for young and emerging and regional creative writers to prove their talent, to strut their stuff. And I’m so glad I managed to do that this year.

On the 53rd Palanca Awards

To mark tonight's awarding ceremonies, below is a feature article that I wrote on the 53rd Palanca Awards, which was published in The Philippine Graphic in September 2003. To my friends and Blogger buddies who won this year, see you all later tonight!

FRESH AND FAMILIAR NAMES FIND FORTUNE AT THE 2003 PALANCA AWARDS

IT'S QUITE INCREDIBLE, if you think about it: a simple and unassuming literary contest, established fifty-three years ago by an alcohol-brewing family in honor of their late patriarch’s memory, has evolved into Philippine literature’s most prestigious event. Who would have thought its prizes would be highly cherished, its awarding rites eagerly anticipated? Ask any serious writer around. Chances are, they’ll tell you they want to win a Palanca one day.

That day came—last September 1, to be exact—when fifty of them proudly claimed their checks and certificates at the Manila Peninsula’s Rigodon Ballroom. But that’s not the night’s only highlight. Iluko writer and Liwayway editor-in-chief Reynaldo A. Duque finally made it to the Palanca Hall of Fame with his fifth first-place win. Newly minted National Artist for Literature and guest speaker Virgilio S. Almario so riveted the audience with his speech that they remained glued to their seats. Poets Michael M. Coroza and Josephine Barrios interpreted a number of this year’s winning poetry in Filipino. And Alex C. Cortez’s direction somewhat undermined his staging of Floy Quintos’ prize-winning full-length play, the witty “Fluid.”

Among this year’s winners, Ma. Kristine Chynna B. Roxas attracted the loudest cheers and claps as she went onstage to receive her award for “Traje de Boda,” her first-placing one-act play. She also attracted attention with her moussed-up hair and funky jacket-and-pantsuit getup. In contrast, fictionist Yvette U. Tan and poet Jing Castro Panganiban looked elegant in their feminine, formal finery. As for the men, there’s playwright Niel de Mesa on one hand, with his hip brown suit and thin-rimmed glasses; and poet Raymund Magno Garlitos on the other, who seemed to have India for inspiration with his permed hair, off-white suit and off-gold vest.

But beyond the ceremony, beyond the clothes, what’s clear from this year’s array of awardees is the fact that there are more fresh names than familiar ones. Young-bloods mixed with the high-bloods. Truth to tell, at least three of them are still in college, in their late teens. There’s Ricardo P. Fernando III of UP Diliman, whose “Bagong Developments sa Pagbuo ng Mito ng Lungsod” placed first in the Futuristic Fiction in Filipino category. And two of this year’s hotly contested categories—Poetry and Short Story in English—counted a pair of UST students in its winning ranks: poet Angelo V. Suárez and his second-placing collection “Exploratoria” and fictionist Ma. Francezca Theresa C. Kwe for her third-placing “Closed Doors.”

What’s also clear is how quite a number of them are twice blessed: either they claimed prizes in two different categories this year; or they have won for the second year in a row. Like Reynaldo A. Duque, arguably the night’s big winner. He admits that, as far as he’s concerned, he felt confident that he would win this year: “If you join, you should believe that you’ll win,” he says in Filipino. “If you don’t believe that you won’t win, then don’t join at all.”

Like F. Sionil Jose and Carlos O. Aureus, Duque used his hometown—Candon, Ilocos Sur, to be exact—as material for his fiction, and his winning entries this year are no exception. “Leon, 15,” his first-placing entry in the Short Story in Iluko category, focuses on a teenage rebel during the Cry of Candon in March 1898 and his brave refusal to accept amnesty in the face of defeat, capture, torture and death by musketry. Similarly, his “Apong Simon,” which won first prize in the Short Story in Filipino category, features another, older rebel—a Katipunero, in fact—who also refused to surrender, who also continued in the struggle. At the same time, he reminds us to be mindful of our history, to re-examine how it is interpreted, how it is written.

For Duque, he considers writing about his hometown to be his responsibility, considers it as his way to immortalize it. “It’s the duty of the writer to write about his hometown so that it will not be forgotten in the literary history of our nation,” he asserts. “That is my belief.”

Like Duque, Rosario Cruz Lucero also won two first-prizes this year, in the highly competitive Essay and Short Story in English categories. Unlike Duque, though, she wasn’t confident about her chances. “The two first-prizes were a complete surprise; (but) the Essay prize really flabbergasted me,” she admits. “In the first place, I wasn’t sure that it conformed to the description of a personal essay.” Describing it as scholarly and theoretical in form, with a smattering of personal statements, she confesses: “I just submitted it just for the heck of it, actually.”

That essay, titled “The Music of Pestle-on-Mortar,” turned out to be a slightly revised version of a keynote speech that she delivered at the Iligan National Writers Workshop. In that speech she discussed an indigenous Philippine poetics, as well as Mindanao as a site of ethnic wars and as a wellspring of mythological and folk-literature sources. As for “Doreen’s Story,” she wrote it as a metafictive account of a story that a fellow Negrense, the late food critic Doreen G. Fernandez, had told her, about a house in her hometown that had its second storey torn down.

“That is like asking which (one) is your favorite child,” Lucero replies when asked which of her winning entries means more to her. “I can only… talk about the difference in the way I relate to either one. But as to which meant more to me… I couldn’t tell.”

Similarly, Yvette U. Tan, also a double-winner, likewise found that question difficult to answer. “That’s really hard to answer,” Tan admits, adding that all of one’s works are like babies, so one can’t really choose which one is more meaningful that the other. “Although I’ll say that 'Sidhi,' my entry for Futuristic Fiction… I put a lot more thought into that, a lot more… soul.”

“Sidhi,” her third-placing entry in the English divison of that category, centers around a festival in Quiapo that becomes a one-night Mardi Gras that the country becomes known for, and how it starts out as something Christian-like, but ending up like a drug scene. On the other hand, her third-placing, English-language short story for children, “Kulog” tackles child abuse, and it offers a different take on the kapre, who actually tries to help the child in the story.

As one might expect, Tan feels elated and humbled by her double wins. “I feel very grateful and very honored that I won not one, but two Palancas,” she says, and adds that “I’m really, really happy that the judges for both categories thought that mine was exceptional.”

Dumaguete-based Ian Rosales Casocot, whose “Old Movies” clinched second prize in the Short Story in English last year, certainly knows how she feels. “I think the first one is always the best one,” he replies when questioned how he would compare last year’s win from his latest. “I was jumping up and down when I heard that I won,” he relates how he reacted last year. “This time, it was actually nice to win again, but I always loved winning the first time.”

It turned out that his winning entry, “The Hero of the Snore Tango,” which won in the same category and position as “Old Movies,” started out as an essay. “I write a column for a local newspaper, and my editor told me if I could write an essay about All Souls Day. So I wrote about my father, who died a few years ago,” he narrates. “I looked at the essay. I liked it very much I decided to turn it into a short story. I expanded it and I sent it out to some of my friends for comments. And they said that it was powerful enough for a Palanca entry.”

“I felt less pressure, actually,” Casocot admits when asked if he felt any pressure brought about by his consecutive wins. “But the thing is, if you’ve won one, you want to win again and again. So I don’t know if you would call it pressure… but I think you can call it addiction…”

In contrast, Niel de Mesa, who won first prize last year in the One-Act Play in Filipino category for “Subtext” and third prize this year in the same category for “I Laugh You,” admits that there is pressure at times. “But of course I try to fight that,” he quickly adds in Filipino. He also adds that he’s in fact happy that his play placed third. “It countered my expectations. It forced me to humble myself.” More importantly, as far as he’s concerned, his play had won over Debbie.

Debbie is what de Mesa lovingly calls his “spiritual partner,” and is clearly his muse behind his winning works. But between the two, he regards “I Laugh You” to be more creatively ambitious and challenging. “It aspires to be (like) Moliére, Shakespeare,” he explains in Filipino, “na slapstick… (and) the things they talk about are obscene, but the use of the language is beautiful. So I wanted to use Tagalog in that beautiful way, too; but what they talk about is the opposite.”

“I Laugh You” may be more technically challenging, but de Mesa views his win for “Subtext” to be more meaningful, more personal for him. “It was a sign from God,” he says in a sincere and reflective tone, adding that he thought “Subtext” was an incentive to go through all the challenges that he and Debbie would come across. But if nothing else, it amuses him that their memories, as embedded in his plays, would be part of “the literature of the Philippines.”

Indeed, they have. It’s quite incredible, if you think about it: how a simple and unassuming literary contest, established fifty-three years ago by an alcohol-brewing clan, has not only honored their late patriarch’s memory. It also honored our personal and national memory, as interpreted by the writers and their winning works. Not just Casocot, De Mesa, Duque, Lucero and Tan, but also the rest of the winners. Not just the past, but the future is very much present in their works. And if the fresh and familiar names who found fortune this year are any indication, the Palanca Awards can look forward for yet another fruitful literary harvest next year. (Copyright © 2003 by A.I.D.)