AUTO-MATON

I am now with a car. Bow.

Yes people, after three and a half years of waiting, my folks finally gave in to my request (more like plead) of having my own car. It is a second hand white 1998 Honda Civic. Nothing special but it means the world to me right now. Actually with the many warnings my dad gave me—if I as much as place a scratch on it—it is now more valuable than even my own life.

For the car geeks out there what it does boast is a spoiler, 15 inch mags, and a 6-track CD changer at the trunk. Pretty nifty for a beat meister wannabe.

In the meantime though I am only restricted to driving it around the village, during driving lessons, and the occasional “try mo i-drive hanggang sa main road, tapos exchange tayo pagkatapos sa malapit na gas station” moments. Parents’ Rule: NO LICENSE, NO TAKING THE CAR OUT ALONE…YET.

So here I am listening to Amber Riley’s “Bust Your Windows” from Glee, finally glad that I have my own windows to bust.

CIRCUIT

LA SUPER LAST SUPPER!

Bureaucrazy.

I won’t be surprised if one of these days a person would run amok because of the craziness of our bureaucratic system. The system is filled with so much red tape, I’m surprised our government buildings are not colored red. The system is so slow, I’m surprised a wormhole in the fabric of time hadn’t opened up and swallowed them yet.

Left: the film's protagonist C: his hunky assistant R: one of the Last Suppers being considered for a corned beef advertisement

Last night I was able to watch the Cinemalaya 5’s Best Picture: the comedic tale of Last Supper No. 3. I would like to place emphasis on how other universities suck, because UP unlike them, has again sponsored the re-showing of these year’s Cinemalaya entries. Hurrah for liberal education! Hurrah for freedom of the UP Film Institute! Hurrah for me being a UP student! Sucks to be you other university students!

Anyway.

Last Supper No. 3 is about the riveting tale of a gay production assistant who loses a measly Last Supper tapestry and the series of unfortunate bureaucratic events which escalated after that. The comic attack of the film on one of the biggest problems of our country is effective and will indeed send you in a laughing fit. But after laughing so hard from all the Murphy’s Law (everything that can go wrong, WILL go wrong) action that is happening in the screen, the movie will make you think: why do we even have this sort of problem?

The bone of contention: Last Supper No.3

The bureaucracy is supposed to bring order by presenting a system which works and functions for the convenience of the people. But oftentimes this is not the case. Long lines, frustrating employees, dilapidated structures, fucked-up justice system, no wonder people are not fans of the prospect of entering a government building.

For what it is worth, the film deserves to win for one important aspect: it provides a refreshing take on an important but already mundanely-perceived subject. Plus Maricel Soriano and Ricky Davao made cameos. Plus it is far better than the dizzying darkness of Engkwentro.

By the way it is based on a true story.

Literally.

BOOZE BONANZA (OR HOW MY LAST SEM HAD ME STONED)

My semester is finally over. Five months of hellish academic work, nagging professors, and backbreaking requirements are now gone (at least for now). Not to mention five months worth of heartaches and crushed crushes. Everything from those five months is now moot and academic. But before we usher in the new semester, let’s look back at how I fared in my 21 units worth of subjects last sem.

But before we get too excited, let me first announce the theme for this sem’s semender review (last sem I did a review with a sexual theme). It’s no secret that I am an alcoholic (Hi, I’m Jean, and I am an alcoholic…AA meeting over), and so this sem’s theme would be entitled: JEAN’S BAR LIST OF BOOZY SUBJECTS, where we group last sem’s hellish courses according to their academic toxicity, alcoholic proof, and booziness (or just plain boo!).

 

Journalism 122 (Publication Design and Layout) – the last major subject in the journalism majors series, the vodka of the bunch. Vodka has got to be my favorite liquor. It can be mixed with almost anything citrusy or be taken on the rock. It has the punch you need without the ugly after taste. J 122 is just like that. I love it. It is my favorite subject this sem. With this subject I was able to do what I love doing best: designing and print layout. From calling cards, to brochures, to newspaper frontpages, and magazine spreads, I have enjoyed each and every shot of this vodka bliss with different mixes. Of course doing your very own website using only HTML handcoding is an experience I will never forget. That experience was like vodka on the rocks, you regret not mixing it with anything because it’s too bitter, but then you realize mixing is not always an option, and all you really need is ice (in this case it was Notepad). I loved the subject, and I would gladly take it again if I would have the chance. Just like vodka, it will never go out of style.

 

Journalism 152 (Public Relations) – I have always been a fan of advertising and not PR, but after taking this course, I think I will also like PR as much as I like advertising. It is like red wine. When you first taste wine, you don’t drink it at once, you smell it first, appreciate its color, then you sip it, then you ask for more. That is exactly how PR went for me. I dabbled in a bit of it, tried to appreciate its intricate paperwork and research, then tried to apply it (“tried” is the operative word, because we didn’t have the time to actually do our own PR events, reporting to a make-believe clientele and doing a PR proposal were all we were able to do). But good wine takes time to mature, and just like my appreciation for PR, I think I would have to wait a little longer or experience a bit more, to truly love it.

 

Journalism 123 (Photojournalism) – my lightest subject this sem. No worries, no hard labor, but when you DO have to do labor…it really IS hard labor. It is like good old beer. When you like to have it, you can easily buy it. You can drink it on the go, and have as many as you want. But there is always the fear of having too many, and growing a beer belly. Photojournalism was just like that, easy, fast, and on the go. But creating a midterm plate and doing a media presentation for your final plate are just two beer bellies hard to ignore. Mind you, those were the only requirements for the course, so I shouldn’t be really complaining…but still. But just like a cheap bucket of six, J123 provided two cheap thrills for me: a DSLR, and being classmates with 2. Oh yeah!

 

Communication Research 101 (Intro to Comm Res) – this is definitely my brandy. It is bitter, it is boring, it is old (and it’s not just the professor either)! I absolutely hate CommRes! It is the cause of my sleepless nights, the root of my aching fingers and blurry vision, and excessive coke intake in the morning. CommRes is supposed to help us out in our thesis writing next year, just like brandy, it is supposed to serve a greater good (in brandy’s case, better blood circulation). But brandy can’t be mixed with anything, it is not a party drink, and I really don’t like the searing aftertaste. I don’t care if a shot of brandy a day is good for your circulation…whatever man! Having to do a thesis proposal is already hard work, but having to do two in a sem for one measly subject, is just insane! Comm Res professors, please hear my call, ComRes is not the only subject we CMC students have to deal with! Bear with us! Argh!

 

Communication 120 (Mass Media Law) – the prof is bitchy, the subject is an ass, but the experience was hellavafun! Though this was one of the subjects which gave me the semblance of being an actual student, because I had to read and really prepare for every meeting lest I suffer the bitchy wrath of the professor, it is fun to watch classmates being bullied and bitched at by the prof. It is just like tequila. Tequila is a great base for mixing cocktails, it is sweet and tender, but just like a true bitch, it can punch you and knock you out if you pour one too many shot glasses. Finishing the exams for this subject was like waiting for the sunrise, tequila sunrise that is. Though you have to pore over dozens of court cases to review, the actual exams are not that hard. Just like true tequila goodness, even if you get bitched at the class (or hangover) is well worth it because you know—deep inside—you are the bigger bitch.

 

Speech 111 (Voice and Diction) – pretending to be a call center agent was never this fun. Learning the correct IPA symbols for transcribing words was confusing at times, but the sessions of speaking in funny English accents are more than enough to cover for the bad times. It is just like lambanog. At first you wouldn’t consider the lowly drink from the coconut because it’s too provincial or cheap, or for the farmers, or whatever association you have with it. But once you realize that there are such things as flavored lambanog (comes in bubblegum, apple, grape, and four seasons), you begin to change your stereotypical views. Speech 111 is not just for Speech majors, it is actually very helpful in speaking internationally (pronounced as innernationally) accepted standard of English. Which means I can now apply for a call center (cenner), and have a higher chance of getting accepted (agzepted). Hahaha!

 

Communication 140 (Mass Media and Society) – the prof is the best (Sir Roland…need I say more?), and so is the rest. I love my classmates (except for two irritating know-it-alls), and I love the reports!! This is the only subject where I was able to connect blood circulation and conglomerates, Christmas and plastics, jologs and ilusyonadang frogs, and desaperacidos and burning ants with a magnifying glass!! I had a super great time reporting with you groupmates! But the final exam for this subject, which accounts for 60% of the final grade, is just plain hell. The subject is like absinthe: illegal in some countries, beloved by all. You want it, you enjoy it, but you’ll hate the hangover the next day. But still, the experience was well worth it.

 

So that was how my last semester went. A little woozy, but not really. A little crazy, but not enough. Sadly I can’t say that I’ll be sober this summer…internship…effing internship. *hic

 

 

WATCH OUT FOR THE WATCHMEN

“I’m not locked in here with you. You’re locked in here with me.” – Rorschach

Watchmen has got to be my most awaited movie of all time. Ever since I read the graphic novel last December (Ana Tan you have my utmost gratitude for introducing me to this wonderful piece of graphic literature…hayup! Tigas mo ‘tol!) and found out that the movie will be coming out soon, the vision of finally seeing the members of the defunct crime-busting group in live action—living and breathing—never left my mind.

The Watchmen are not your average superheroes. Spiderman, Batman, the Fantastic Four and all the X-men mutants would pale in comparison compared to these guys. They may not have superhuman powers brought about by a radioactive spider, genes, or vat of nuclear waste, but they have the most kick-ass moves and the most awe-inspiring twisted-ness only Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons can provide.

Unlike many print-to-film adaptations, the movie stayed true to the graphic novel for the most part…that is until the end. The alien monster made by the kidnapped artisans was an important element excluded from the ending part. The film made it look like Dr. Manhattan was framed by Ozymandias for the New York catastrophe. Perhaps that creative decision was made to prevent those who haven’t read the novel from being lost in translation. The whole back story of the kidnapped artists was omitted, so it would only make sense that the monster octopus thingy would also be omitted. Besides, the film was already three hours long, no one needs another LOTR wannabe.

For what it is worth, the movie was beautifully made. The opening montage showing juxtaposed scenes of the Minutemen’s demise and the birth of the Watchmen was so beautiful yet still comprehensive. The more controversial issues of gender preference were made more graphic than the novel’s presentation like Ozymandias’ gayness or the Baroness’ lesbianism.

Speaking of graphic, the film was filled to the brim with blatant sexual assertions. Dangling, glowing blue dick anyone? How about a nipple exposure? How about two scenes with nipple exposures (make that three if we will include the nipples in Ozymandias’ costume…disturbingly similar to that Batman and Robin costume…*shivers)? Oh, and was it just me or was that a wooden phallus displayed beside the Comedian’s TV? Even the nose of Richard Nixon looked phallic after seeing all that dangling blue dicks. Then of course there is Silk Spectre and Nite Owl making love like they have never made love inside a floating airship before. Nite Owl’s butt exposure is a scene best shown in ink and paper.

“You continuously refuse to see things from my perspective” – Dr. Manhattan

Some things kind of disappointed me though. The portrayal of Dr. Manhattan lacked power. He was like an atomic bomb missing a few atoms. I mean, what’s up with the high pitched voice man?! Don’t get me started on that Mars scene too. Then there is Ozymandias. Fake German accent, fake nipples, fake hairstyle, need I say more? Thank god Bubastis was fierce. I am happy though that they did Rorschach justice. The swinging CR door was a nice touch to the Big Figure’s excruciating death scene. They even made his face more bearable compared to the novel. His death scene was also magnifique! The bloody snow angel was so iconic.

So that was how Watchmen fared in the silver screen. It was great but not that magnificent. It was cool. Some parts were creepy, but that only adds to the allure Watchmen brings.

CALCULATING KIRI

“You indecent bitch!” – Sesang

The last night of the UP Sarswela Festival 2009 was the only performance I was able to watch among the lineup of various “modernized” sarswelas. The sarswela or zarzuela originated from Spain. It is a satire of sorts which involves dialogue, music, and dance often with comic relief. The sarswelas presented in the festival were tweaked a little to represent the changing paradigm of modern times.

 

            “Ang Kiri” (I am not sure with the translation, but from what I understood from the play it can be translated to a scarlet woman or a ‘malandi’ in the Filipino language…please correct me if I’m wrong) is a story of finding love only to lose it forever. It is about our never ending search for the right person who will complete us…only to lose that person to another.

 

            Sesang is a beautiful and charming woman admired by many and gossiped about by all. Amidst her opulent lifestyle and many suitors who shower her with gifts and admiration, she remains “loyal” only to Don Ramon for one reason—financial security.

 

            That is until she met the provincial boy Jacinto. His innocence and pure intentions to love someone as “impure” as Sesang, caused the scarlet woman to fall for him despite all odds. Unfortunately for Sesang, Jacinto is also in love with Pilar, his first love from the province and her seamstress.

 

            And so the vicious cycle of torn love, misery and loneliness begins.

 

            But there is of course comic relief in the persona of Sesang’s fat, obnoxious, gay butler Amboy. He who extorts money from her many suitors to get both master and servant the comfortable life they want. He who is supposedly the only other person who is able to enter her room. He who is her most trusted keeper of her secrets. He who left her once her money is all gone.

 

            Then there is Pepe. Her poet friend. Her friend who loves her more than a friend. Her friend who is willing to love her despite her fixation with Jacinto. Her friend whom she would rather not have than become a lover.

 

            Last of course is Jacinto. The puritan lover. He who does not seek riches but is given many by Sesang. He who cannot fight for Sesang because his mother disapproves of her. He who leaves her when she needed him most. He who easily forgot her when part of her died when she lost him.

 

            I pity Sesang. All she wanted was to be loved. While it might be true that she also wanted the richness the world has to offer, she was only seeking compensation for the “love” she has given to the many men who rumpled her sheets. The men who wanted her but not needed her.

 

            There is a Sesang in all of us. We give. They take. We need. They take it away. Then we are left alone again. There will always be an Amboy, a Pepe, or a Jacinto in our lives. It is up to us who we want to stay.

 

But sooner or later they will still leave us.

SLUM DAWG

Are Bollywood dance numbers groovier than our local movie dance numbers?

            A. Bollywood numbers are Austin Power groovy

            B. Pinoy dance numbers are Vilma Santos groovy

            C. Only Jean Agor dance moves are groovy

            D. It is written…in this blog

 

Watching the 81st Academy Awards or Oscars is not a priority for me. Despite the event being televised all over the different TV stations, the red carpet fashion being prophesized, and the after-Oscar parties being planned, I had no desire to watch it whatsoever.

But the desire to see the organ-less male figure holding a sword overwhelmed me. Am I glad I did.

 

Hugh Jackman’s one-man opening number was just hilarious in an Australian-playing-an-Australian-in-a-movie-called-Australia kind of way. His song number about the big films nominated for best picture was just crazy, and the ending “Wolverine” stretch was just hilarious.

 

But I’m not about to rave about the rest of what transpired in the Oscars (which was uneventful after the opening number save for the time the audience gasped when the camera panned to Angelina Jolie while Jennifer Aniston was presenting), I am here to rave about the best picture for the 81st Oscars: Slumdog Millionaire.

 

Danny Boyle’s masterpiece about an Indian “slumdog” who tried his luck in the Indian version of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” to find fortune, love, and ultimately his destiny, is a compelling and inspiring feel-good movie. Despite the film being produced by the Brits (insert funny British accent), one cannot deny the fact that SM is a Bollywood-inspired film, and as such, MUST include a dance number.

 

The dance number at the end was so groovy I just had to download the song used for it. Every time I play it, I cannot help but imagine Dev Patel and Freida Pinto shaking what their mommas gave them. Just when I thought it can’t get any better…it did. While searching for that dance song, I stumbled upon the Pussycat Dolls version of the song which is as danceable as the original but sexier and spicier (remember that Indian movie, Queen of Spices?), and because I am a good person who loves to share good music, I am uploading the PCD version of the song Jai Ho! Hohohoho!

 

Anyway, back to the movie.

 

The social commentaries on poverty, superficial “economic development” and the brutal nature of the underworld are in front and center in this film. It is funny how the state of poverty-stricken Mumbai is very much the same with that of Manila. The slums, the religious tension, the rising call centers, the orphaned beggars, the singing blind beggars, the various syndicates, prostitution, we have all those in Manila…and even more. If that film was filmed in Manila and not in Mumbai, it would have been more colorful! Heck, even our local films have dance numbers in them! Instead of doing it in a train station, they can do it at the MRT or LRT.

 

The portrayal of India as a Third World underclass nation was of course met with negative reactions from many patriotic Indians as well as “India’s biggest superstar” Amitabh Bachchan himself, who was also portrayed in the film.

 

Well whatever you may think about the film, I believe it’s a good film which portrays realities which may be too harsh to handle, but are very much true. These realities however are not limited to just developing countries like India or the Philippines. Even the best nations of the Western World have thriving underworlds, which are—more often than not—even more dangerous than the underworlds of developing nations.

 

At least developing nations have an excuse for a thriving underworld industry: they are poor and in need of money to survive.

 

The underworld industry of more developed countries are just plain greedy.

 

CAMMING YOUR WAY

Yes, it is official. Christmas came early for me this year…it came last Thursday actually.

After weeks and weeks of endless persuasion, fits of tantrums, and never ending justifications, I have received my early Christmas gift: my very own (drumroll please…) DSLR!!! (applause applause!)

I now have my very own Nikon D40 DSLR. It’s a very good camera especially for an amateur like me. Despite its small size and light weight, it is packed with great features and is easy enough to be handled by a newbie.

My interest in photography started just last semester. Though I am a self-confessed cam-puta (camwhore), I haven’t really given much thought about photography as a hobby or as an art form, that is until I met and interviewed Niccolo Cosme (who incidentally just launched his latest Project Headshot Clinic about AIDS).

As a journalist I also want to explore the field of photojournalism. The burning curiosity and desire to learn within me compelled me to enroll in J123–photojournalism. Enrolling in the class is actually one of the biggest factors why my folks were coerced to buy me a camera. The power of persuasion!

Now that I have my very own DSLR to tinker with, expect better pictures in this blog. The power to capture and create is now in my hands, and that power is not afforded to everyone. So, with great power…comes more camwhoring!

Perhaps I’ll even start a new page in this blog dedicated to the photos I will take…not a bad idea right? It’s a way to practice my camera skills as well as my photojournalistic prowess…

Strike a pose!