My Ten Favorite Things in 2005

2005 ends tonight, and for many people they welcome it with considerable relief. True, it has been a remarkable year, but what made it so owes a lot to the many scandals and tragedies that occurred in the last twelve months. Inevitably, 2005 is not a year people will look back on fondly. But I won’t go there. Not here. Besides, to review the year on a macrolevel is the media’s job.

Instead, below are my ten favorite things that I would always associate with the outgoing year:

Favorite Book: 10 X 10 X 10. Enough said. Ü

Favorite Comedy Film: It may not be as uproariously lowbrow as There’s Something About Mary, but The 40-Year-Old Virgin is just as funny and as sweet. In a movie full of several highlights, the body-waxing scene is my hands-down favorite. So painful and yet so hilarious to watch.

Favorite Day of the Year: It's a toss-up between August 8--the day I received a letter from the Palanca Foundation that I won--and September 1, the Palanca Awards Night. Enough said.

Favorite Filipino Commercial: Sure, the concept is cheesy, but the gorgeous photography, a memorable jingle, and retro vibe makes Sunsilk’s “Abot Kamay ang Langit” TV ad stand out.

Favorite Filipino Film: Independent digital films made their mark this year, and a refreshing plot and fine performances made Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros one of the year’s best Filipino films.

Favorite Gadget: The Canon IXUS 430 digital camera. My dad technically owns it, but I use it so often that I’m the one keeping it. My interest in photography deepened as a result.

Favorite One-Line Film Review: A friend of mine, Nick Pichay, is known for his hilariously bitchy one-line reviews. He said this of Ray: “Para siyang isang episode ng Maalaala Mo Kaya.”

Favorite OPM Band: Los Chupacabras, formerly known as The Forces of Evil. Ü

Favorite Oscar-winning Movie: Forget the criminally overrated Million Dollar Baby. Forget the flawed The Aviator. As far as I’m concerned, the wine-tasting comedy Sideways, which was released in the country this year, is the best American film of 2004.

Favorite Play: The Virgin Labfest allowed several unproduced plays to be staged by a major theater company last June, and the audience response to one of them, Dennis Teodosio’s Geegee at Waterina, was so positive that Tanghalang Pilipino is going to stage it again next month.

Here’s hoping for a better and brighter 2006. HAPPY NEW YEAR, everyone!

What Christmas Tree Are You?

Why am I not that surprised that I got this? In any case, MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!

You Are a Minimal Christmas Tree

You're not a total Scrooge, but you feel no need to go overboard at Christmas. Less is more, and your Christmas reflects refined quality.

What Christmas Tree Are You?

The Writers Bloc in 2005: A Review

NOTE: People who know me well—or who regularly visit this blog—know how devoted I am to The Writers Bloc, the subject of this post. You have the option to skip this should you feel like it. Ü


2005 has been a good year for The Writers Bloc.

We kicked off the year with the soft launching of our first book, 10 X 10 X 10: Sampung Tigsasampung Minutong Dula ng Sampung Mandudula (published by the UST Publishing House, priced at P210.00—buy now!) at the Conspiracy Café last January. To say it was successful is an understatement: the attendees had a blast as some of the country’s finest theater actors stage-read selected plays from the book. The result? All the books I brought were sold out.

Then there was The Virgin Labfest last June. Eight unproduced plays, most of them penned by Bloc members, finally saw the (stage)light of day at the CCP, thanks to Herbie Go and Tanghalang Pilipino. That, too, was successful, thanks in great part to the strength of each of the featured plays—and lowered ticket prices. It was so successful that Dennis Teodosio’s Geegee at Waterina, arguably the festival’s best play, will be staged again, together with Chris Martinez’s Palanca-winning Welcome to Intelstar, by Tanghalang Pilipino next month as part of its regular season.

The second half of the year turned out to be even better. We had the Bloc formalized by registering at the SEC last August. Then in September, a record-setting six Bloc members—Rody Vera, Elmer Gatchalian, Chris Martinez, Vincent de Jesus, Allan Lopez and myself—won at this year’s Palancas. 10 X 10 X 10’s formal launch at the UST was also a highlight, but that took so looong to finish, with the mostly indulgent and interminable speeches of the 40-plus authors and all.

Also: some school-based theater groups started performing a number of the 10 X 10 X 10 plays around this time—and paying royalties for using them. The fact they used them attest to how fresh and student-friendly the book is. UP Los Baños first staged them last September, followed by the College of St. Benilde in October and St. Paul University-Quezon City (with the help of three other schools) in November. Of course there are those other schools that also used the plays, but I won’t go there. On another matter, also around this time, our BIR papers have finally been processed.



We celebrated all these, and more, when we had our Christmas party last Sunday (see the picture above). All of us agreed that we had so much to be grateful for and to look forward to. Among them: another Virgin Labfest come July, and hopefully more Bloc publications.

Now if 2005 wasn’t a good year for us, then I don’t know what is. Ü

A Decade After His Death

Ten years ago today, my friend and fellow playwright Carlos "Charley" dela Paz Jr. died.

I first met him at the PETA Summer Workshop in 1990. He co-facilitated the Teen Theater program; I was one of the participants. He first struck me as someone like a Buddhist monk: calm and composed, humble and patient, so approachable, so unassuming. That summer was particularly memorable, for a maternal cousin and uncle had died within a month of each other. Their deaths affected me in a way, to the point I had foolishly considered dropping out of the program. But my facilitators, particularly Charley, advised me against it. I eventually reconsidered. Thank God I did. To this day I really can’t imagine what would happen to me as a creative writer had I pushed through with my original plan.

I had already started writing short stories by that time. Really short, really badly written ones. I remember bringing some of them to the workshop one day, not to show off but to share. As a result, when the time came to plan our culminating activity—a theatrical showcase, naturally—Charley appointed me as one of its co-scriptwriters. That was my very first playwriting experience. And what did we present? From what I can recall, it’s a musical drama focusing on a poor young man who loses consciousness during a slum demolition (social relevance is a must in a PETA workshop showcase). While unconscious, he realizes he's in the future, meeting up with, among others, his girlfriend (who became a prostitute) and his future son (who turns out to be a rebel leader in a repressive regime). When he regains consciousness at the end, he decides to become an activist amid the ruins of the demolition. True, the material is trite, but I fondly remember the songs Vince de Jesus, who later became a friend, composed for us. Most importantly, I had fun co-writing and performing in it. The entire experience permanently sealed my interest in theater.

I never saw Charley again after the workshop until 1994, when I started attending Writers Bloc sessions, which he headed at the time as PETA’s Playwrights Development Program coordinator. In these meetings, he had maintained that cool-and-collected aura. He never bitched, even if some of the attendees did, albeit entertainingly. His dedication impressed me: he would call or mail letters bi-monthly, reminding me about the next Bloc session or the next Bloc activity. His tact also impressed me: when I had him read one of my earliest plays, a Batch ’81 rip-off, he told me, very gently and without any condescension, that only the first scene is all right.

Charley’s death stunned everybody in the Bloc. The September of that year, he earned 2nd prize in the Full-Length Play in Filipino category for his musical 1896. Two months later, 1896 premiered to (mostly) positive reviews at the UP Theater. To digress, 1896 is essentially about the Philippine Revolution: how it was formed, how it began to unravel. His decision to make the young Emilio Jacinto, the brains of the Katipunan, to be the protagonist proved to be a flaw: he’s such a passive, reactionary character compared to Bonifacio and Aguinaldo. Why mention this? Charley died on Jacinto’s birthday. He died from a bangunot. He was only 30.

I only learned of his death the next day. That night, I went to his wake at St. Peter’s Funeral Home along Quezon Avenue. Inside the rented viewing room, PETA artists outnumbered Charley’s bereaved relatives. He was not wearing a barong when I peered into his coffin. Instead, he had on some kind of uniform, something that a Philippine Revolutionary soldier would wear. Weird. He looked quite peaceful, which didn’t surprise me at all.

A Mass was celebrated that night. I remember that very well for two things. First, Rene Villanueva, Charley’s mentor, gave a mood-breaking but welcome eulogy. With his trademark sardonic wit, he recommended the playwrights present to leave drafts of their plays with Charley. If he didn’t like them, they will remain buried with him. Everyone laughed. Second, the PETA members present sang two special songs. One was the company song; the other, from one of the songs in 1896, titled “Ang Kapatiran.” Below is the chorus:

At tayo’y lilikha
Ng isang bayang dakila
May pag-ibig sa kapwa
At paggalang sa dukha
May tahanang puspos
Ng tunay na kalinga
At sa bawat mukha
Ay may sinag ng tuwa

Ang sulo ng kapatiran
Ang tanglaw ng bayan.

Heartrending, just heartrending.

After Charley died, the Writers Bloc regulars, myself included, decided to continue the sessions, to continue what he had started. We felt we owe it to him. And we never regretted it. Even now, we continue to reap the fruits of that decision. We have evolved into better playwrights, into better people. I’m sure Charley never expected the Bloc to become totally independent from PETA. But I won’t be surprised if he approves. After all, it’s for the group’s benefit.

I will always credit Charley for introducing me to playwriting: its pains and its pleasures, as well as the magic it holds. Now, I can’t imagine myself not being a playwright.

Maraming salamat, Charley.

Freddie's Final Funeral

I stumbled upon the PDI report above earlier this evening. It’s too noteworthy not to post it. Among his plays, I’ve only read Condemned, which struck me as, well, purely a product of its time. Dated, in other words. But his legacy really cannot be denied. I’m glad his remains are now resting in a place befitting a National Artist. Too bad I didn’t get the chance to know him.

Literary Events as Bloggers EBs

Normally, literary events, like those that happened this week--the NCCA UBOD New Authors Series chapbook launching, the 11th UP Writers Night, and the Siglo: Passion-Project: Hero-Philippine Speculative Fiction, Vol. 1 launching--would spur me to write something about them here. But I only managed to do that with the first one; laziness and a drained brain ultimately got the better of me. So I decided to post the pictures below instead. The events were like EBs for Bloggers in a way.


Wordsmith, Sun Eater and Rambling Soul at the UP Writers Night at the Hardin ng mga Diwata. Eclipsed Ellipse and Sundial Girl, among others, were also at the event.


Contradictory Term, Peanut Gallery Owner and Wordsmith at the triple-publication launching at Fully Booked-Greenhills. Banzai Cat and Sundial Girl were also there.

Better Late Than Never

After much delay—and with very subdued fanfare—the NCCA finally and formally launched chapbooks of its UBOD New Authors series at the CCP Main Lobby last Tuesday night. Though I’m not part of the roster of newly published authors, I’m nonetheless happy for those who are: playwright-friends Bay-Viz Caleon, Liza Magtoto and Debbie Tan, as well as Blogger buddies Ian Casocot, Naya Valdellon and Sonny Villafania. I already have copies of their signed books, of course. Ü

The ceremony, hosted by UBOD project coordinator Glenn Maboloc, was surprisingly and thankfully short. A quick overview here, straight-to-the-point commentaries there. The presentation of the chapbooks to the writers was quite swift, and so’s Cecille Guidote Alvarez’s familiar yada-yada-yada closing remarks. A lot of book-signing and picture-taking (not to mention bitching) followed.

One PCLA (Philippine Commission on Literary Arts, the NCCA arm in charge of the UBOD series) member, the poet Butch Macansantos, approached me after the launch and belatedly congratulated me on my Palanca win last September. At one point in our discussion I suggested to him that the NCCA should initiate another UBOD series. After all, emerging writers, especially those writing in the regional languages, would benefit from it. But then again, would it have enough funds for it?

In any case, I’m glad the initial series pushed through, despite the delays. If nothing else, it should encourage the lucky authors more to keep the faith, to keep on writing. I have no doubt they will.

To my friends and the rest of the UBOD authors, CONGRATULATIONS!

A Poignant Pichay Poem

Below is a poem a friend of mine, Nicolas Pichay, wrote (and subsequently published) several years ago. I thought it’s an appropriate poem to mark World AIDS day today.

NAALALA KO ANG ISANG KUWENTO NI FRANZ

ni Nicolas B. Pichay

Pagkatapos manood ng The Quilt Project, dokumentaryo tungkol sa paglaganap ng AIDS sa Amerika.

[Para kay Franz Arcellana]

Nakita ko ang pagbuklat nila
Sa natuping tela,
Pinagdugtung-dugtong na panyo
Na sumasapo ng panangis.
Binubukadkad ng mga anak,
Kaibigan, magulang, asawa,
Kapatid, mangingibig
Ang mga bandila ng mga tinigpas
Sa rurok.
Isinasabay nila
Sa pagsikat ng araw
Ang paglalatag ng lumalawak na kumot.
Sa tahimik ng umaga,
Paulit-ulit na tinatawag
Ng mga naiwanan
Ang higit sa daang libong pangalan.
Mas mahaba na ngayon
Ang listahan
Kaysa sa mga namatay
Sa dalawang digmaang pandaigdig.
Hindi nalalayo ang mga alaala nila
Sa laman ng pasiking ng ating karanasan.
Bulalakaw, dilim, tumbang preso,
Manyika, pagpapanggap, kasoy sa Antipolo
Pagtatagpo, sikretong halik, hiwaga sa Agoo.
Narito ang mga puntod
Ng kapwa manluluwas, hinabi
Ng mga babaeng nagsilang ng mundo
Katulad ng gawain ng mga paruparo
Kung gusto nilang magpalit ng pakpak.
Nangusap sa akin ang mga kuwentong
Nakaretablo sa kumot
Nagmantsa ang mga ngiti
Ng mga larawan na nakadikit doon.
Tulad ng imahen sa
Tela ng Turin,
Pinagdududahan pa rin
Ng mga pangulo, pari, at sundalo
Na libo-libong buhay
Ang nakabakat doon.
Sa pag-akyat ng araw,
Nailatag na ng mga nagluluksa
Ang dagat
Ng bahaghari.
Umaalon-alon na belo,
Naghihintay ng anghel na sasalubong
At magbababa ng luksa.
Sa malayo, pinatutugtog
Ang mahinang taghoy ng trumpeta.
Nagagalit ang isang ama
Sa ganda ng unang bugso
Ng ulan ng Mayo.
Doon ko naalala ang mga banig
Sa kuwento ni Franz—
Nagsilang ng mga sigaw
Ang isang pangalang
Masinop na inihabi
At ang mga bulaklak,
Ang kay dami-daming uri ng bulaklak
Na umusbong at nakapalibot doon.