I am an attorney-at-law. I've been one since May 3, 2005, when I signed the roll of attorneys. At the Supreme Court, where I work, I am regularly referred to as 'attorney' by my everyone except my fellow lawyers.
And yet, as my wife's bar exams enter their second week, I find myself feeling, oddly enough, like half a lawyer. Truly, this is a strange, strange side effect of my having been married for four years. Just as my wife shared in my moment of triumph earlier this year, so am I sharing in her agony these four weekends of September.
The funny part is that, going into last Sunday, I was about ten times more nervous than she was about taking the bar. It was as if I was being nervous enough for the both of us (and then some). Later in the day, while she was busy taking the second exam, I got ahold of the questions for the morning exam, Political Law. Going over the first few questions, I went pale, thinking: my God, I wouldn't have been able to answer these if it had been me taking the exam. I then felt relief when the questions got progressively easier.
I've heard of sympathetic pregnancies, but boy this is really nerve-wracking...
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Bar Blues
It was this time a year ago that I was gearing up to take a second swing at the Philippine bar examinations. I'm a lawyer now, but the anxiety is still there, albeit in a (slightly) diminished form given that my wife is now up to bat. I guess being married for four years creates the ability to feel sympathetic tension in more ways than one, particularly since this is a matter I have firsthand experience with.
There's so much going on in her head and in mine right now. I'm smarting a little from the fact that the Supreme Court, where I work, has denied my request to serve as one of the supervisors during the bar exams. An understandable decision, given that my wife's taking the exam, but it doesn't make me feel any better about not getting the additional money the gig would have brought.
Guided by a prepare-for-the-worst mindset, Theia and I are currently hatching a financial plan that has us saving up for her second shot at the bar before the ink on her last booklet of the first one has even dried. Excessive? Possibly. But experience is a brutal teacher, one whose lessons tend to linger longer than most.
Theia has a lot going against her in her bar campaign; a lot more than I did during either of my attempts. She has had to nurse a newborn baby. It doesn't help that we've had one yaya crisis after another, unlike when I was taking the exams. Back then our household help averaged at least eight months. From my experience, though, I know that doesn't count her out by a long shot. A great deal of the bar is preparation, but there's so much else that goes into passing it that simply cannot be underestimated.
Anyway, I pray for my wife. I pray for my family, which will be directly affected by the outcome, good or bad, of this exam. i pray for my children, one of whom we hope to send to school next year.
Is this a post or a prayer? Maybe a little of both. God is everywhere, after all, why can't he be online as well?
There's so much going on in her head and in mine right now. I'm smarting a little from the fact that the Supreme Court, where I work, has denied my request to serve as one of the supervisors during the bar exams. An understandable decision, given that my wife's taking the exam, but it doesn't make me feel any better about not getting the additional money the gig would have brought.
Guided by a prepare-for-the-worst mindset, Theia and I are currently hatching a financial plan that has us saving up for her second shot at the bar before the ink on her last booklet of the first one has even dried. Excessive? Possibly. But experience is a brutal teacher, one whose lessons tend to linger longer than most.
Theia has a lot going against her in her bar campaign; a lot more than I did during either of my attempts. She has had to nurse a newborn baby. It doesn't help that we've had one yaya crisis after another, unlike when I was taking the exams. Back then our household help averaged at least eight months. From my experience, though, I know that doesn't count her out by a long shot. A great deal of the bar is preparation, but there's so much else that goes into passing it that simply cannot be underestimated.
Anyway, I pray for my wife. I pray for my family, which will be directly affected by the outcome, good or bad, of this exam. i pray for my children, one of whom we hope to send to school next year.
Is this a post or a prayer? Maybe a little of both. God is everywhere, after all, why can't he be online as well?
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
On Self-Loathing
Lately I've found myself perturbed by the increasing aggressiveness with which peddlers of skin-whitening products push their ware. For the benefit of anyone fortunate enough not to have seen any of this latest wave of commercials, the campaign consists of ads where the previously dark users of the product become so fair-skinned that even their good friends fail to recognize them. Print ads from the same company which appear semi-regularly in the pages of Inquirer Libre discuss the virtues of having white skin, going to far as to suggest that it improves one's chances of getting a job!
These ads make me sick.
I think it's safe to say that nowhere is our national self-loathing more evident than in the way our women try to alter the color of their skin. I know a lot of educated women don't fall for the garbage being peddled to them every time their favorite shows cut to commercial, but that there are those that still do really floors me.
There are so many dermatoligical products to sell that, while not necessarily helpful to one's self-esteem, at least have the decency to keep from eroding one's national pride. Products to remove pimples, old scars and all kinds of skin imperfections make fairly good sense, as do those that make skin "softer and smoother" as the tagline often goes, and I'm sure they could make the drug companies a lot of money.
It depresses me, though, that the product they seem to market most assiduously is their skin whitening cream, or soap, or whatever it is.
My wife is brown-skinned and beautiful for it, and though I wouldn't have it any other way, apparently she grew up thinking that her fair-skinned elder sister is better looking than she is, and that white skin is in and of itself a component of beauty. I still roll my eyes at the thought of it. It's funny how she only seems to really appreciate the beauty of her skin color only now.
I honestly don't have anything against fair-skinned girls; I went out with a few and even carried a torch for one for a long time (though it had nothing to do with her complexion), but I feel deeply perturbed by people who slavishly use products to alter their natural skin chemistry just to change the way they were at birth.
It's like every woman who does this to herself is a MICHAEL JACKSON of sorts.
These ads make me sick.
I think it's safe to say that nowhere is our national self-loathing more evident than in the way our women try to alter the color of their skin. I know a lot of educated women don't fall for the garbage being peddled to them every time their favorite shows cut to commercial, but that there are those that still do really floors me.
There are so many dermatoligical products to sell that, while not necessarily helpful to one's self-esteem, at least have the decency to keep from eroding one's national pride. Products to remove pimples, old scars and all kinds of skin imperfections make fairly good sense, as do those that make skin "softer and smoother" as the tagline often goes, and I'm sure they could make the drug companies a lot of money.
It depresses me, though, that the product they seem to market most assiduously is their skin whitening cream, or soap, or whatever it is.
My wife is brown-skinned and beautiful for it, and though I wouldn't have it any other way, apparently she grew up thinking that her fair-skinned elder sister is better looking than she is, and that white skin is in and of itself a component of beauty. I still roll my eyes at the thought of it. It's funny how she only seems to really appreciate the beauty of her skin color only now.
I honestly don't have anything against fair-skinned girls; I went out with a few and even carried a torch for one for a long time (though it had nothing to do with her complexion), but I feel deeply perturbed by people who slavishly use products to alter their natural skin chemistry just to change the way they were at birth.
It's like every woman who does this to herself is a MICHAEL JACKSON of sorts.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
The Power of the Smile
It's really a pity I didn't know about the existence of weblogs three years ago: I would have almost certainly started a journal chronicling the growth of my son, who is now three. I wouldn't necessarily have given a blow-by-blow account of his development, but I certainly would have etched into cyberspace the little vignettes that I have often shared with friends and family at the occasional gathering.
Now that I've been blogging for a little under a year now, I think it would be criminal for me to not write so much as a few paragraphs on the joy of having a baby in the house all over again.
Don't get me wrong: being father to a toddler is still as exhilarating as it can be exasperating. I often swell with pride when other parents express amazement at how articulate little Raphael has turned out to be. I've made it one of my goals to acquiant him with the alphabet, and so far I think we're making good headway. He's got letters A to O down pat, with X and S thrown in for good measure.
But there's something about my youngest, baby Tala, that just drew me to this keyboard: her smile.
At barely two months, this kid has become extremely generous with her mirth. When Apel was that age he smiled too, but catching sight of one was something of a feat. He didn't exactly do it on request.
I don't know if it's the formula I've put this one on, but she seems to smile whenever someone enters the room. It's the most amazing thing, and in this troubled time, one of the best things to look forward to on any given day. It's things like this that make me truly cherish fatherhood.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and see if I can get some more of that little sunshine in a bottle. For anyone with kids, enjoy this little aspect of parenthood because it's absolutely free, and will make you realize that whatever struggles you might have to endure to make ends meet for your families...it's worth it.
Now that I've been blogging for a little under a year now, I think it would be criminal for me to not write so much as a few paragraphs on the joy of having a baby in the house all over again.
Don't get me wrong: being father to a toddler is still as exhilarating as it can be exasperating. I often swell with pride when other parents express amazement at how articulate little Raphael has turned out to be. I've made it one of my goals to acquiant him with the alphabet, and so far I think we're making good headway. He's got letters A to O down pat, with X and S thrown in for good measure.
But there's something about my youngest, baby Tala, that just drew me to this keyboard: her smile.
At barely two months, this kid has become extremely generous with her mirth. When Apel was that age he smiled too, but catching sight of one was something of a feat. He didn't exactly do it on request.
I don't know if it's the formula I've put this one on, but she seems to smile whenever someone enters the room. It's the most amazing thing, and in this troubled time, one of the best things to look forward to on any given day. It's things like this that make me truly cherish fatherhood.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and see if I can get some more of that little sunshine in a bottle. For anyone with kids, enjoy this little aspect of parenthood because it's absolutely free, and will make you realize that whatever struggles you might have to endure to make ends meet for your families...it's worth it.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Nothing Like a Political Crisis to Bring Out the Writer...
The current political circus has had me reading the papers a lot. I generally don't waste time with the front page any more, because all of the posturing by the parties concerned (on both sides) is usually more irritation than it's worth. I don't seek refuge in the traditional men's corner (namely the comics and the sports page). What really grabs my attention these days is the editorial pages.
In particular, I've taken a liking to the musings of one of Philippine journalism's oldest living veterans, Philippine Star publisher Max Soliven. I used to read Teddy Benigno, too, and really felt bad about his passing, which left a void I don't think has really been filled. I also like to read Amado Doronilla of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, whose career as a journalist has proven similarly durable, but his dour, serious style contrasts rather sharply with Soliven's wonderfully sardonic undertones.
It's a funny thing about Soliven: I used to hate that guy's columns, because it seemed that for the longest time, all he could talk about were his freaking trips abroad. I lost interest after the second or third time I read about one of his jaunts to Europe.
But if there's one good thing all this brouhaha about the administration has brought about, it's the fact that Soliven is writing again, and I mean really giving his two cents' worth on all the shit that keeps hitting the fan day in and day out. His writing is intelligent and funny, and I love that from the tone of his writing, he simply cannot be branded as partisan to either side.
Other writers, like Conrado de Quiros of the Inquirer, or Emil Jurado of the Standard Today, tend to foam at the mouth when they discuss politics, so charged up with their convictions that their columns feel less like opinion pieces and more like diatribes.
Soliven's column is by comparison so much more sober and a lot like the writings of another pillar of Philippine society: Senator Jovito Salonga. These guys don't wear out on their sleeves whether they're for or against GMA, or Erap, or whoever's hogging the front pages. They just call things like they see them, give their own take on where things are going, and sit back and enjoy the ride. Between the two of them, they've seen times that are way worse than these, and yet you don't see the veins sticking out of their necks as they scream their indignation at one faction or another.
At this time, we need people like Max Soliven and Senator Salonga. Sober. Contemplative. These guys are the true patriots, not the shrieking zealots and certainly not the wolves in Congressmen's clothing.
In particular, I've taken a liking to the musings of one of Philippine journalism's oldest living veterans, Philippine Star publisher Max Soliven. I used to read Teddy Benigno, too, and really felt bad about his passing, which left a void I don't think has really been filled. I also like to read Amado Doronilla of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, whose career as a journalist has proven similarly durable, but his dour, serious style contrasts rather sharply with Soliven's wonderfully sardonic undertones.
It's a funny thing about Soliven: I used to hate that guy's columns, because it seemed that for the longest time, all he could talk about were his freaking trips abroad. I lost interest after the second or third time I read about one of his jaunts to Europe.
But if there's one good thing all this brouhaha about the administration has brought about, it's the fact that Soliven is writing again, and I mean really giving his two cents' worth on all the shit that keeps hitting the fan day in and day out. His writing is intelligent and funny, and I love that from the tone of his writing, he simply cannot be branded as partisan to either side.
Other writers, like Conrado de Quiros of the Inquirer, or Emil Jurado of the Standard Today, tend to foam at the mouth when they discuss politics, so charged up with their convictions that their columns feel less like opinion pieces and more like diatribes.
Soliven's column is by comparison so much more sober and a lot like the writings of another pillar of Philippine society: Senator Jovito Salonga. These guys don't wear out on their sleeves whether they're for or against GMA, or Erap, or whoever's hogging the front pages. They just call things like they see them, give their own take on where things are going, and sit back and enjoy the ride. Between the two of them, they've seen times that are way worse than these, and yet you don't see the veins sticking out of their necks as they scream their indignation at one faction or another.
At this time, we need people like Max Soliven and Senator Salonga. Sober. Contemplative. These guys are the true patriots, not the shrieking zealots and certainly not the wolves in Congressmen's clothing.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Sequelitis
Apparently, every year since 1985, some groups have tracked how much money movies gross in the United States. The figures grow inevitably, mostly due to inflation, but sometimes due to genuine improvement in attendance.
This year, for twenty straight weekends in a row, the collective grosses of movies in the U.S. (most of them Hollywood products) have been less than they were at the same time last year. As of now the grosses are running something like seven or eight percent behind.
In my honest opinion, what's doing Hollywood in is sequels, and movies created with sequels in mind. I know this is an old, old song, but apparently nobody's listening, so I'm going to sing it again, once more, with feeling.
The good news is, the Star Wars franchise, at least as far as the big screen is concerned, is at an end. It's nice when a film series is finite, like the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, the Star Wars movies, or even the Harry Potter films. This way they don't run the risk of rehashing ideas for the next installment because each film serves as a piece of an already fixed puzzle. Even Sony has taken the hint and announced that there will only be six Spider-Man movies, a promise I sincerely hope they keep, because this will clear the marketplace for newer, fresher ideas.
The bad news is that some franchises have been revived, and others have gotten off on the wrong foot. Yes, I know Batman Begins was a good movie, but by resurrecting a franchise Warner Brothers has set a dangerous precedent for series that have died natural deaths. More on this later.
Fantastic Four's success is, to me, a recipe for disaster. Given that they were able to muscle in on the box office with a half-assed script, half-assed direction, and half-assed casting, the dunderheads at Fox and Marvel films might think they can pull it off again. I cringe at the thought of them starting principal photography on the sequel sometime next year. THERE ISN'T EVEN A SCRIPT YET!!! Well, if we're lucky, the sequel will tank and nip the franchise in the bud. Or...the next film could be better...yeah, right. (Well, there was X2...)
Not to mention that a whole bunch of other franchises are now waiting in the wings, like Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Madagascar, and the Wedding Crashers.
I know studios are about the bottom line, and that sequels have been around almost as long as movies have because they've proven time and again to make money, but nobody can deny how much they are killing creativity. Studios that have franchises should just make X number of films and content themselves with DVD and pay-per-view figures in the years afterwards rather than bleeding a franchise dry, letting it lie fallow and then bleeding it dry again, and so on and so forth. Make room for other kinds of movies, people!
While I have to say I'm intrigued about the new Superman movie, I still feel pissed off at Warner Brothers' gambit to resurrect the franchise. Why? Because unlike the Batman series, which was going along quite well at the box-office until Joel Schumacher's gayness ruined the fourth movie, the Superman series died a natural death, meaning that it simply succumbed to the law of diminishing returns. Superman III made a little over half of what II did, and IV made the merest fraction. Another franchise that suffered that fate was Planet of the Apes which had something like five sequels before it went dead, only to be "re-imagined" by Tim Burton in the 2001 debacle. Burton's film flopped because he faced the monumental task of resurrecting something people had lost interest in more than twenty years earlier. Bryan Singer faces a similar challenge. One can only wonder if he's up to it.
I miss the days when the top movies were one-shot deals like Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks is a guy who never seems to care much for sequels, and yet majority of his films in the last ten years have been bigger hits than a great many franchises. Saving Private Ryan is a wonderful film that will stand the test of time and will have the distinction of having been made purely for the love of filmmaking. The same can be said of Catch Me If You Can and Apollo 13. He doesn't have a monopoly on good movies that don't obsess over the grosses of potential sequels. Remember how, in 1999, an inherently sequel-less film, The Sixth Sense, went on to become the second highest grossing of the year and an Oscar Best Picture nominee? Stand-alone movies, or finite franchises, are good for the industry. Franchises that go on and on are not.
This year, for twenty straight weekends in a row, the collective grosses of movies in the U.S. (most of them Hollywood products) have been less than they were at the same time last year. As of now the grosses are running something like seven or eight percent behind.
In my honest opinion, what's doing Hollywood in is sequels, and movies created with sequels in mind. I know this is an old, old song, but apparently nobody's listening, so I'm going to sing it again, once more, with feeling.
The good news is, the Star Wars franchise, at least as far as the big screen is concerned, is at an end. It's nice when a film series is finite, like the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, the Star Wars movies, or even the Harry Potter films. This way they don't run the risk of rehashing ideas for the next installment because each film serves as a piece of an already fixed puzzle. Even Sony has taken the hint and announced that there will only be six Spider-Man movies, a promise I sincerely hope they keep, because this will clear the marketplace for newer, fresher ideas.
The bad news is that some franchises have been revived, and others have gotten off on the wrong foot. Yes, I know Batman Begins was a good movie, but by resurrecting a franchise Warner Brothers has set a dangerous precedent for series that have died natural deaths. More on this later.
Fantastic Four's success is, to me, a recipe for disaster. Given that they were able to muscle in on the box office with a half-assed script, half-assed direction, and half-assed casting, the dunderheads at Fox and Marvel films might think they can pull it off again. I cringe at the thought of them starting principal photography on the sequel sometime next year. THERE ISN'T EVEN A SCRIPT YET!!! Well, if we're lucky, the sequel will tank and nip the franchise in the bud. Or...the next film could be better...yeah, right. (Well, there was X2...)
Not to mention that a whole bunch of other franchises are now waiting in the wings, like Mr. and Mrs. Smith, Madagascar, and the Wedding Crashers.
I know studios are about the bottom line, and that sequels have been around almost as long as movies have because they've proven time and again to make money, but nobody can deny how much they are killing creativity. Studios that have franchises should just make X number of films and content themselves with DVD and pay-per-view figures in the years afterwards rather than bleeding a franchise dry, letting it lie fallow and then bleeding it dry again, and so on and so forth. Make room for other kinds of movies, people!
While I have to say I'm intrigued about the new Superman movie, I still feel pissed off at Warner Brothers' gambit to resurrect the franchise. Why? Because unlike the Batman series, which was going along quite well at the box-office until Joel Schumacher's gayness ruined the fourth movie, the Superman series died a natural death, meaning that it simply succumbed to the law of diminishing returns. Superman III made a little over half of what II did, and IV made the merest fraction. Another franchise that suffered that fate was Planet of the Apes which had something like five sequels before it went dead, only to be "re-imagined" by Tim Burton in the 2001 debacle. Burton's film flopped because he faced the monumental task of resurrecting something people had lost interest in more than twenty years earlier. Bryan Singer faces a similar challenge. One can only wonder if he's up to it.
I miss the days when the top movies were one-shot deals like Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks is a guy who never seems to care much for sequels, and yet majority of his films in the last ten years have been bigger hits than a great many franchises. Saving Private Ryan is a wonderful film that will stand the test of time and will have the distinction of having been made purely for the love of filmmaking. The same can be said of Catch Me If You Can and Apollo 13. He doesn't have a monopoly on good movies that don't obsess over the grosses of potential sequels. Remember how, in 1999, an inherently sequel-less film, The Sixth Sense, went on to become the second highest grossing of the year and an Oscar Best Picture nominee? Stand-alone movies, or finite franchises, are good for the industry. Franchises that go on and on are not.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Late Comics: Postscript
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.
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.
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.
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