It seems some comic book creators have finally grown consciences.
Marvel Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada, whose "Daredevil: Father" miniseries is officially running a year and several months behind, has finally lined up the final four issues for release this August.
And Kevin Smith, whose "Spider-Man/Black Cat" miniseries is running about three years behind by now, has finally turned in the final script.
I'd like to think we fans had something to do with this, but rather than harbor delusions I think I'll just be happy to finally buy the finished product. I do know that fan outrage has caused Marvel to slash prices on the Daredevil miniseries. Maybe they'll be similarly generous with the Spider-Man/Black Cat series too.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Eddie the Snake Charmer
The efforts to unseat President GMA have taken a turn for the absurd: in what looks suspiciously like yet another attempt to stir up public outrage, a report has surfaced that she had, allegedly purusant to her grand vision of "reconciliation" struck up some kind of deal with the Marcoses which would involve her burying FM in the Libingan ng mga Bayani. Anyone feeling a little deja vu? In my humble opinion, I think that's entirely the point.
I'm not a fan of GMA's, and in fact I'm all for her impeachment, whether or not its success is a realistic prospect. But assuming that this Marcos burial thing is yet another gambit by members of the opposition to get the public to force her out of office, this is just sad. They've run out of shit to sling at her, so basically they've resorted to recycling the shit that brought about Erap's ouster in hopes that it will stick. Isn't this just depraved?
Frankly, I miss the days of Ramos. I'm not saying that I would vote for him again if there was an election tomorrow; I mean I just miss having a President for a full six-year term. For all his faults, Ramos had something that neither Erap had nor GMA has: the ability to get people--opposition members, civil society groups, and so on--to forget whatever's wrong with him and just let him serve his term. The funny thing is, to this day a lot of people firmly believe that he stole his election from Miriam Santiago. And yet...you don't hear people proclaiming that he was a phony President, the way they talk about GMA. Granted, Ramos didn't have a "Hello Garci" recording nailed to his ass, but the fact that the efforts to get him on tape weren't as assiduous as they were with GMA really says something about the man, the force of his character...I don't know.
Conrado de Quiros, a columnist for the Philippine Daily Inquirer, seems to be of the opinion that once GMA is gone (and I use his words) the country will cease to be divided. Now, I understand and utterly sympathize with his rage against the woman, whom he regularly compares to Marcos in terms of lust for power (a comparison which is not entirely unjustified) but I think it's kind of addled his brain. He doesn't seem to realize, in his righteous indignation, the wide disparity of interests currently comprising the so-called "united opposition." Create the power vacuum by forcing her out of office extra-legally, and even though there's already a constitutional successor waiting in the wings, the power struggle among the throng of pretenders will tear this country limb from emaciated limb.
I wish we had a Ramos (though not the Ramos, who can take his visions of a parliamentary government and just shove them). We need a statesman (or woman) who can rise above the muck of Philippine politics and just...govern. I don't really see how or when that can happen, given that the incumbent President, and all those who seek to supplant her, are all cut from the same opportunistic, avaricious, and ultimately dishonest cloth, but I think that this should be something we should all hope and pray for.
Like most other people in this country, I honestly can't think of any solution to the political problems we are facing, but like I hope that, like me, most other people in this country continue to pray for one.
I'm not a fan of GMA's, and in fact I'm all for her impeachment, whether or not its success is a realistic prospect. But assuming that this Marcos burial thing is yet another gambit by members of the opposition to get the public to force her out of office, this is just sad. They've run out of shit to sling at her, so basically they've resorted to recycling the shit that brought about Erap's ouster in hopes that it will stick. Isn't this just depraved?
Frankly, I miss the days of Ramos. I'm not saying that I would vote for him again if there was an election tomorrow; I mean I just miss having a President for a full six-year term. For all his faults, Ramos had something that neither Erap had nor GMA has: the ability to get people--opposition members, civil society groups, and so on--to forget whatever's wrong with him and just let him serve his term. The funny thing is, to this day a lot of people firmly believe that he stole his election from Miriam Santiago. And yet...you don't hear people proclaiming that he was a phony President, the way they talk about GMA. Granted, Ramos didn't have a "Hello Garci" recording nailed to his ass, but the fact that the efforts to get him on tape weren't as assiduous as they were with GMA really says something about the man, the force of his character...I don't know.
Conrado de Quiros, a columnist for the Philippine Daily Inquirer, seems to be of the opinion that once GMA is gone (and I use his words) the country will cease to be divided. Now, I understand and utterly sympathize with his rage against the woman, whom he regularly compares to Marcos in terms of lust for power (a comparison which is not entirely unjustified) but I think it's kind of addled his brain. He doesn't seem to realize, in his righteous indignation, the wide disparity of interests currently comprising the so-called "united opposition." Create the power vacuum by forcing her out of office extra-legally, and even though there's already a constitutional successor waiting in the wings, the power struggle among the throng of pretenders will tear this country limb from emaciated limb.
I wish we had a Ramos (though not the Ramos, who can take his visions of a parliamentary government and just shove them). We need a statesman (or woman) who can rise above the muck of Philippine politics and just...govern. I don't really see how or when that can happen, given that the incumbent President, and all those who seek to supplant her, are all cut from the same opportunistic, avaricious, and ultimately dishonest cloth, but I think that this should be something we should all hope and pray for.
Like most other people in this country, I honestly can't think of any solution to the political problems we are facing, but like I hope that, like me, most other people in this country continue to pray for one.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Good Comic Book Movies (Almost) Never Coincide with Good Comics...
Last week I browsed through a copy of All Star Batman and Robin, DC Comics' event book scheduled to benefit from the then-anticipated, now-realized popularity of Batman Begins, the franchise revival. I enjoyed Batman Begins quite a bit and was actually contemplating buying All-Star. I flipped through it...and found myself scratching my head.
Batman, for one thing, doesn't show up until the last of twenty-two pages. The book is about Dick Grayson, and about how he first came to meet Batman. The story is told mostly from his viewpoint. That was pretty much a deal-breaker.
Almost the entire marketing campaign of Batman Begins was designed to distance this film from the last installment, the horrendous Batman and Robin. Even Christian Bale, the new Batman, has denounced Robin in an interview, saying that he was what made the whole book campy. And yet, rather than launch a new series in the vein of the Dark Knight books that clearly inspired Christopher Nolan's movie, DC comes up with a comic called Batman and Robin, which is focused on how the two characters first met. Are DC and their corporate parent, Warner Brothers, on the same page here?
Let me illustrate how little people were interested in seeing Robin: the title was shipped with variant covers in a 50/50 ratio, half of which were Batman covers and half of which were Robin covers. As expected, retailers ordered them by the truckload. This Monday I walked into my usual comics haunt and saw about five dozen copies of the book...all with Robin covers.
And it really hit me that the big two comic publishers, DC and Marvel, have really had a nasty habit of dropping the ball when it comes to translating the success of movies based on their characters into quality comics. The only exception that really comes to mind is when Marvel put JMS on writing duties for Amazing Spider-Man a year before Sam Raimi's 2002 movie came out. That year saw some great Spidey comics (even though the movie adaptation, which had Alan Davis art, for Pete's sake, still managed to disappoint).
The biggest boost movies can give the comics industry is new readers, who generally want to see a comic book that's true to the character they just saw on the big screen. It's not necessary to make someone identical in all respects; it's enough that the spirit of the character is captured. At least, that's my take on it. Straczynski (and Bendis over at Ultimate Spider-Man) nailed this concept back when they were writing the books on the stands at the time Spider-Man broke box-office records. They did what the Marvel staff couldn't do when the first X-Men movie hit paydirt: turn box-office attention into new readers.
All Star will probably sell like hotcakes, but I'll tell you for nothing it'll probably be because of Jim Lee and/or Frank Miller, not because of anyone who enjoyed the movie. Why, oh why did they make a comic book with Robin in green briefs after all of Warner Brothers' efforts to lance the boytoy wonder from Batman like a boil on someone's butt? I WOULD HAVE BOUGHT THE BLOODY THING!
At least All Star Superman still looks good...
Batman, for one thing, doesn't show up until the last of twenty-two pages. The book is about Dick Grayson, and about how he first came to meet Batman. The story is told mostly from his viewpoint. That was pretty much a deal-breaker.
Almost the entire marketing campaign of Batman Begins was designed to distance this film from the last installment, the horrendous Batman and Robin. Even Christian Bale, the new Batman, has denounced Robin in an interview, saying that he was what made the whole book campy. And yet, rather than launch a new series in the vein of the Dark Knight books that clearly inspired Christopher Nolan's movie, DC comes up with a comic called Batman and Robin, which is focused on how the two characters first met. Are DC and their corporate parent, Warner Brothers, on the same page here?
Let me illustrate how little people were interested in seeing Robin: the title was shipped with variant covers in a 50/50 ratio, half of which were Batman covers and half of which were Robin covers. As expected, retailers ordered them by the truckload. This Monday I walked into my usual comics haunt and saw about five dozen copies of the book...all with Robin covers.
And it really hit me that the big two comic publishers, DC and Marvel, have really had a nasty habit of dropping the ball when it comes to translating the success of movies based on their characters into quality comics. The only exception that really comes to mind is when Marvel put JMS on writing duties for Amazing Spider-Man a year before Sam Raimi's 2002 movie came out. That year saw some great Spidey comics (even though the movie adaptation, which had Alan Davis art, for Pete's sake, still managed to disappoint).
The biggest boost movies can give the comics industry is new readers, who generally want to see a comic book that's true to the character they just saw on the big screen. It's not necessary to make someone identical in all respects; it's enough that the spirit of the character is captured. At least, that's my take on it. Straczynski (and Bendis over at Ultimate Spider-Man) nailed this concept back when they were writing the books on the stands at the time Spider-Man broke box-office records. They did what the Marvel staff couldn't do when the first X-Men movie hit paydirt: turn box-office attention into new readers.
All Star will probably sell like hotcakes, but I'll tell you for nothing it'll probably be because of Jim Lee and/or Frank Miller, not because of anyone who enjoyed the movie. Why, oh why did they make a comic book with Robin in green briefs after all of Warner Brothers' efforts to lance the boytoy wonder from Batman like a boil on someone's butt? I WOULD HAVE BOUGHT THE BLOODY THING!
At least All Star Superman still looks good...
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
On Hakot Brigades
It's fairly common knowledge that tomorrow, Makati Major Jojo Binay, together with San Juan Mayor JV Ejercito intend to stage yet another wave of "mass protests" to raise the noise level of the clamor for GMA's ouster.
What not everyone might now is that there is supposedly a war chest of P5,000,000, a great sum of which is to be paid to the supposed "protesters." Now that is just sad.
UP Political Science professor and Philippine Star columnist Alex Magno described these assemblages as "rent-a-mobs." I know you can attach "rent-a" to almost anything these days, but that you can attach it to the word "mob" in this country (and, I think, only in this country so far) is such a painful indication of how far we've fallen from the glory days of EDSA.
Leave it to a Marcos crony like Ejercito to utterly pervert the concept of people power. They can't get the support of true rallyistas, so they basically fake it. Bravo.
What these fatheads don't seem to realize is that they all have conflicting agendas, and that the only thing holding them together is their desire to get rid of both GMA and Noli. Now, as much as I think Noli is a moron, my concern, really, is the rule of law, and by rights, he should be the next President, especially if the alternative is this bickering throng.
The immediate goal of these groups, even more than GMA's ouster, is to create mass hysteria, which is how they intend to bring this ouster about. The thing is, when asked what they have planned next, about half-a-dozen different groups have just as many answers. Oooh, I feel better about GMA being gone already...
One thing I'd like to know is, where are these bastards getting the money they're paying their "rent-a-mobs?" Pity the residents of San Juan and Makati...
What not everyone might now is that there is supposedly a war chest of P5,000,000, a great sum of which is to be paid to the supposed "protesters." Now that is just sad.
UP Political Science professor and Philippine Star columnist Alex Magno described these assemblages as "rent-a-mobs." I know you can attach "rent-a" to almost anything these days, but that you can attach it to the word "mob" in this country (and, I think, only in this country so far) is such a painful indication of how far we've fallen from the glory days of EDSA.
Leave it to a Marcos crony like Ejercito to utterly pervert the concept of people power. They can't get the support of true rallyistas, so they basically fake it. Bravo.
What these fatheads don't seem to realize is that they all have conflicting agendas, and that the only thing holding them together is their desire to get rid of both GMA and Noli. Now, as much as I think Noli is a moron, my concern, really, is the rule of law, and by rights, he should be the next President, especially if the alternative is this bickering throng.
The immediate goal of these groups, even more than GMA's ouster, is to create mass hysteria, which is how they intend to bring this ouster about. The thing is, when asked what they have planned next, about half-a-dozen different groups have just as many answers. Oooh, I feel better about GMA being gone already...
One thing I'd like to know is, where are these bastards getting the money they're paying their "rent-a-mobs?" Pity the residents of San Juan and Makati...
Monday, July 11, 2005
Why Avi Arad is a Genius
Well, I couldn't stand waiting anymore. I went out and watched Fantastic Four. For anyone interested, Robinson's Supermarket has a great deal going on. For every three hundred pesos worth of groceries, you get a movie pass that entitles you to see a movie free, the only catch being that you have to purchase at least P50 worth of snacks at their snack bar and pay a P3 tax. OR, if you have a companion who buys a regular ticket, you get in free. Nice. My wife and I can now afford to see about five movies or so for roughly P50.
This is not so much a review as it is a commentary on the fact that the Four opened at number one this weekend despite almost uniformly terrible reviews.
First, though, I'd like to give my take on the film. Well, being a fan I cannot flat-out denounce the movie as bad. I just can't, even though so much of it...well, is. There's a lot to like about it so all I'll say is that it could have been sooooo much better.
Anyway, the real star of this piece is not so much the movie as it is Marvel movie chief Avi Arad. I dare say he is Hollywood's next uber-producer, much in the mold of Jerry Bruckheimer. I say this because he has sold a movie that seemed impossible to sell and has proved a theory that many have long held: that the only people whiny fanboys who bellow on the internet speak for are...themselves.
One appreciates the success of the movie, even in the face of nearly universal critical rejection and fanboy whining, after finding out just what kind of Calvary its makers went through to get it off the ground. After ten years of false starts at Fox, and even in spite of the runaway success of the Spider-Man and X-Men franchises, the producers could not even snag an a-list (or even b-list) director, decent stars, or even a decent effects house. And apparently Fox was keen on finding the next X-Men, whether or not they had assembled the talent to pull one off, so the movie was shoved into a summer 2005 playdate, where it would face heavyweights like War of the Worlds and a re-tooled, much ballyhooed Batman prequel (reboot?).
Four had absolutely nothing on these movies in terms of the pedigree of their cast and crew, or production value, or even hype, even after attaching trailers to Star Wars: Episode III. So Avi Arad was faced with the daunting task of selling snow cones in Siberia. How did he do it? Simple. He asked himself: what does our movie have that theirs don't? And the answer came to him: fun. It has a fun, upbeat vibe, which is nearly nowhere to be found in the exploration of Batman's rather violent, albeit well-told, origin, and the wanton destruction of the earth by giant tripods.
And hot damn, as ridiculous as the movie sometimes is, it is a lot of wacky fun, in the vein of Brendan Fraser's Mummy movies, which entertain even despite atrocious acting and effects. The dynamic between the Thing and the Human Torch (who seems to have taken the lion's share of the special effects budget) is right out of the comics, and it's a joy to watch.
And that translated to mucho bucks at the U.S. box-office, namely a $56,000,000 number 1 opening last weekend. Genius. Of course, the future drop-offs are anyone's guess, but given that Arad's expectations for the movie were pegged at $100 million in the U.S., that 's pretty much mission accomplished.
Yes, indeed, the next Bruckheimer, with both classy and less-than-classy hits under his belt...
This is not so much a review as it is a commentary on the fact that the Four opened at number one this weekend despite almost uniformly terrible reviews.
First, though, I'd like to give my take on the film. Well, being a fan I cannot flat-out denounce the movie as bad. I just can't, even though so much of it...well, is. There's a lot to like about it so all I'll say is that it could have been sooooo much better.
Anyway, the real star of this piece is not so much the movie as it is Marvel movie chief Avi Arad. I dare say he is Hollywood's next uber-producer, much in the mold of Jerry Bruckheimer. I say this because he has sold a movie that seemed impossible to sell and has proved a theory that many have long held: that the only people whiny fanboys who bellow on the internet speak for are...themselves.
One appreciates the success of the movie, even in the face of nearly universal critical rejection and fanboy whining, after finding out just what kind of Calvary its makers went through to get it off the ground. After ten years of false starts at Fox, and even in spite of the runaway success of the Spider-Man and X-Men franchises, the producers could not even snag an a-list (or even b-list) director, decent stars, or even a decent effects house. And apparently Fox was keen on finding the next X-Men, whether or not they had assembled the talent to pull one off, so the movie was shoved into a summer 2005 playdate, where it would face heavyweights like War of the Worlds and a re-tooled, much ballyhooed Batman prequel (reboot?).
Four had absolutely nothing on these movies in terms of the pedigree of their cast and crew, or production value, or even hype, even after attaching trailers to Star Wars: Episode III. So Avi Arad was faced with the daunting task of selling snow cones in Siberia. How did he do it? Simple. He asked himself: what does our movie have that theirs don't? And the answer came to him: fun. It has a fun, upbeat vibe, which is nearly nowhere to be found in the exploration of Batman's rather violent, albeit well-told, origin, and the wanton destruction of the earth by giant tripods.
And hot damn, as ridiculous as the movie sometimes is, it is a lot of wacky fun, in the vein of Brendan Fraser's Mummy movies, which entertain even despite atrocious acting and effects. The dynamic between the Thing and the Human Torch (who seems to have taken the lion's share of the special effects budget) is right out of the comics, and it's a joy to watch.
And that translated to mucho bucks at the U.S. box-office, namely a $56,000,000 number 1 opening last weekend. Genius. Of course, the future drop-offs are anyone's guess, but given that Arad's expectations for the movie were pegged at $100 million in the U.S., that 's pretty much mission accomplished.
Yes, indeed, the next Bruckheimer, with both classy and less-than-classy hits under his belt...
Friday, July 08, 2005
What's It Gonna Take???
(This is not a piece on the current political crisis, just so anyone reading should know).
Last weekend, Steven Spielberg and Tom Cruise's latest collaboration War of the Worlds enjoyed an auspicious debut at the box office, making something like $111 million over the six-day fourth of July frame and thereby making the second best debut within that period, behind only last year's Spider-Man 2, with a towering (and in my opinion, richly deserved) $180 million. When asked how he felt about their film coming in at a distant second (to the all time record), Rob Friedman, the head of distribution at paramount, could have said a lot of things. He could have said "well, Spielberg movies have long legs" or "well, this movie got good reviews and could go the distance" or something else extolling War's qualities vis-a-vis potential longevity.
Instead he said "this is not a sequel. This is not a comic-book film. This is a 100-year-old literary property...blah blah blah." He kind of lost me after that egregiously cheap shot. And it really hit me: comic book/graphic novel based properties are still treated like second-class citizens in Hollywood by a distressingly large number of people. There are still closed-minded assholes out there who won't see a movie because "it's a comic book film."
Comic book movies have long achieved box-office legitimacy. Every decade since the seventies has had at least one landmark comic book movie, such as Superman (1978), Batman (1989), Men in Black (1997), and Spider-Man (2002). This millenium seems to be a particularly good time for comic book-based films, with a total of ten such films opening at number one in box-offices all around the world since 2000. In 2002, a film based on an independent comic book called Ghost World, received an Academy Award nomination for best adapted screenplay. In 2003, the comic-book based film Road to Perdition received six such nominations, including a Supporting Actor nod for the legendary Paul Newman, and won an Oscar for its cinematography.
So why in God's name do so many people still look at films based on comic books with such scorn? It kind of seems silly to champion thse films, given their success, but I honestly believe somebody should. You don't see comic book movies being honored at the BAFTA awards or the Cannes Film Festival. Even in Hollywood, some studios that own rights to comic book properties seem to treat them like their least valuable commodities, i.e. they don't bother springing for reputable writers, actors or visual effects houses, but just let nobodies cobble the film together, throw together some kind of marketing campaign and set the movie afloat hoping audiences and critics will embrace it, often not even caring about the latter. At least in Japan, where manga is recognized as a legitimate cultural institution, there seems to be a measure of respect for such material.
Apparently, the early reviews for Fantastic Four, which opens this weekend, were bad. The lot of them said that this movie was no Spider-Man 2, or even a Batman Begins, which oddly enough, kind of gives me a sense of hope, given that people acknowledge that there are good comic-book movies out there. Bad press notwithstanding, I sincerely hope the Four kick War right off that top spot on the charts. It might just help slam the point home that comic book movies are here to stay, and therefore deserve some measure of respect.
Maybe if a comic-book derived movie swept the Oscars, a la Return of the King, things would be different...
Last weekend, Steven Spielberg and Tom Cruise's latest collaboration War of the Worlds enjoyed an auspicious debut at the box office, making something like $111 million over the six-day fourth of July frame and thereby making the second best debut within that period, behind only last year's Spider-Man 2, with a towering (and in my opinion, richly deserved) $180 million. When asked how he felt about their film coming in at a distant second (to the all time record), Rob Friedman, the head of distribution at paramount, could have said a lot of things. He could have said "well, Spielberg movies have long legs" or "well, this movie got good reviews and could go the distance" or something else extolling War's qualities vis-a-vis potential longevity.
Instead he said "this is not a sequel. This is not a comic-book film. This is a 100-year-old literary property...blah blah blah." He kind of lost me after that egregiously cheap shot. And it really hit me: comic book/graphic novel based properties are still treated like second-class citizens in Hollywood by a distressingly large number of people. There are still closed-minded assholes out there who won't see a movie because "it's a comic book film."
Comic book movies have long achieved box-office legitimacy. Every decade since the seventies has had at least one landmark comic book movie, such as Superman (1978), Batman (1989), Men in Black (1997), and Spider-Man (2002). This millenium seems to be a particularly good time for comic book-based films, with a total of ten such films opening at number one in box-offices all around the world since 2000. In 2002, a film based on an independent comic book called Ghost World, received an Academy Award nomination for best adapted screenplay. In 2003, the comic-book based film Road to Perdition received six such nominations, including a Supporting Actor nod for the legendary Paul Newman, and won an Oscar for its cinematography.
So why in God's name do so many people still look at films based on comic books with such scorn? It kind of seems silly to champion thse films, given their success, but I honestly believe somebody should. You don't see comic book movies being honored at the BAFTA awards or the Cannes Film Festival. Even in Hollywood, some studios that own rights to comic book properties seem to treat them like their least valuable commodities, i.e. they don't bother springing for reputable writers, actors or visual effects houses, but just let nobodies cobble the film together, throw together some kind of marketing campaign and set the movie afloat hoping audiences and critics will embrace it, often not even caring about the latter. At least in Japan, where manga is recognized as a legitimate cultural institution, there seems to be a measure of respect for such material.
Apparently, the early reviews for Fantastic Four, which opens this weekend, were bad. The lot of them said that this movie was no Spider-Man 2, or even a Batman Begins, which oddly enough, kind of gives me a sense of hope, given that people acknowledge that there are good comic-book movies out there. Bad press notwithstanding, I sincerely hope the Four kick War right off that top spot on the charts. It might just help slam the point home that comic book movies are here to stay, and therefore deserve some measure of respect.
Maybe if a comic-book derived movie swept the Oscars, a la Return of the King, things would be different...
Thursday, July 07, 2005
My One Peso and Twelve Centavos on the Current Crisis
For those of you not paying attention, one pesos and twelve centavos is more or less the value of two American cents in our currency, at our current exchange rate.
By now it's pretty much known the world over how messed up the Philippines is thanks in part due to rampant corruption at the top governmental office, and in part due to massive concerted efforts to unseat the incumbent perpetrator of corruption. Hell, it's all over the newspapers, the internet, and even people's cellular phones. As a result, Filipinos and media men the world over wait on bated breath for the answer to the question of the year: will GMA resign, or won't she?
The possible scenarios have been exhaustively discussed, the different implications of each one have been tossed about by politicians and newswriters alike, and so it really seems there's nothing new to be said, even though from day to day, there seems to be a new can of worms waiting to be opened.
My personal opinion on this is that she should step down, or at the very least should let the impeachment process take its course without leaning on all her flunkies to bail her out. Maybe then the process might have a little more than an outside chance of being respected and not raped like it was the last time. Her vice-President, Noli de Castro should step up, and should the Filipino people get screwed up the ass by his incompetence or whatever it is that's supposed to be wrong with him, then maybe they should take it as an object lesson not to vote for people based purely on their popularity. I know it's a terrible thing to wish a potentially disastrous presidency on our people, but the truth is that the Filipino people (myself excluded) voted for this man, and so they/we deserve who THEY elected. In my opinion, if this sick twisted cow subverts the law to stay in power, or just as bad, if those pieces of shit who are creaming their pants at the thought of having their own shot at sodomizing the country are able to install their own extra-constitutional government, then our fundamental law, which is about the only scrap of dignity we have left over from the triumph of the 1986 EDSA Revolution, will be lost in the flames currently consuming us. She should step down/be removed, and Noli should take her place. That's the legal solution; that's the one everyone should focus on. Forget about Noli's kilometric list of shortcomings. If the election process, already the country's worst joke, is to have any chance of redemption, then the one duty elected should sit. Let's brace ourselves for five bad, potentially terrible years, then move on.
The only problem is that GMA isn't likely to step down, given all the laws and promises and spirits she broke just to get to where she is. She is one tenacious bitch, and she is not going to give up without a fight.
So where does that leave us, anyway? God only knows, but as for me, I'm taking my stand. Get the fuck out, GMA.
By now it's pretty much known the world over how messed up the Philippines is thanks in part due to rampant corruption at the top governmental office, and in part due to massive concerted efforts to unseat the incumbent perpetrator of corruption. Hell, it's all over the newspapers, the internet, and even people's cellular phones. As a result, Filipinos and media men the world over wait on bated breath for the answer to the question of the year: will GMA resign, or won't she?
The possible scenarios have been exhaustively discussed, the different implications of each one have been tossed about by politicians and newswriters alike, and so it really seems there's nothing new to be said, even though from day to day, there seems to be a new can of worms waiting to be opened.
My personal opinion on this is that she should step down, or at the very least should let the impeachment process take its course without leaning on all her flunkies to bail her out. Maybe then the process might have a little more than an outside chance of being respected and not raped like it was the last time. Her vice-President, Noli de Castro should step up, and should the Filipino people get screwed up the ass by his incompetence or whatever it is that's supposed to be wrong with him, then maybe they should take it as an object lesson not to vote for people based purely on their popularity. I know it's a terrible thing to wish a potentially disastrous presidency on our people, but the truth is that the Filipino people (myself excluded) voted for this man, and so they/we deserve who THEY elected. In my opinion, if this sick twisted cow subverts the law to stay in power, or just as bad, if those pieces of shit who are creaming their pants at the thought of having their own shot at sodomizing the country are able to install their own extra-constitutional government, then our fundamental law, which is about the only scrap of dignity we have left over from the triumph of the 1986 EDSA Revolution, will be lost in the flames currently consuming us. She should step down/be removed, and Noli should take her place. That's the legal solution; that's the one everyone should focus on. Forget about Noli's kilometric list of shortcomings. If the election process, already the country's worst joke, is to have any chance of redemption, then the one duty elected should sit. Let's brace ourselves for five bad, potentially terrible years, then move on.
The only problem is that GMA isn't likely to step down, given all the laws and promises and spirits she broke just to get to where she is. She is one tenacious bitch, and she is not going to give up without a fight.
So where does that leave us, anyway? God only knows, but as for me, I'm taking my stand. Get the fuck out, GMA.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Who Will The Next John Williams Be?
For anyone who bothers to pick up the Star Wars: Episode III soundtrack as I did, there's a delightful little bonus: a DVD with samplings from all six Star Wars movies, which essentially narrates the entire saga to selected cues of John Williams' immortal music. In a few short weeks, it's made my son Apel's most played list, topping former perennial favorites like the Spider-Man movies, Finding Nemo, and Ice Age. I can't help but be mesmerized by it myself. It's got all the great stuff: the Skywalker theme, the Imperial march, Princess Leia's theme...even Duel of the Fates.
The man is incredible. He's a living institution: the most Oscar-nominated person in history. He's also the one with the most blockbuster films having his name on them. No one, not Spielberg or Lucas or any of the big-name producers or directors can make such a claim, because Williams has worked with all of them.
And it's gotten me thinking: John Williams is 73 years old. One of his contemporaries, Star Trek maestro Jerry Goldsmith, has already gone on to meet the big composer in the sky. I can't help but wonder who could possibly succeed such a giant as contemporary filmmaking's premier composer? Who, for one, would compose Spielberg's movies, given that this task falls exclusively on John? Who would score Episodes VII to IX of Star Wars, if they were ever made? I came up with my own list of guys who might fit the bill, just for the sake of it...
1) Hans Zimmer. This guy is one of Hollywood's more prolific composers. I choose him because next to Williams, he seems to be Spielberg's go-to guy for music, given that he's the musical director of Dreamworks Pictures. The only thing he has going against him is that his stuff tends to sound generic, especially since Jerry Bruckheimer (who's also been known to lean on him) has apparently given the directive to every non-Zimmer composer of his films to write scores that sound exactly like Hans'.
2) James Horner. The first of film music's premier Jameses, this guy is quite prolific and has collaborated with a lot of high profile directors, like Ron Howard, James Cameron and Mel Gibson. He's also worked on Spielberg productions, though never any of the ones Steve directed. Problem with this guy is that when he doesn't sound like a Williams knockoff, he sounds like he's recycling his own old scores. I nonetheless consider myself a fan of his, his Braveheart being the most memorable of his scores. Powerful stuff that made Hans Zimmer's Gladiator sound like a Bruckheimer film. Oh, wait, it already did anyway.
3) James Newton Howard. The other major James in the music industry, this guy doesn't quite have the bombast of the Hornster but his stuff sounds a bit more innovative. And he doesn't have a tendency to lean on his winds the way Horner does. He's associated with a lot of good films and has lent the mood to all of M. Night Shyamalan's major Hollywood works. His most recent work was a team-up with Hans Zimmer for Batman Begins, and while I generally favor Zimmer's work, I have to say that it was JNH who came up with the more memorable cues, giving more life to the scenes with Bruce Wayne than Zimmer did with his driving, albeit seemingly recycled action cues for Batman.
4) Danny Elfman. Not quite in Williams' league (as if any of these guys really is...) but capable of some rather haunting melodies. He is in the list primarily because of his world-famous "Batman" cue, which has proven, if nothing else, that he has the chops to write major themes. Though he has yet to top that, he has since written music that seemed more nuanced and mature. For example, while his score for the Spider-Man movies disappointed with its lack of truly distinctive heroic cues, it compensated with character driven music and well-rendered tender moments.
5) Howard Shore. Four words are the reason this man is on this list: Lord of the Rings. This guy shows he can compose on a par with the scope that characterizes Williams' work. And his versatility blows the mind. He's collaborated of such cerebral filmmakers as Barbet Schroeder, David Cronenberg and David Fincher, and in Jonathan Demme's Silence of the Lambs helped make the name Hannibal Lecter synonymous with scary. But with Peter Jackson , Howard appears to have found his Spielberg. Truth be told, when I first heard he was composing the trilogy I didn't think he could pull it off, but the man has successfully scored not just one but three of the greatest movies of all time. That's something Steven should remember if he feels like making movies after John Williams has passed on.
And then of course there's the others...
The man is incredible. He's a living institution: the most Oscar-nominated person in history. He's also the one with the most blockbuster films having his name on them. No one, not Spielberg or Lucas or any of the big-name producers or directors can make such a claim, because Williams has worked with all of them.
And it's gotten me thinking: John Williams is 73 years old. One of his contemporaries, Star Trek maestro Jerry Goldsmith, has already gone on to meet the big composer in the sky. I can't help but wonder who could possibly succeed such a giant as contemporary filmmaking's premier composer? Who, for one, would compose Spielberg's movies, given that this task falls exclusively on John? Who would score Episodes VII to IX of Star Wars, if they were ever made? I came up with my own list of guys who might fit the bill, just for the sake of it...
1) Hans Zimmer. This guy is one of Hollywood's more prolific composers. I choose him because next to Williams, he seems to be Spielberg's go-to guy for music, given that he's the musical director of Dreamworks Pictures. The only thing he has going against him is that his stuff tends to sound generic, especially since Jerry Bruckheimer (who's also been known to lean on him) has apparently given the directive to every non-Zimmer composer of his films to write scores that sound exactly like Hans'.
2) James Horner. The first of film music's premier Jameses, this guy is quite prolific and has collaborated with a lot of high profile directors, like Ron Howard, James Cameron and Mel Gibson. He's also worked on Spielberg productions, though never any of the ones Steve directed. Problem with this guy is that when he doesn't sound like a Williams knockoff, he sounds like he's recycling his own old scores. I nonetheless consider myself a fan of his, his Braveheart being the most memorable of his scores. Powerful stuff that made Hans Zimmer's Gladiator sound like a Bruckheimer film. Oh, wait, it already did anyway.
3) James Newton Howard. The other major James in the music industry, this guy doesn't quite have the bombast of the Hornster but his stuff sounds a bit more innovative. And he doesn't have a tendency to lean on his winds the way Horner does. He's associated with a lot of good films and has lent the mood to all of M. Night Shyamalan's major Hollywood works. His most recent work was a team-up with Hans Zimmer for Batman Begins, and while I generally favor Zimmer's work, I have to say that it was JNH who came up with the more memorable cues, giving more life to the scenes with Bruce Wayne than Zimmer did with his driving, albeit seemingly recycled action cues for Batman.
4) Danny Elfman. Not quite in Williams' league (as if any of these guys really is...) but capable of some rather haunting melodies. He is in the list primarily because of his world-famous "Batman" cue, which has proven, if nothing else, that he has the chops to write major themes. Though he has yet to top that, he has since written music that seemed more nuanced and mature. For example, while his score for the Spider-Man movies disappointed with its lack of truly distinctive heroic cues, it compensated with character driven music and well-rendered tender moments.
5) Howard Shore. Four words are the reason this man is on this list: Lord of the Rings. This guy shows he can compose on a par with the scope that characterizes Williams' work. And his versatility blows the mind. He's collaborated of such cerebral filmmakers as Barbet Schroeder, David Cronenberg and David Fincher, and in Jonathan Demme's Silence of the Lambs helped make the name Hannibal Lecter synonymous with scary. But with Peter Jackson , Howard appears to have found his Spielberg. Truth be told, when I first heard he was composing the trilogy I didn't think he could pull it off, but the man has successfully scored not just one but three of the greatest movies of all time. That's something Steven should remember if he feels like making movies after John Williams has passed on.
And then of course there's the others...
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
In Praise of the Mid-Range Jump Shot
I am one of the taller members of my high school class. In this country, if you're over six feet people tend to assume you're a basketball player. Well, I was, in fact, a frustrated (and I use the word emphatically) track star, not really a cager, although I think one would have to be either handicapped or gay to be able to go through four years of high school without playing a single basketball game, at least if you're five foot nine or taller (I started high school at about five nine and graduated at roughly six feet).
I had a respectable vertical leap, so in the games with classmates and friends it was easy enough to monster the boards, unless I went up against the real basketball players, who more often than not outhustled me for rebounds. I was also a "low-post" kind of player, which I liked given that at one point, with my leap, I could grab a secure hold of the ring, a talent I carried all the way to my early years in law school.
Things pretty much went downhill about midway through law school, with my exercise time dwindling and my metabolism suddenly stalling bigtime. Since 2001, I've gained about fifteen pounds which have proven very, very difficult to shed, so my ring-grabbing days are all but over. I still like to shoot hoops, though, since my cousin has had a basketball ring installed in the backyard of the compound my family shares.
And it was there that I discoverd the jump shot.
The beauty of the jump shot is that just about anyone can master it. There is still a level of fitness involved, to be sure, but nothing like the kind that's needed to slam dunk or lay-up or even shoot three-pointers. It's just a matter of knowing how to shoot, which, in my older years, I seem to be a little better at.
I'm still taller than many of my friends, but now I don't feel like an overweight goofball moving in slow motion whenever we shoot some hoops. I have an asset to offer now; I can shoot the ball. It's fun to actually play and do something other than wave your arms in the air or wait under the ring for missed shots to recover.
The jump shot has saved the joy of basketball for me, which I almost lost going into adulthood. As a matter of fact, I think I even enjoy it more now than I ever did as a teen. Now I don't have to feel like a 40-year-old fart who's altogether lost zeal for sports, and while I'll never be eighteen again, at least 29 is now a fun place to be when it comes to basketball games, which are as useful in keeping friendships alive in one's older years as they are during one's adolescence.
I had a respectable vertical leap, so in the games with classmates and friends it was easy enough to monster the boards, unless I went up against the real basketball players, who more often than not outhustled me for rebounds. I was also a "low-post" kind of player, which I liked given that at one point, with my leap, I could grab a secure hold of the ring, a talent I carried all the way to my early years in law school.
Things pretty much went downhill about midway through law school, with my exercise time dwindling and my metabolism suddenly stalling bigtime. Since 2001, I've gained about fifteen pounds which have proven very, very difficult to shed, so my ring-grabbing days are all but over. I still like to shoot hoops, though, since my cousin has had a basketball ring installed in the backyard of the compound my family shares.
And it was there that I discoverd the jump shot.
The beauty of the jump shot is that just about anyone can master it. There is still a level of fitness involved, to be sure, but nothing like the kind that's needed to slam dunk or lay-up or even shoot three-pointers. It's just a matter of knowing how to shoot, which, in my older years, I seem to be a little better at.
I'm still taller than many of my friends, but now I don't feel like an overweight goofball moving in slow motion whenever we shoot some hoops. I have an asset to offer now; I can shoot the ball. It's fun to actually play and do something other than wave your arms in the air or wait under the ring for missed shots to recover.
The jump shot has saved the joy of basketball for me, which I almost lost going into adulthood. As a matter of fact, I think I even enjoy it more now than I ever did as a teen. Now I don't have to feel like a 40-year-old fart who's altogether lost zeal for sports, and while I'll never be eighteen again, at least 29 is now a fun place to be when it comes to basketball games, which are as useful in keeping friendships alive in one's older years as they are during one's adolescence.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Death in Comics Part II: A Requiem for CrossGen Comics
It's amazing what talented artists can do. Early last year I found myself riveted by the stunning pencils of Marvel Knights 4. The artist was an apparent newcomer named Steve McNiven. After seven issues, all of which I eagerly picked up, he left the title and I eagerly awaited the announcement of his next project, which was eventually revealed to be Ultimate Secret. Unfortuantely, an editorial snafu over at Marvel, which involved McNiven penciling fill-in issues of Brian Bendis' New Avengers, has caused Ultimate Secret to go on hiatus midway for the next three months until Marvel's fastest rising star finishes the art chores on its highest-selling title.
Left without my McNiven fix, I found myself scrounging back issue bins and the Internet for his past work, knowing that the Fantastic Four book had been his first-ever Marvel work. And it was there that I discovered the wonderful world of CrossGen.
When I first heard about CrossGen several years ago, all I knew about it was that a bunch of a-list comic book talents like Mark Waid, Chuck Dixon, George Perez and Brandon Peterson, to name a few, had put their heads together with the goal of creating a new line of comics which was to be as innovative and diverse as it was attractive. The common link of these different titles was, I think, some sort of symbol of power called the Sigil.
The lone book I've read from this line is Meridian, and if it's any indication, I think the CGE (that's CrossGen Entertainment) crew succeeded in their goal.
At first blush, Meridian seems a tad juvenile, being of the fantasty/Harry Potter persuasion, but it's undeniably imaginative. I love the concept of cities floating in the air, and use of ships with sails on the side as wings to navigate between them. There is something a little "Star Wars"-ish about the way the heroine, Sephie, is pitted against her evil Uncle, Ilahn, but the presentation is absolutely gorgeous, and the characterization isn't half-bad either.
As of now, I have the compiled edition of the first seven issues and the last two issues McNiven drew, #s 35 and 36. Not a whole lot, I know, but enough to convince me that this product deserved a whole lot more attention from the public than it got.
It saddens me to know, therefore, that CGE has since gone under, as of 2004, I understand. I don't know the reasons why, beyond the financial ones, but I can only guess that they weren't selling enough comics. Now that all of the company's talent has been divided up by the Big Two like spoils of war (like I said, I found out about McNiven in a Marvel comic book), it doesn't seem likely that we'll ever read any tales of the Sigil again, save on the back-issue or trade paperback market. I plan to complete all the issues of Meridian in between #7 and #35 (at least the ones by McNiven), whether in paperback or single issue form.
It pains me to see how fickle the comic book market is, and how resistant to truly new ideas it seems as well. It seems the only two true revolutions in comics took place in the thirties and forties and in the Stan Lee era. Everything since then has been bold new takes on familiar characters (the Dark Knight stuff) or deconstruction of the genre (e.g. Watchmen, Wanted). The few people that have really tried new things not only crashed and burned but are often remembered with ridicule (e.g. Jim Shooter's Valiant Comics). People think Hollywood is self-derivative? They should take a look at the comics market.
Don't get me wrong; I am a superhero fan like most comic book nuts out there. But I feel that like any art form, high art or otherwise, comics can only benefit from diversity, which in my opinion Crossgen really provided. It peeves me that, for all their innovation and incredible talent, they still went the way of Valiant, while companies like Top Cow still get to churn out garbage like Witchblade and The Darkness on a semi-regular basis. I certainly hope that when people mention failed endeavors in the comics field they do not mention Valiant and CrossGen in the same breath. The latter was a noble enterprise while the former was an exercise in unbridled hubris.
In its lifetime, CrossGen received its fare share of accolades, not only from self-styled comic-book critics, but from mainstream media and from SCHOOLS, no less. Too bad the legions of 17-35 year old males to whom most comics pander didn't bite. I can only hope that the next time a company comes along with hopes of infusing the market with something new and different, the reading public (at least the segment that determiness whether or not a comic line lives or dies) is more receptive.
Left without my McNiven fix, I found myself scrounging back issue bins and the Internet for his past work, knowing that the Fantastic Four book had been his first-ever Marvel work. And it was there that I discovered the wonderful world of CrossGen.
When I first heard about CrossGen several years ago, all I knew about it was that a bunch of a-list comic book talents like Mark Waid, Chuck Dixon, George Perez and Brandon Peterson, to name a few, had put their heads together with the goal of creating a new line of comics which was to be as innovative and diverse as it was attractive. The common link of these different titles was, I think, some sort of symbol of power called the Sigil.
The lone book I've read from this line is Meridian, and if it's any indication, I think the CGE (that's CrossGen Entertainment) crew succeeded in their goal.
At first blush, Meridian seems a tad juvenile, being of the fantasty/Harry Potter persuasion, but it's undeniably imaginative. I love the concept of cities floating in the air, and use of ships with sails on the side as wings to navigate between them. There is something a little "Star Wars"-ish about the way the heroine, Sephie, is pitted against her evil Uncle, Ilahn, but the presentation is absolutely gorgeous, and the characterization isn't half-bad either.
As of now, I have the compiled edition of the first seven issues and the last two issues McNiven drew, #s 35 and 36. Not a whole lot, I know, but enough to convince me that this product deserved a whole lot more attention from the public than it got.
It saddens me to know, therefore, that CGE has since gone under, as of 2004, I understand. I don't know the reasons why, beyond the financial ones, but I can only guess that they weren't selling enough comics. Now that all of the company's talent has been divided up by the Big Two like spoils of war (like I said, I found out about McNiven in a Marvel comic book), it doesn't seem likely that we'll ever read any tales of the Sigil again, save on the back-issue or trade paperback market. I plan to complete all the issues of Meridian in between #7 and #35 (at least the ones by McNiven), whether in paperback or single issue form.
It pains me to see how fickle the comic book market is, and how resistant to truly new ideas it seems as well. It seems the only two true revolutions in comics took place in the thirties and forties and in the Stan Lee era. Everything since then has been bold new takes on familiar characters (the Dark Knight stuff) or deconstruction of the genre (e.g. Watchmen, Wanted). The few people that have really tried new things not only crashed and burned but are often remembered with ridicule (e.g. Jim Shooter's Valiant Comics). People think Hollywood is self-derivative? They should take a look at the comics market.
Don't get me wrong; I am a superhero fan like most comic book nuts out there. But I feel that like any art form, high art or otherwise, comics can only benefit from diversity, which in my opinion Crossgen really provided. It peeves me that, for all their innovation and incredible talent, they still went the way of Valiant, while companies like Top Cow still get to churn out garbage like Witchblade and The Darkness on a semi-regular basis. I certainly hope that when people mention failed endeavors in the comics field they do not mention Valiant and CrossGen in the same breath. The latter was a noble enterprise while the former was an exercise in unbridled hubris.
In its lifetime, CrossGen received its fare share of accolades, not only from self-styled comic-book critics, but from mainstream media and from SCHOOLS, no less. Too bad the legions of 17-35 year old males to whom most comics pander didn't bite. I can only hope that the next time a company comes along with hopes of infusing the market with something new and different, the reading public (at least the segment that determiness whether or not a comic line lives or dies) is more receptive.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Death in Comics Part I
Remember when Dark Phoenix sacrificed herself to save the X-Men and the universe at large? Remember when Supergirl and Barry Allen, also known as the Flash, fell heroically during the turmoil of the Crisis on Infinite Earths? I sure do. I remember reading the Dark Phoenix Saga in grade five or something like that, and I remember the issues of Crisis (the only ones I read, incidentally) as being so momentous that my diehard Marvel cousin just had to buy them.
Back then, the death of comic book characters meant something. It was resonant. It was poignant. And it was done, above all else, in the name of powerful storytelling.
Nowadays, it's done for all the wrong reasons.
When Chris Claremont killed Jean Grey/Phoenix, he unleashed a fanboy shitstorm unlike any the comics world had ever seen. Supposedly the Marvel offices were inundated with hate mail. In a pre-internet age, that really says something. It took a full six years for Marvel to address the situation, and to their credit, although they did bring Jean back, they appeared to put some long and hard thought into how they would do it without making her death seem like a gimmick. Thing is, at the time Claremont killed Jean, he had no intention of brining her back.
Barry Allen, who had been Flash since the late fifties (DCphiles please correct me if I'm wrong), but the company had the cojones to kill him and keep him dead.
These are the only two deaths in the history of the medium that really mean something. Well, Gwen Stacy's death was a big deal, but even it has been retroactively tarnished of late.
These days, death in comics is done for sheer shock value, whether it's to launch an "event" storyline or to draw buzz to a book.
Last year, Marvel killed Hawkeye for the obvious shock value of it, figuring that their "Avengers Disassembled" storyline would be the more poignant for it. To my mind, it just became schlockier and now has collective Marvel fandom waiting for the editorial directive to raise him from the dead. The death of the Ant-Man, which also took place in that storyline, was cheap and uncalled for as well.
On the other side of the fence, DC killed Sue Dibny in their storyline of the year "Identity Crisis" which despite the rather sensationalist marketing campaign surrounding its launch, actually contained a pretty good storyline. Too bad they had to sully it by killing yet another secondary character this year in an attempt to launch a crossover event. To those of you who don't know who it is, let's just say Giffen, DeMatteis and Maguire probably feel their JLA lineup is dwindling slowly but surely.
And then, of course, there's the old stunt of killing a character whose popularity is dwindling. This was an unfortunate, inadvertent result of the whole Phoenix Saga, which despite everything that's come after it remains one of comics' most powerful moments.
That said, the resurrection of dead characters can be done with some flourish. Kevin Smith did a good job with Green Arrow, concocting a whole afterlife scenario to help ease Oliver Queen back into the DC Universe. Joss Whedon did an even better job with Colossus in Astonishing X-Men. But these comics were already founded on solid storytelling; the resurrection basically just helped them along. And these characters' deaths early on did not feel like dime-a-dozen deals, either.
I know these characters are company property, but it really bugs me that their lives are trivialized for the sake of short-term sales spikes. I've said before that comics aren't high art, but that doesn't excuse its purveyors from attempting some sort of creativity. I for one still buy books for writers, artists and stories that I like, and not because I'm anxious to see which b-level character is hyped to buy the farm. I know in my gut that majority of the comic book fans still pay good money for quality stories and art, not for cheap tricks. I hope I'm right.
Next: the Death of Nascent Comic Companies
Back then, the death of comic book characters meant something. It was resonant. It was poignant. And it was done, above all else, in the name of powerful storytelling.
Nowadays, it's done for all the wrong reasons.
When Chris Claremont killed Jean Grey/Phoenix, he unleashed a fanboy shitstorm unlike any the comics world had ever seen. Supposedly the Marvel offices were inundated with hate mail. In a pre-internet age, that really says something. It took a full six years for Marvel to address the situation, and to their credit, although they did bring Jean back, they appeared to put some long and hard thought into how they would do it without making her death seem like a gimmick. Thing is, at the time Claremont killed Jean, he had no intention of brining her back.
Barry Allen, who had been Flash since the late fifties (DCphiles please correct me if I'm wrong), but the company had the cojones to kill him and keep him dead.
These are the only two deaths in the history of the medium that really mean something. Well, Gwen Stacy's death was a big deal, but even it has been retroactively tarnished of late.
These days, death in comics is done for sheer shock value, whether it's to launch an "event" storyline or to draw buzz to a book.
Last year, Marvel killed Hawkeye for the obvious shock value of it, figuring that their "Avengers Disassembled" storyline would be the more poignant for it. To my mind, it just became schlockier and now has collective Marvel fandom waiting for the editorial directive to raise him from the dead. The death of the Ant-Man, which also took place in that storyline, was cheap and uncalled for as well.
On the other side of the fence, DC killed Sue Dibny in their storyline of the year "Identity Crisis" which despite the rather sensationalist marketing campaign surrounding its launch, actually contained a pretty good storyline. Too bad they had to sully it by killing yet another secondary character this year in an attempt to launch a crossover event. To those of you who don't know who it is, let's just say Giffen, DeMatteis and Maguire probably feel their JLA lineup is dwindling slowly but surely.
And then, of course, there's the old stunt of killing a character whose popularity is dwindling. This was an unfortunate, inadvertent result of the whole Phoenix Saga, which despite everything that's come after it remains one of comics' most powerful moments.
That said, the resurrection of dead characters can be done with some flourish. Kevin Smith did a good job with Green Arrow, concocting a whole afterlife scenario to help ease Oliver Queen back into the DC Universe. Joss Whedon did an even better job with Colossus in Astonishing X-Men. But these comics were already founded on solid storytelling; the resurrection basically just helped them along. And these characters' deaths early on did not feel like dime-a-dozen deals, either.
I know these characters are company property, but it really bugs me that their lives are trivialized for the sake of short-term sales spikes. I've said before that comics aren't high art, but that doesn't excuse its purveyors from attempting some sort of creativity. I for one still buy books for writers, artists and stories that I like, and not because I'm anxious to see which b-level character is hyped to buy the farm. I know in my gut that majority of the comic book fans still pay good money for quality stories and art, not for cheap tricks. I hope I'm right.
Next: the Death of Nascent Comic Companies
Friday, May 20, 2005
Fatherhood: the Sequel
Here's a little fact about me not everyone who knows me may know: I actually wanted my firstborn to be a girl. I'm not really sure why anymore, but at least, one kid later, I finally got the baby girl I wanted.
Parenthood in general is really a funny thing: it's a constant work in progress, from your twenties to your seventies (I say seventies because a great many parents begin to regress into children once they hit their eighties). If I had to put a peso coin in a five-liter jug for every screw up or faux pas I've committed since my son Raphael was born, whether in disciplining, handling or even just behaving in front of him, I'd probably have put my life's savings into the darned thing by now.
And yet, I can honestly say it's made me a better person in many ways. I view my being a father as an extension of my marriage in that they both require copious amounts of devotion and patience, no matter how much I love my spouse and my child. It can be frustrating and immensely fulfilling at the same time. I still remember changing Apel's diapers on a regular basis, and now he's going to the toilet by himself (although he hasn't gotten around to wiping himself just yet).
The funny part is; I've only just gotten through toilet-training one kid, when along comes another who is just as helpless and dependent upon me as her brother was not too long ago.
Which brings me to why I think having two kids within a reasonable gap of each other can be a valuable instructional tool to parents.
At three, Apel is very independent, almost to the point where he refuses our help a little too often for comfort. At times, we are content to let him do his own thing, confident he's not likely to bring the house crashing down around our heads, and at times, we even get frustrated with him when he seems to be acting too childishly.
But having a new baby brings it home to me: my son IS still a child. It's not that I've altogether lost sight of this simple truth, but I realize now that, even at this early age, I seem to be expecting too much of him. Part of me blames it on how increasingly competitive pre-school admission standards are, but I realize that I seem to be judging his growth more by adult standards than by reasonable children's standards.
Having a three-year-old makes having a two-week old such a glorious experience, for the reason I just mentioned, and because I get to relive all the simple joys of being a new parent; watching over the baby, cradling her in my arms and not having to prevent her from running into the street and becoming roadkill. It wasn't three years ago that I did this with my son, but it sure feels like a long time. I'm making it a point to savor this, because before I know it, I'll be chasing my toddler of a daughter too...
I can't help but wonder how I'll handle their reaching puberty...
Parenthood in general is really a funny thing: it's a constant work in progress, from your twenties to your seventies (I say seventies because a great many parents begin to regress into children once they hit their eighties). If I had to put a peso coin in a five-liter jug for every screw up or faux pas I've committed since my son Raphael was born, whether in disciplining, handling or even just behaving in front of him, I'd probably have put my life's savings into the darned thing by now.
And yet, I can honestly say it's made me a better person in many ways. I view my being a father as an extension of my marriage in that they both require copious amounts of devotion and patience, no matter how much I love my spouse and my child. It can be frustrating and immensely fulfilling at the same time. I still remember changing Apel's diapers on a regular basis, and now he's going to the toilet by himself (although he hasn't gotten around to wiping himself just yet).
The funny part is; I've only just gotten through toilet-training one kid, when along comes another who is just as helpless and dependent upon me as her brother was not too long ago.
Which brings me to why I think having two kids within a reasonable gap of each other can be a valuable instructional tool to parents.
At three, Apel is very independent, almost to the point where he refuses our help a little too often for comfort. At times, we are content to let him do his own thing, confident he's not likely to bring the house crashing down around our heads, and at times, we even get frustrated with him when he seems to be acting too childishly.
But having a new baby brings it home to me: my son IS still a child. It's not that I've altogether lost sight of this simple truth, but I realize now that, even at this early age, I seem to be expecting too much of him. Part of me blames it on how increasingly competitive pre-school admission standards are, but I realize that I seem to be judging his growth more by adult standards than by reasonable children's standards.
Having a three-year-old makes having a two-week old such a glorious experience, for the reason I just mentioned, and because I get to relive all the simple joys of being a new parent; watching over the baby, cradling her in my arms and not having to prevent her from running into the street and becoming roadkill. It wasn't three years ago that I did this with my son, but it sure feels like a long time. I'm making it a point to savor this, because before I know it, I'll be chasing my toddler of a daughter too...
I can't help but wonder how I'll handle their reaching puberty...
Saturday, May 14, 2005
Late Comics: What is Tolerable?
Almost one week ago, my wife gave birth to my first daughter, a beautiful, eight-pound baby girl. For some reason, I find myself at a loss as to how to write about it on this blog, but part of me feels that any post devoted to a topic as important as fatherhood deserves more reflection than I could possibly give it in a week, so for now I'll content myself with more banal, but nonetheless pleasurable topics, like...comics!
About three years ago, back when I lamented the lateness of "The Ultimates" a friend of mine pointed out that the book, specifically Bryan Hitch's eye-popping pencils, was well worth the wait and that he would rather endure a delay of a few months than put up with substandard artwork, either by the regular artist rushing to meet a deadline or worse, a fill-in artist with half the talent. His was a solid point; argument (if ever there was one) settled.
However, three years later, there are three incomplete Marvel miniseries, two of which began in 2002 and one of which began a year ago.
The Spider-Man/Black Cat miniseries was supposed to mark Kevin Smith's triumphant return to Marvel Comics (he had launched the Marvel Knights line in 1998, writing Daredevil ) after a successful run on Green Arrow over at DC. After three issues the book just...stopped. Back then, people didn't really notice because in November of that year, a month after the last SM/BC issued shipped, Marvel released Daredevil: The Target, another Kevin Smith book which marked his return to the character who had really helped him make his presence felt in the comics community. DTT fared even worse: it stopped after just one issue.
A year ago, Joe Quesada, now Marvel's Editor-in-Chief, returned to full-time penciling chores for the first time since becoming the company's head honcho, in a miniseries called Daredevil: Father. The first issue met with some mixed reviews, given the rather bizarre proportions in which JQ drew DD (like he had overdosed on steroids). More annoying, however, was that after the first issue, this series stopped too.
Here's the thing. For years internet geeks the world over have raised hell on message boards and in blogs about the irresponsibility of Marvel and the creators responsible for these debacles, so any tantrum I may throw regarding lateness may not seem like anything new. This is why my take on the situation is, maybe fandom should take it to the next level: maybe comic fans should take it to the next level somehow (insert solution here).
One of the biggest flaws of comic publishing is that errant creators such as Kevin Smith can hide behind the cloak of artistic license and similar bullshit in order to justify delays as egregious as those that have been staring fanboys in the face for almost half of the new millenium. There is no sense of accountability, whether to the characters, the publisher or the consumer. At least Marvel, for all its foibles, recently took the time to apologize online for the lateness of a number of its books. Of course, it could not speak for Kevin Smith. In fact, at a number of conventions, the fat bastard has been known to sass retailers who have taken him to task for his lateness, which he recently attributed to--get this--an inferiority complex!
The good news, old fatboy (excuse me, fanboy) Smith has suffered his share of bad karma for the agony he has inflicted on his fans. His latest film "Jersey Girl" was one of the bigger duds of Ben Afflecks' career, and even featured in either Newsweek or Time as one of Miramax's list of box-office failures. But that shouldn't take him off the hook.
There is a certain amount of professionalism that comes with being a comic book creator; at least there SHOULD be. Old school guys like Stan Lee, Roy Thomas and even Claremont got it right. Even contemporary guys like Bendis, Millar and Straczynski can work at a blistering pace. Straczynski, it should be pointed out, also has his fingers in the Hollywood pie, just like Smith, so Kev shouldn't use that as an excuse. Cumulatively, the three new creators I've mentioned have churned out over two hundred issues during the delay of the two aforementioned limited series.
As much as I love comics, the truth is that they aren't high art, and so there shouldn't be any justification for ridiculous, YEARLONG delays between issues, especially when that delay is attributable to WRITERS, whose job is considerably easier than those of the artists. Although I really do want to buy the conclusion to both these series (which is the reason I'm complaining in the first place), I really believe that people like Kevin Smith, who seem to have nothing but utter contempt for anyone's concerns but their own, have no business writing comics. The guy may be talented, but he isn't THAT talented. My only hope is that should the final issues of SM/BC finally ship, I don't find myself saying "THIS IS WHAT I WAITED X YEARS FOR???"
About three years ago, back when I lamented the lateness of "The Ultimates" a friend of mine pointed out that the book, specifically Bryan Hitch's eye-popping pencils, was well worth the wait and that he would rather endure a delay of a few months than put up with substandard artwork, either by the regular artist rushing to meet a deadline or worse, a fill-in artist with half the talent. His was a solid point; argument (if ever there was one) settled.
However, three years later, there are three incomplete Marvel miniseries, two of which began in 2002 and one of which began a year ago.
The Spider-Man/Black Cat miniseries was supposed to mark Kevin Smith's triumphant return to Marvel Comics (he had launched the Marvel Knights line in 1998, writing Daredevil ) after a successful run on Green Arrow over at DC. After three issues the book just...stopped. Back then, people didn't really notice because in November of that year, a month after the last SM/BC issued shipped, Marvel released Daredevil: The Target, another Kevin Smith book which marked his return to the character who had really helped him make his presence felt in the comics community. DTT fared even worse: it stopped after just one issue.
A year ago, Joe Quesada, now Marvel's Editor-in-Chief, returned to full-time penciling chores for the first time since becoming the company's head honcho, in a miniseries called Daredevil: Father. The first issue met with some mixed reviews, given the rather bizarre proportions in which JQ drew DD (like he had overdosed on steroids). More annoying, however, was that after the first issue, this series stopped too.
Here's the thing. For years internet geeks the world over have raised hell on message boards and in blogs about the irresponsibility of Marvel and the creators responsible for these debacles, so any tantrum I may throw regarding lateness may not seem like anything new. This is why my take on the situation is, maybe fandom should take it to the next level: maybe comic fans should take it to the next level somehow (insert solution here).
One of the biggest flaws of comic publishing is that errant creators such as Kevin Smith can hide behind the cloak of artistic license and similar bullshit in order to justify delays as egregious as those that have been staring fanboys in the face for almost half of the new millenium. There is no sense of accountability, whether to the characters, the publisher or the consumer. At least Marvel, for all its foibles, recently took the time to apologize online for the lateness of a number of its books. Of course, it could not speak for Kevin Smith. In fact, at a number of conventions, the fat bastard has been known to sass retailers who have taken him to task for his lateness, which he recently attributed to--get this--an inferiority complex!
The good news, old fatboy (excuse me, fanboy) Smith has suffered his share of bad karma for the agony he has inflicted on his fans. His latest film "Jersey Girl" was one of the bigger duds of Ben Afflecks' career, and even featured in either Newsweek or Time as one of Miramax's list of box-office failures. But that shouldn't take him off the hook.
There is a certain amount of professionalism that comes with being a comic book creator; at least there SHOULD be. Old school guys like Stan Lee, Roy Thomas and even Claremont got it right. Even contemporary guys like Bendis, Millar and Straczynski can work at a blistering pace. Straczynski, it should be pointed out, also has his fingers in the Hollywood pie, just like Smith, so Kev shouldn't use that as an excuse. Cumulatively, the three new creators I've mentioned have churned out over two hundred issues during the delay of the two aforementioned limited series.
As much as I love comics, the truth is that they aren't high art, and so there shouldn't be any justification for ridiculous, YEARLONG delays between issues, especially when that delay is attributable to WRITERS, whose job is considerably easier than those of the artists. Although I really do want to buy the conclusion to both these series (which is the reason I'm complaining in the first place), I really believe that people like Kevin Smith, who seem to have nothing but utter contempt for anyone's concerns but their own, have no business writing comics. The guy may be talented, but he isn't THAT talented. My only hope is that should the final issues of SM/BC finally ship, I don't find myself saying "THIS IS WHAT I WAITED X YEARS FOR???"
Thursday, May 05, 2005
How Insulated Are We?
I confess to having led a fairly sheltered life. Growing up, I never wanted for anything, my family went on vacation regularly (albeit only within Luzon). Both my elementary and high school years, I spent in high-end private schools, only to head to UP when I decided I wanted a different environment. My parents let me choose what I wanted to do with my life because I was never under any pressure to earn a living.
Growing up, even in two turbulent decades like the 70s and 80s, both of which saw sky-rocketing oil prices and foreign debt crises, I honestly never really felt the burn of bad governance, other perhaps than the fact that my father often turned the car off at every stoplight (in an attempt to save gas). It was only in the late eighties that I began to commute, and I never had any problem with fare from that point all the way through the 90s.
Now that I'm married with a son (and very, very soon, a daughter) I have responsibilities to balance and obligations to meet. Taking the bar exam was a very expensive experience even though my wife and I both had well-paying jobs at the time I quit. I wince at gas prices. I haggle with my landlord on deadlines for the rent. In short, I now live in the real world.
Because of this world I live in, I genuinely worry. My parents (more often my father, but you better believe my mother helped out a lot; we got discounts back in high school because she taught in the college) managed to keep all our heads above water, but times were not quite as hard, and we had the benefit of a house we didn't have to rent.
Now that I'm a parent, with obligations up the wazoo, will I be up to snuff? I don't exactly imagine my family moving into a squatter area, but how am I supposed to stand up to the rough times I know lie ahead? Should I take to the streets and ask for GMA to step down, even though I honestly have no idea who should be running the government or how it should be run? Should I sell my services to the highest bidder and try to grab the highest paid job, even if it could mean defending the interests of the scum of the earth, just so I can ensure my children's future? You'd think these questions have easy answers, and maybe they would have if you had asked me seven years ago, when I graduated from college.
It all seems so frightening now, what with my civil servant's salary and all. I am trimming down my lifestyle, I am trying to manage the household, but with the economy being what it is and oil prices being continually unpredictable I just wonder what I'm going to end up doing with my life to keep a few steps ahead of hardship. I hope whatever it is I do is something I won't have any trouble living with, because as unpalatable as the idea of never having enough money is, the idea of having more than enough at the expense of decency kind of frightens me.
Growing up, even in two turbulent decades like the 70s and 80s, both of which saw sky-rocketing oil prices and foreign debt crises, I honestly never really felt the burn of bad governance, other perhaps than the fact that my father often turned the car off at every stoplight (in an attempt to save gas). It was only in the late eighties that I began to commute, and I never had any problem with fare from that point all the way through the 90s.
Now that I'm married with a son (and very, very soon, a daughter) I have responsibilities to balance and obligations to meet. Taking the bar exam was a very expensive experience even though my wife and I both had well-paying jobs at the time I quit. I wince at gas prices. I haggle with my landlord on deadlines for the rent. In short, I now live in the real world.
Because of this world I live in, I genuinely worry. My parents (more often my father, but you better believe my mother helped out a lot; we got discounts back in high school because she taught in the college) managed to keep all our heads above water, but times were not quite as hard, and we had the benefit of a house we didn't have to rent.
Now that I'm a parent, with obligations up the wazoo, will I be up to snuff? I don't exactly imagine my family moving into a squatter area, but how am I supposed to stand up to the rough times I know lie ahead? Should I take to the streets and ask for GMA to step down, even though I honestly have no idea who should be running the government or how it should be run? Should I sell my services to the highest bidder and try to grab the highest paid job, even if it could mean defending the interests of the scum of the earth, just so I can ensure my children's future? You'd think these questions have easy answers, and maybe they would have if you had asked me seven years ago, when I graduated from college.
It all seems so frightening now, what with my civil servant's salary and all. I am trimming down my lifestyle, I am trying to manage the household, but with the economy being what it is and oil prices being continually unpredictable I just wonder what I'm going to end up doing with my life to keep a few steps ahead of hardship. I hope whatever it is I do is something I won't have any trouble living with, because as unpalatable as the idea of never having enough money is, the idea of having more than enough at the expense of decency kind of frightens me.
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Underrated Visual-Effects-Heavy Movies
It's a given that there are a lot of underrated movies out there, and I'm sure every casual movie fan has his own top ten, but it occurred to me that it doesn't really occur to that many people to consider effects-heavy films as "underrated." This is a word that, to my limited experience at least, seems reserved for more artsy fartsy fare like Merchant/Ivory flicks or something.
However, looking back over the last ten years, I feel that there are a number of commercial movies which did not quite get the attention they deserved, whether in terms of box-office take or peer recognition (i.e. Oscar nomination). Here's my list, in no particular order:
1. Casper (1995) - I realize it's nothing really new, given that ILM had already perfected the techniques used in this movie way back in 1988's Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, but it can't be denied that Dennis Muren and his crew had made a number of improvements over the previous melding of animation and live action.
2. The Frighteners (1996) - Okay, so the effects in this movie, while fun, were not terribly convincing, but the wizardry of WETA was already evident in the way they conjured up those specters. Way back then they were already cutting their teeth on this film in preparation for the monumental Lord of the Rings Trilogy.
3. The Fifth Element (1997) - My favorite Luc Besson film, although I've only seen three, including the disastrous Joan of Arc. The cab chase scene was incredibly slick and even holds up rather well against the oddly similar Coruscant chase scene, five years later, in Star Wars, Episode II. Although Digital Domain reaped awards and accolades that year for recapturing the sinking of the Titanic, for my money, this movie was a much better achievement. And all it got was a stinking Sound Effects Editing nomination...
4. Contact (1997) - Compared to Bob Zemeckis' more seminal films such as the Back to the Future trilogy and Forrest Gump, this movie is not one of his flashier pieces. However, other than the fact that it's a little simplistic in the way it reduces Jodie Foster's staunch empiricist to a simpering mess in the final act, this movie actually plays pretty well, thanks in large part to the impressive realization of the bizarre space travel machine which whisks Jodie Foster off to meet an alien being disguised as her father. This movie made use of three, count 'em, three major studios to bring its effects to life, namely Sony Pictures Imageworks, ILM and WETA, and Zemeckis, as far as the effects are concerned, is definitely in his element. Oscar recognition? Just a nomination for best achievement in Sound...
5. Minority Report (2002) - Okay, I would just like to say that it was absolutely criminal how this movie was overlooked for not just the visual effects oscar but for a number of technical achievements like cinematography, musical score and art direction. The funny thing is, it's not like Spielberg and Cruise need any kind of charity from anybody to call attention to their work, but I think that this movie deserved a lot more than the Sound-Effects Editing nomination it got that year from the Academy (ever notice how this seems to be some kind of "consolation nomination" for films that get shut out of the technical awards?) In fact, as a fan of the first Spider-Man movie I can say that this movie actually robbed M.R. of the nod it deserved.
Well, if anyone out there overlooked these movies the way I thought the Academy and audiences did, the DVDs are out there for the watching...
However, looking back over the last ten years, I feel that there are a number of commercial movies which did not quite get the attention they deserved, whether in terms of box-office take or peer recognition (i.e. Oscar nomination). Here's my list, in no particular order:
1. Casper (1995) - I realize it's nothing really new, given that ILM had already perfected the techniques used in this movie way back in 1988's Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, but it can't be denied that Dennis Muren and his crew had made a number of improvements over the previous melding of animation and live action.
2. The Frighteners (1996) - Okay, so the effects in this movie, while fun, were not terribly convincing, but the wizardry of WETA was already evident in the way they conjured up those specters. Way back then they were already cutting their teeth on this film in preparation for the monumental Lord of the Rings Trilogy.
3. The Fifth Element (1997) - My favorite Luc Besson film, although I've only seen three, including the disastrous Joan of Arc. The cab chase scene was incredibly slick and even holds up rather well against the oddly similar Coruscant chase scene, five years later, in Star Wars, Episode II. Although Digital Domain reaped awards and accolades that year for recapturing the sinking of the Titanic, for my money, this movie was a much better achievement. And all it got was a stinking Sound Effects Editing nomination...
4. Contact (1997) - Compared to Bob Zemeckis' more seminal films such as the Back to the Future trilogy and Forrest Gump, this movie is not one of his flashier pieces. However, other than the fact that it's a little simplistic in the way it reduces Jodie Foster's staunch empiricist to a simpering mess in the final act, this movie actually plays pretty well, thanks in large part to the impressive realization of the bizarre space travel machine which whisks Jodie Foster off to meet an alien being disguised as her father. This movie made use of three, count 'em, three major studios to bring its effects to life, namely Sony Pictures Imageworks, ILM and WETA, and Zemeckis, as far as the effects are concerned, is definitely in his element. Oscar recognition? Just a nomination for best achievement in Sound...
5. Minority Report (2002) - Okay, I would just like to say that it was absolutely criminal how this movie was overlooked for not just the visual effects oscar but for a number of technical achievements like cinematography, musical score and art direction. The funny thing is, it's not like Spielberg and Cruise need any kind of charity from anybody to call attention to their work, but I think that this movie deserved a lot more than the Sound-Effects Editing nomination it got that year from the Academy (ever notice how this seems to be some kind of "consolation nomination" for films that get shut out of the technical awards?) In fact, as a fan of the first Spider-Man movie I can say that this movie actually robbed M.R. of the nod it deserved.
Well, if anyone out there overlooked these movies the way I thought the Academy and audiences did, the DVDs are out there for the watching...
Monday, April 25, 2005
On Yearbooks
It's funny how certain things come to mind with the election of a new pope. When Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger became Pope Benedict XVI, it was inevitable that, along with the outpouring of joy from the faithful, there would be a number of groups who would have their axes to grind with him, what with his being openly conservative and all. One such demographic was the gay sector, and here in the Philippines, one spokesperson for a gay lobbyist group echoed the apprehensions of gay communities the world over.
What he said, however, didn't leave nearly as much of an impression on me as who he was. His name, prominently featured in the article, was Jonas Bagas. Upon seeing that name, I couldn't help but think to myself: doesn't this guy owe my batch a yearbook?
It's been seven years since I graduated from UP Diliman with a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, and two years since I graduated from UP's College of Law, and yet strangely enough it is only of the latter batch that I have a yearbook.
I've spoken to some people, UP graduates all, in the seven years that have passed since my college graduation, of different batches and colleges. Apparently, the unpublished yearbook is a fairly common phenomenon that occurs year in and year out. It goes like this: a college will form a committee to put a yearbook together, the committee will bitch and moan about how the yearbook can't get done because not everyone from the batch has paid, the batch will graduate, get jobs, get married, and move on with their lives, and forget about the yearbook, which incidentally never gets done (whether or not everyone pays), or else will figure that it's not worth the grief of chasing down the bastards responsible for its release. Oh, yes, and the money never gets returned. One night, within the last two years, I was sitting at a dinner table with several longtime graduates from UP and heard something that confirmed a suspicion I had long harbored about what yearbook committees actually do with the money: one guy in charge of his batch's yearbook admitted, rather nonchalantly at that, to spending all of the money.
Personally, I would like to see my yearbook. I graduated cum laude from UP that year (a feat I was not able to duplicate when I finished law school) and would like a somewhat more aesthetically pleasing reminder other than my diploma and transcripts. It would also be nice to have a look at the people I graduated with (in case I run into them in the street years from now and am unable to remember their names, which has already happened an embarrassing number of times). But what bothers me most is that this annual yearbook scam has become so commonplace that most people are willing to just let it go. It strikes me how UP graduates like a lot of these yearbook committee people have the temerity to join or even stage rallies against corruption when they are blatant practitioners of it.
It's been seven years. No one I know from my Poli Sci batch (which is a considerable number of people given that, like me, many of them have gone on to become lawyers) has seen neither a yearbook nor a refund of his money. I heard one rumor that the money was no longer in Jonas' hands. The fact remains though, that the yearbook, and our funds, were, excuse me, ARE his responsibility.
One would think that the guy would at least have the decency to keep a low profile, but to make statements for the newspaper, where everyone can read his name? That kind of adds insult to injury as far as I'm concerned.
I know the members of my batch have gone their separate ways and are not likely to bring suit against this guy (although really, there's still time, people, because the period for estafa has not yet prescribed), but I would really like to take this opportunity to admonish future or newly graduating batches, don't let this happen to you. Stick up for your rights, and don't let some scam artist blow your money, whether it's on his boytoys or on anything other than the YEARBOOK he/she or they are supposed to be publishing!
This is an unfortunate dimension of our culture of corruption (yes, Raul Roco, it does exist) because it takes place in the academe, the supposed bastion of idealism, and so it must be stamped out as soon as possible.
What he said, however, didn't leave nearly as much of an impression on me as who he was. His name, prominently featured in the article, was Jonas Bagas. Upon seeing that name, I couldn't help but think to myself: doesn't this guy owe my batch a yearbook?
It's been seven years since I graduated from UP Diliman with a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, and two years since I graduated from UP's College of Law, and yet strangely enough it is only of the latter batch that I have a yearbook.
I've spoken to some people, UP graduates all, in the seven years that have passed since my college graduation, of different batches and colleges. Apparently, the unpublished yearbook is a fairly common phenomenon that occurs year in and year out. It goes like this: a college will form a committee to put a yearbook together, the committee will bitch and moan about how the yearbook can't get done because not everyone from the batch has paid, the batch will graduate, get jobs, get married, and move on with their lives, and forget about the yearbook, which incidentally never gets done (whether or not everyone pays), or else will figure that it's not worth the grief of chasing down the bastards responsible for its release. Oh, yes, and the money never gets returned. One night, within the last two years, I was sitting at a dinner table with several longtime graduates from UP and heard something that confirmed a suspicion I had long harbored about what yearbook committees actually do with the money: one guy in charge of his batch's yearbook admitted, rather nonchalantly at that, to spending all of the money.
Personally, I would like to see my yearbook. I graduated cum laude from UP that year (a feat I was not able to duplicate when I finished law school) and would like a somewhat more aesthetically pleasing reminder other than my diploma and transcripts. It would also be nice to have a look at the people I graduated with (in case I run into them in the street years from now and am unable to remember their names, which has already happened an embarrassing number of times). But what bothers me most is that this annual yearbook scam has become so commonplace that most people are willing to just let it go. It strikes me how UP graduates like a lot of these yearbook committee people have the temerity to join or even stage rallies against corruption when they are blatant practitioners of it.
It's been seven years. No one I know from my Poli Sci batch (which is a considerable number of people given that, like me, many of them have gone on to become lawyers) has seen neither a yearbook nor a refund of his money. I heard one rumor that the money was no longer in Jonas' hands. The fact remains though, that the yearbook, and our funds, were, excuse me, ARE his responsibility.
One would think that the guy would at least have the decency to keep a low profile, but to make statements for the newspaper, where everyone can read his name? That kind of adds insult to injury as far as I'm concerned.
I know the members of my batch have gone their separate ways and are not likely to bring suit against this guy (although really, there's still time, people, because the period for estafa has not yet prescribed), but I would really like to take this opportunity to admonish future or newly graduating batches, don't let this happen to you. Stick up for your rights, and don't let some scam artist blow your money, whether it's on his boytoys or on anything other than the YEARBOOK he/she or they are supposed to be publishing!
This is an unfortunate dimension of our culture of corruption (yes, Raul Roco, it does exist) because it takes place in the academe, the supposed bastion of idealism, and so it must be stamped out as soon as possible.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
The Anatomy of Untruth
Perhaps the complexity of living out a lie can be most comically illustrated in the film "Waking Ned Devine." It's a delightful, if slightly naughty film about an entire Irish village that conspires to conceal the death of one of its residents in order to claim from the national lottery authority his winnings in the lotto. It's hilarious and nail-biting at the same time, and while we certainly root for the main characters, we realize after the end of the movie just how difficult, if not implausible, such duplicity would be in real life.
While there are admittedly many species of lies, classified primarily by their most visible effects, all of them are composed essentially of the same element: the alteration of the truth. Some lies are a slight distortion of reality while others basically throw it out the window. Some of them are one-time deals while others need to be carefully and painstakingly perpetuated, and it is this that I feel the need to discuss.
One-time lies are easy to churn out and forget, but the funny thing is that they are, in the long-run, actually very uncommon, because once a lie gets out there, it has a tendency to come back and bite its source on the butt. This may only occur once or twice, or many times in one's lifetime.
The mother of all lies, though, is the one that requires perpetuation, because too often it demands an almost slavish dedication to consistency and a willingness to structure one's waking reality around that lie. What if one cannot? What happens to the lie then, white lie or otherwise? It collapses under the weight of its own inconsistencies.
...and yet, so many people out there, some of whom I know, would prefer to take their chances with building up a lie that will eventually come crashing down on their heads than deal with the truth.
While there are admittedly many species of lies, classified primarily by their most visible effects, all of them are composed essentially of the same element: the alteration of the truth. Some lies are a slight distortion of reality while others basically throw it out the window. Some of them are one-time deals while others need to be carefully and painstakingly perpetuated, and it is this that I feel the need to discuss.
One-time lies are easy to churn out and forget, but the funny thing is that they are, in the long-run, actually very uncommon, because once a lie gets out there, it has a tendency to come back and bite its source on the butt. This may only occur once or twice, or many times in one's lifetime.
The mother of all lies, though, is the one that requires perpetuation, because too often it demands an almost slavish dedication to consistency and a willingness to structure one's waking reality around that lie. What if one cannot? What happens to the lie then, white lie or otherwise? It collapses under the weight of its own inconsistencies.
...and yet, so many people out there, some of whom I know, would prefer to take their chances with building up a lie that will eventually come crashing down on their heads than deal with the truth.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
About Abolishing the Bar
I never thought I'd find myself agreeing with Miriam Defensor-Santiago on anything, but last Sunday, a little over twenty-four hours after I learned that I had passed the bar, I found myself doing just that, but only to an extent.
The original tantrum-thrower (and the best one in the game, at that), Miriam has decried the bar as a deceptive and ultimately limited barometer of one's fitness to join the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, and has boldly proposed to junk the bar examinations in favor of a system that will supposedly gauge more accurately one's fitness to practice law. Her idea is to replace the bar exam with a law school aptitude exam that is a bit like the NMAT taken by aspiring medical students before they can get into med school, and a one-year internship.
Even as someone who suffered two years in a row to finally earn my stripes and pass that holy terror of an exam, I have to say that I found myself agreeing with some of her arguments. Indeed, the bar exams tend to ask too much of the examinees, that is to say, they expect the examinee to know everything at one given time. They really do put undue premium on memorization and offer no real demonstration of one's skill in practicing law.
But the extent of my assent kind of stops there, because the system Senator Santiago is proposing just doesn't ring true for me. For one thing, she seems to contradict herself. On the one hand she asserts that her proposed system will help weed out those who are not fit to practice law, but on the other hand she laments how, almost invariably, about two-thirds or more of any given batch of examinees fail it, year in and year out. If a number of people incapable of expressing themselves in the English language or of articulating issues of fact and law are prevented from hurdling the bar, wouldn't this have the same effect as her proposed aptitude test?
For another thing, I think that this proposed initiative, while theoretically rather admirable, and with existing precedent in other countries (e.g. Australia) is not culturally appropriate to the Philippines. It's been lamented that year in and year out, fraternities and powerful segments of the lawyer community conspire to cheat in order to ensure that their young proteges (i.e. brods) make the grade. Miriam's proposal of internship and merely submitting papers only opens the door for more rampant corruption and duplicity.
There are at least 75 law schools that fielded candidates for the last bar exams. Of these, how many UPs or Ateneos or even San Bedas are there? How many, on the other hand, are not afraid to graduate students who are willing to pay a handsome sum for such a privilege, even though they don't deserve it? In a culture where thesis papers, and sometimes degrees, are open-market commodities, it is dangerous to leave in the hands of the schools the determination of whether or not one can be a lawyer. Corruption, even in the academe, is simply to well-entrenched to ignore.
Furthermore, as flawed as it may be, the bar is the only effective existing measure by which the Supreme Court can separate the wheat from the chaff. Take away the qualifying exam and any Tom, Dick or Harry (epsecially those willing to bribe their way through can become a lawyer. Not even the people on the streets see the point in abolishing the bar; they say it's one of the only ways for them to know just how good a lawyer is.
Personally, I vote to keep the exam but to change its format. That's about it, really.
The original tantrum-thrower (and the best one in the game, at that), Miriam has decried the bar as a deceptive and ultimately limited barometer of one's fitness to join the Integrated Bar of the Philippines, and has boldly proposed to junk the bar examinations in favor of a system that will supposedly gauge more accurately one's fitness to practice law. Her idea is to replace the bar exam with a law school aptitude exam that is a bit like the NMAT taken by aspiring medical students before they can get into med school, and a one-year internship.
Even as someone who suffered two years in a row to finally earn my stripes and pass that holy terror of an exam, I have to say that I found myself agreeing with some of her arguments. Indeed, the bar exams tend to ask too much of the examinees, that is to say, they expect the examinee to know everything at one given time. They really do put undue premium on memorization and offer no real demonstration of one's skill in practicing law.
But the extent of my assent kind of stops there, because the system Senator Santiago is proposing just doesn't ring true for me. For one thing, she seems to contradict herself. On the one hand she asserts that her proposed system will help weed out those who are not fit to practice law, but on the other hand she laments how, almost invariably, about two-thirds or more of any given batch of examinees fail it, year in and year out. If a number of people incapable of expressing themselves in the English language or of articulating issues of fact and law are prevented from hurdling the bar, wouldn't this have the same effect as her proposed aptitude test?
For another thing, I think that this proposed initiative, while theoretically rather admirable, and with existing precedent in other countries (e.g. Australia) is not culturally appropriate to the Philippines. It's been lamented that year in and year out, fraternities and powerful segments of the lawyer community conspire to cheat in order to ensure that their young proteges (i.e. brods) make the grade. Miriam's proposal of internship and merely submitting papers only opens the door for more rampant corruption and duplicity.
There are at least 75 law schools that fielded candidates for the last bar exams. Of these, how many UPs or Ateneos or even San Bedas are there? How many, on the other hand, are not afraid to graduate students who are willing to pay a handsome sum for such a privilege, even though they don't deserve it? In a culture where thesis papers, and sometimes degrees, are open-market commodities, it is dangerous to leave in the hands of the schools the determination of whether or not one can be a lawyer. Corruption, even in the academe, is simply to well-entrenched to ignore.
Furthermore, as flawed as it may be, the bar is the only effective existing measure by which the Supreme Court can separate the wheat from the chaff. Take away the qualifying exam and any Tom, Dick or Harry (epsecially those willing to bribe their way through can become a lawyer. Not even the people on the streets see the point in abolishing the bar; they say it's one of the only ways for them to know just how good a lawyer is.
Personally, I vote to keep the exam but to change its format. That's about it, really.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Thanks All Around
OH, MY GOD, I MADE IT!!!
Passing the 2004 bar is easily my greatest personal triumph ever. Graduating cum laude from college and making it into UP Law suddenly seem strangely trivial in perspective. Even though I know I worked hard for the former and really got down on my knees and prayed for the latter, passing the bar results involved an intensive combination of both hard work and incessant prayer, so it just feels that much more significant.
Although thanks are certainly in order, I don't really feel like reading off an Oscar-style laundry list of people to thank, so much as give a little discourse on how very specific people played very specific roles in this brilliant achievement.
I want to thank my former officemates at Tan and Venturanza Law Offices, as well as the partners who at the time of my debacle were highly supportive of my efforts to conquer the bar once and for all. From the books some of them recommended I read to the techniques, to the scheduling, they really helped me find my way.
I am also extremely grateful for my former blockmates who dropped in on me during either the first or second weekend with some heartwarming words of encouragement. I may not have graduated with you guys (or taken my oath with you) but I love you all just the same!
Two of my close relatives, my first cousins to be exact, let me stand on their shoulders for the entire duration of my second review: my cousins Laurence and Bopeep Arroyo, who in addition to the financial support they gave without hesitation, never hesitated to offer words of encouragement, during the review and the bar, and who shared in my jubilation at my moment of triumph.
Another group whose help I could not possibly have done without my lovely wife's similarly lovely bevy of "sisters," the UP Portia sorority. For two years---two years!---they threw their support behind me, doing much the rather crucial legwork needed to get me accommodations, to ensure my application, and to make sure that, on the night before each pair of exams I had all the tips and reviewers I needed.
Penultimately, I'd like to thank Tito/Dr. Tony Guerrero, my Tita Sonia's husband and my voice of reason. It was his shock therapy/pep talk that got me off my self-pitying butt and back in the game. Passing the bar, in retrospect, is at least 50 percent attitude, and without a doubt Tito Tony's help infused me with exactly the attitude I needed to sit down and just freaking STUDY, and then to TAKE the exam and PASS it.
Finally, there are not enough words in the dictionary to describe what my loving wife, Theia, was for me in what was easily the most trying year of my life. My lover, my dearest friend, my foil, my son's nanny, my just-about-everything-you-can-think-of. Two years in a row she sacrificed her own bar bid to let me take my shot, and it was one of the bigger sacrifices she ever had to make. She took care of me in a way that I know I could never hope to duplicate as we now begin preparations for her bar exam. I will certainly try to be for her at the very least a fraction of the bastion of support that she was (and still is) for me.
Of course, thanks go out to all the well-wishers, my parents and other relatives who prayed and offered moral support, but to my mind these people really stand out in my mind and heart.
Thank you all, and God bless.
Passing the 2004 bar is easily my greatest personal triumph ever. Graduating cum laude from college and making it into UP Law suddenly seem strangely trivial in perspective. Even though I know I worked hard for the former and really got down on my knees and prayed for the latter, passing the bar results involved an intensive combination of both hard work and incessant prayer, so it just feels that much more significant.
Although thanks are certainly in order, I don't really feel like reading off an Oscar-style laundry list of people to thank, so much as give a little discourse on how very specific people played very specific roles in this brilliant achievement.
I want to thank my former officemates at Tan and Venturanza Law Offices, as well as the partners who at the time of my debacle were highly supportive of my efforts to conquer the bar once and for all. From the books some of them recommended I read to the techniques, to the scheduling, they really helped me find my way.
I am also extremely grateful for my former blockmates who dropped in on me during either the first or second weekend with some heartwarming words of encouragement. I may not have graduated with you guys (or taken my oath with you) but I love you all just the same!
Two of my close relatives, my first cousins to be exact, let me stand on their shoulders for the entire duration of my second review: my cousins Laurence and Bopeep Arroyo, who in addition to the financial support they gave without hesitation, never hesitated to offer words of encouragement, during the review and the bar, and who shared in my jubilation at my moment of triumph.
Another group whose help I could not possibly have done without my lovely wife's similarly lovely bevy of "sisters," the UP Portia sorority. For two years---two years!---they threw their support behind me, doing much the rather crucial legwork needed to get me accommodations, to ensure my application, and to make sure that, on the night before each pair of exams I had all the tips and reviewers I needed.
Penultimately, I'd like to thank Tito/Dr. Tony Guerrero, my Tita Sonia's husband and my voice of reason. It was his shock therapy/pep talk that got me off my self-pitying butt and back in the game. Passing the bar, in retrospect, is at least 50 percent attitude, and without a doubt Tito Tony's help infused me with exactly the attitude I needed to sit down and just freaking STUDY, and then to TAKE the exam and PASS it.
Finally, there are not enough words in the dictionary to describe what my loving wife, Theia, was for me in what was easily the most trying year of my life. My lover, my dearest friend, my foil, my son's nanny, my just-about-everything-you-can-think-of. Two years in a row she sacrificed her own bar bid to let me take my shot, and it was one of the bigger sacrifices she ever had to make. She took care of me in a way that I know I could never hope to duplicate as we now begin preparations for her bar exam. I will certainly try to be for her at the very least a fraction of the bastion of support that she was (and still is) for me.
Of course, thanks go out to all the well-wishers, my parents and other relatives who prayed and offered moral support, but to my mind these people really stand out in my mind and heart.
Thank you all, and God bless.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
Everybody's Pontiff
While I once devoted an entire post to my anger over the Church's staunch opposition to the use of contraceptive devices, I have to respect the passion that the late Pope John Paul II infused in his campaign against it, which was almost as passionate the way he railed against Communism. I haven't changed my mind in the least about contraceptives just because he's dead, but he was easily the biggest and most formidable adversary in the world of contraception proponents everywhere, and we must all take pause.
It is certain that blogs everywhere are chock full of reflections on the passing, and life, of Pope John Paul II. Personally, I am certain that not only Catholics, devout or otherwise, or members of the clergy have found things to say about this man and his impact on the world. I am certain that Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and members from almost all denominations of all religions have thought of something, whether not they've seen fit to post their thoughts online.
And this, I think, will forever be JPII's legacy. According to what I've read, and what I've seen in my lifetime, he was, more than any other pontiff in the history of the papacy, a pope for everyone, not just us Catholics. The way he reached out and touched as many lives as he did, whether or not these were of the Catholic faithful, is something which, I believe, no pope after him, or any religious leader, for that matter, is likely to do, at least not in this lifetime.
It is certain that blogs everywhere are chock full of reflections on the passing, and life, of Pope John Paul II. Personally, I am certain that not only Catholics, devout or otherwise, or members of the clergy have found things to say about this man and his impact on the world. I am certain that Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and members from almost all denominations of all religions have thought of something, whether not they've seen fit to post their thoughts online.
And this, I think, will forever be JPII's legacy. According to what I've read, and what I've seen in my lifetime, he was, more than any other pontiff in the history of the papacy, a pope for everyone, not just us Catholics. The way he reached out and touched as many lives as he did, whether or not these were of the Catholic faithful, is something which, I believe, no pope after him, or any religious leader, for that matter, is likely to do, at least not in this lifetime.
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