The Wily Filipino

Some Covers.

Some of you folks may have noticed the new radio.blog feature on the right-hand side; the theme for this month (or so) are covers:

1. First up: probably the song of the year, Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy," and three covers of varying quality from folks like Nelly Furtado and Ray LaMontagne. My money's on The Kooks' version, but as Bulletproof Vest would say wisely, though, "The original is still the best."

2. It's impossible to improve on perfection -- namely, the Beatles' "Here, There and Everywhere" -- but this cover by some band from Swindon called Belarus takes some interesting liberties with the melody. (Yes, the idea of Coldplay-does-the-Beatles sounds horrid on paper, but really, give a listen to the track first.) The high point of Mojo Magazine's latest freebie, a song-by-song cover album of Revolver, on the occasion of its 40th anniversary. (Though there's a cover of "Eleanor Rigby" by The Handsome Family that's darn good too.)

3. Sometimes there are songs that pop out of nowhere and you go, Where has this song been all my life? In this case, it's The Left Banke's "She May Call You Up Tonight," covered expertly by Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs. Their album of nothing but covers, Under the Covers Vol. 1, seems way too respectful and somewhat redundant (do we really need another cover of "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue?"), but one can't complain about the overall summery vibe of the fantastic harmonizing throughout the album. Unlike other cover/tribute albums that make you run to your CD collection and pull out the originals, this one works quite well.

4. I should explain this a bit: every year, Yo La Tengo, my favorite American band other than the now-defunct Guided by Voices, plays a benefit concert for the radio station WFMU -- the schtick being, YLT plays whatever song the call-in pledger wants to hear, live, with no rehearsals. Their slaughter of Billy Joel's "You May Be Right" is from their latest album, Yo La Tengo Is Murdering The Classics, and they mostly deliver on their promise.

5. I'm a total sucker for the way M.Y.M.P. strips everything down to guitar and luscious vocals, and their sweet take on the Eraserheads' "Huwag Mo Nang Itanong" -- the highlight of the otherwise disappointing tribute album, UltraElectroMagneticJam: The Music of the Eraserheads -- is just as good as the original.

It's disappointing because it's a compilation filled with bands that are essentially the E-Heads' offspring, and so most of the album basically sounds like one big karaoke fest. The lead singers' vocals aren't particularly distinctive either -- unlike, say, Sweet and Hoffs above -- since I honestly can't tell the difference between Orange and Lemons, Cueshe or Sponge Cola. (The exception was Imago's "Spoliarium," which made me appreciate the original even more.) The trick to a good cover version, I think, is to make the song temporarily your own, as do South Border ("With a Smile" gets the r&b treatment) and the Radioactive Sago Project (a spazzed-out "Alkohol"). But not the others, unfortunately: Isha blows a great opening to "Torpedo" by returning to the same E-Heads arrangement; the otherwise very good Barbie Almalbis attempts to sing in Tagalog and fails (I think that's what happened on "Overdrive," but I'm not sure); and everyone else, including, most disappointingly, Rico J. Puno, churns out different variations of blandness.

Cavite.

In Ian Ganazon and Neill dela Llana's terrific thriller, Cavite, the Filipino American filmmakers take the tired cliches of the genre and craft an exceptional film. The plot isn't anything you haven't seen before, from Cellular to Red Eye (the only one I've seen of the four) to Nick of Time to Phone Booth: a man receives a call on a cellphone from a kidnapper, telling him that his mother and sister has been kidnapped and that he has to follow all the kidnapper's demands or they die. The result is a surprisingly politically complex and gripping suspense movie, made even more interesting for its being set in the Philippines.

What Cavite will also be remembered for is the astonishing constraints under which the film was made: an overall budget of less than $7,000, cameras resold on eBay to pay for editing (which was done completely on a home computer), a practically two-man cast and crew. (Two weeks before they were to fly to the Philippines, they still couldn't find a lead actress who wanted to accompany them, so they rewrote the script so that Ganazon could play the protagonist, with dela Llana holding the camera the whole time.)

Formally, the film is a marvel in its economy -- actor, disembodied voice, circling camera -- and the narrative is structured in the classic three-act fashion. Cavite is also clearly more than just a jittery travelogue. As the taunting kidnapper orders Adam to walk through twisted alleyways, crowded markets, squatter camps, and rivers choking with festering garbage, it is clear that he (and the audience) is receiving a political education as well.

The film, however, provides little historical or economic context for the poverty that Adam witnesses, and it is presented as almost being "endemic" to the area. A later scene where the kidnapper gives him a history lesson on the gross injustices experienced by Muslim Filipinos isn't exactly germane to what Adam sees in Cavite. (We get a possible glimpse of this in two clever digressions from the taut narrative: the camera breaks away momentarily to follow a boy buying a McDonald's meal for his grandmother, but one of these scenes ingeniously happens at a point when filming may have been impossible.) But we begin to understand, at least, the process of radicalization for the Muslim kidnapper, as we find out halfway through the film that he is a member of the Abu Sayyaf (I'm not spoiling anything here, as this is telegraphed in the opening credits).

Cavite could also be read as quite intelligently following the stereotypical plot as seen in your average Pilipino Cultural Night -- confused Filipino American in search of self, "returns" to the Philippines, and discovers one's self. What further animates this thriller, and elevates it from the genre, is the interweaving of the theme of cultural discovery. (Indeed, the movie could be seen as a suspense-thriller twist on the ethnic-identity film genre, and not the other way around.) Filipino American youth -- perhaps like the filmmakers themselves -- would no doubt find familiar tropes here, tweaked and heightened: the dizzying confusion, the humidity, the shock of the misery of the Third World, the bewilderment of a half-understood foreign/native language, the balut offered up as a kind of culinary litmus test. The filmmakers make perfect use of the staring bystanders; Adam's incongruity as he trudges through Cavite City is perhaps only a little less jarring than the presence of the two filmmakers themselves.

In the end, it is significant that the action takes place in the province of Cavite, where Emilio Aguinaldo first proclaimed the independence of the Philippine Republic from Spain. The Muslims of the Philippines, however, failed to receive, and continue to do so, the benefits and rights of any form of independence, and the events in Mindanao of the last three decades certainly bear witness to this.

(What makes the film rather politically problematic, on a couple of different levels, is the decision the protagonist makes, and the way the kidnapper is portrayed. Arguably, however, the filmmakers shroud this in moral ambiguity, depending on how one interprets the opening shot. But unfortunately, any further discussion would spoil the film for you folks, so perhaps any spoilers should be mentioned -- and explicitly designated so! -- in the comments, if any of you readers have seen the film...)

End Make D Parflays Dance.

Courtesy of Boyong and the V-Monster (looks like Bryanboy beat me to the link again), comes the funniest thing I've seen all month: brand-new Pinoy internet celebrity Alyssa Alano, with her incomparable version of Sixpence None The Richer's "Kiss Me" (or rather, "Keys Me"). And hats off to the genius who supplied the brutally funny videoke subtitles. (You may need the real lyrics to figure out what she's singing.)

Watch her YouTube video here; thank me later.

p.s. On a slightly more serious note: Ian Gamazon and Neill dela Llana's Cavite is one hell of a terrific film, and if you're living in the SF Bay Area or San Diego, please do make plans to see it. I'll be posting a longer entry later, but take my word for it: it's very good. (Yes, we can talk about the politically problematic parts later.)

Dennis Lim's review for the Voice is here.

Cavite, Opening This Friday.

CAVITE

A film by Ian Gamazon and Neill dela Llana opens June 16, 2006 in the Bay Area

A Filipino-American suspense thriller

Landmark’s Lumiere Theatre - 1572 California St., San Francisco, (415) 352-0821

Showtimes (valid 6/16-22): shows Fri-Sun at 2:30 5:00 7:30 9:45; Mon-Thu at 5:00 7:30 9:45

On Fri 6/16 discussion after the 7:30pm show
moderated by Benito M. Vergara, Jr.,
of SF State University Asian American Studies

Advance ticket purchase at: www.moviefone.com

Tickets are $9.75 for general admission and $7.75 seniors and children

Landmark’s Shattuck Cinemas – 2230 Shattuck Ave, Berkeley, (510) 464-5980

Showtimes (valid 6/16-22): shows daily at 1:30 3:30 5:30 7:30 9:30

Advance ticket purchase at: www.moviefone.com

Tickets are $9.50 for general admission, $7.50 seniors and children

http://www.landmarktheatres.com

Official film site: http://www.cavitemovie.com/

Message from CAVITE filmmakers:

Dear Friends,

How often is it that a movie is released in theaters where Filipino-Americans can watch a representation of their generation up onscreen? Not often enough. Cavite opens May 26 in New York and Los Angeles and three weeks later in San Diego and San Francisco, with dates in Seattle to follow. It’s easy for us to ask all of you to come and support so we can continue our careers as filmmakers. But what we ask is so much more than that.

Cavite has been called “a landmark in diaspora cinema” and it could not be more true. It represents a journey back to our homeland that not only we, as a generation of Filipino-Americans, but audiences outside our culture have responded to as well. And it’s that idea of Cavite traveling beyond the lines of the Fil-Am boundaries that we should celebrate on this occasion. Now we have a chance to show people of all cultures and races a slice of the Filipino-American experience told in a manner that anyone, no matter what your heritage, can appreciate.

And it’s in that thought that we urge you and your friends to come see Cavite. It will thrill and it will educate, it will present a side of a spectacular world rarely seen in cinema today. But most of all, if people see this movie on the weekend of its release -- and let’s not kid ourselves, attendance will be key -- it will allow all of us as filmmakers or storytellers to make more films that our generation, and future generations can be proud of.

In conclusion, what we ask for is a celebration -- a celebration of a movie born out of a desire to represent who we are and what we can do. So let’s rejoice, go see the movie, tell anyone that will listen, and not wait another minute to watch a representation of Filipino-American filmmaking up onscreen.

Sincerely,

Ian Gamazon/ Neill dela Llana

co-directors, CAVITE

The San Francisco Chronicle calls the Filipino-American suspense story an “exploration of identity…what it means to be a Filipino, an American and a Muslim.” Read the full article on: http://www.sfgate.com

“CAVITE ingeniously turns a Hollywood action movie premise into a report on the Philippines and the social and religious divisions that continue to roil the country. Directors Gamazon and Dela Llana get into locations not seen in the West since Lino Brocka’s provocative, politicized films of the 70’s and 80’s….Among the most striking American independent movies of the year.” –The New York Times

“CAVITE is a brilliantly resourceful film with sensational camerawork…A landmark in diaspora cinema.” –The Village Voice

“An intimate political thriller that’s fresh and compelling to the end.” --Los Angeles Times

“CAVITE is a breathless, jugular thriller” –LA Weekly

“A must see!” –Justin Wu, Asianweek

AWARDS:

Someone to Watch Award, Independent Spirit Awards 2006

SXSW (South by Southwest), Special Jury Prize 2005

SFIAAFF (San Francisco International Asian American Film Festival) Special Jury Award 2005

Golden Maille Award, Best Picture, Hawaii International Film Festival 2005

Maverick Award, Woodstock Film Festival 2005

Jacket Photograph By.

Today at Borders I finally held this book in my hands -- the cover of which is this same photograph right here.

Wow. I have an actual "Jacket photograph by" credit. Is that cool or what?

That Discussion on Skin Whiteners.

In an attempt to jumpstart a discussion I started but never got to participate in, I'm reposting the responses to a former post. I am not entirely sure that pursuing the origins of ideas regarding the aesthetic valuation of skin color in the Philippines would lead to a definitive answer; as in the present, the "explanation" would surely have to be a combination of both class and the globalized spread of Western ideals of beauty. But I am also intrigued by Iggy's answer, also below, that raises a particularly Asian aesthetic. (The long line of beauty queens profiled in Doris Nuyda's The Beauty Book, so sadly out of print, begins mostly with moneyed Spanish mestizas -- more an indication, really, of the high regard in which beauty pageants were originally placed -- and it is not until you get to the late '60s or so that skin color becomes darker.)

Here are the earlier responses:

Ed writes:

I'm Filipino and I'm aware of this practice, as many women on my family subscribe to it. I personally think it's silly.

But I guess the first question to tackle would be whether the "light skin" ideal is an imitation of the Western/Caucasoid image, or is it a separate status indicator?

Light skin used to be a coveted social emblem back around during American colonial times too, as evidenced by how Ben Franklin powdered himself silly. Apparently it symbolized wealth, for the same reasons as mentioned in that linked IHT article - rich people didn't have to work in the sun.

But now there's a reversal of that ideal; the current craze among the West is to get that killer tan. So it's said that a tanned skin represents a "well-traveled" person, who can afford to sail the Bahamas barebacked.

There's an entry in wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Physical_attractiveness#Skin_color

And so to reiterate the question, is Asian people's valuation of light skin a reflection of their desire to imitate the Westerner's phenotype, or is it simply as the article puts it, that it is a status/wealth symbol?

O.P. writes, in response to the initial entry:

This is disturbing. Yet we do know that light skin colour is also associated with high status in Thailand, which does not have a colonial past, and therefore no colonial mentality to blame for this phenomenon.

My own experience as a Filipina has been the opposite of the Eskinol thing. I'm relatively dark compared to some of my cousins, who appear to have inherited more of the Germanic genes of a shared ancestor (our maternal grandfather). They had light brown hair, almost blond to a Pinoy's eyes, and of course lighter skin than most Filipinos. My poor cousins tried in vain to tan so they could "look normal," but despite tons of Coppertone tanning oil, even baby oil, they would only burn and turn reddish and I hope they don't have to deal with melanoma one day. One female cousin started dying her hair black once she started college in Cebu.

On the whole, despite some teasing from classmates about how "dark" I was (from being at the beach all summer), I grew up thinking that brown was beautiful, and thinking that my cousins who looked the most "native" were the most beautiful. Still do. So, I guess it's in the eye of the beholder.

And Ed responds at length to O.P.:

Hmmm, yea, that's a real good point. As confirmed by wikipedia, Thailand was never colonized, and so suggests that the social effect isn't so strongly correlated with colonization: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thailand#History

The Thailand case works against the effect of -direct- colonization, as Thailand is a subscriber of the 'whitening practice', but was never colonized under a European country (although that doesn't exclude interaction through trade).

But the original question's dichotomy is still in play. That is, selection for 'whiteness' stems from either:
1. global valuation of the Caucosoid phenotype, or
2.that 'skin hue' is a mere indicator of wealth.

Although, the Thailand argument excludes rule of colonization as a root cause for the 'international valuation' effect (#1). But I would also posit that adopting the values of another culture doesn't have to follow from colonization.

If #1 is the case, is that a product of history? Pardon a second dichotomy, but is it because of:
1a. a wipespread dissemination of Western values of beauty or is it that
1b. the European phenotype is the universal ideal for beauty?

I know not a lot of people would be willing to accept #1b, but it is still a viable explanation. I myself have reservations to this.

And in order to accept #1a, proof of concept demands that there be some reasons for introducing yet another factor in the effect. So I would propose that history has a hand in it, colonization and industrialization being its vehicle. Again, I don't think value adoption had to follow from direct rule (as in the case of Thailand), and so even Thai people can value the Causian image from mere association with adjacent colonized countries, for example.

As for industrialization, MTV bears to mind. Therefore western values disperse even more efficiently, as developing countries are consumed by vogue western fashions and images through the tv.

--------------------

That's interesting, o.p., what you relate about the opposite valuation of the Malay beauty. I didn't have that experience when I was living in the PI 14 years ago, nor is it collectively true here in the US among Filipino-Americans.

After all, many Filipina-Americans (Filipino-Americans even) dye their hair blonde, as well as buy those whitening soaps/creams (not the males, to my observation). And as I recall, in the Philippines there were a lot of derrogatory terms reserved for denigrating the Malay image: Pango, Ita, Itim, Pandak, etc. True, there is variation among the Malay/Filipino phenotype (due to normal distribution and genetic intermixing with other countries), but these rough 'characteristics' are nonetheless unique to the regional genepool of Southeast Asia, and therefore define it.

I wanted to add as a reply to o.p.'s post,

I believe it's true that beauty is in the eye of the individual. But I also believe that beauty is also defined by cultural standards, a collective beholder, if you will.

And so when 4 out of every 10 people in a culture actively take part in a fashion (ie skin whitening), it says to me that there is a definite group of people that agree to a certain criteria of beauty. And when that criteria is contrary to what the ancestral phenotype is, it becomes somewhat of a curiosity as to why?

And Rebecca responds to the initial entry:

Does this "beauty" standard really not affect Filipino men?

My husband started a job two years ago where he is out in the sun every day, turning his pale brown complexion very, very dark. His mother's first reaction was to make fun of him for it (and she still does). I'm not fluent but what I did understand was pejorative at best. She even pulled his shirt up to see what color he was born.

He has since refused to wear shorts or short sleeved shirts to work for fear of telling tan lines. And he's been honest about it being almost purely out of vanity.

And here's O.P. again:

Relating the story of my personal experience regarding valuing the more "normal" Filipino skin hue, I tried to convey the view from the "other" side of that divide.

I agree that lighter skin IS a status symbol back home, and I did not do well against that standard, mainly because my mom envied our ability to tan and therefore encouraged us to be in the sun and slathered lots of tanning oil so we could be nice and brown like our dad (who is very dark). As a teenager I tried to even out my acne-prone skin using a whitener and was lectured to within an inch of my life for it.

However, those that have MUCH lighter skin (i.e., looking more like white people than like light-skinned Filipinos) don't necessarily fare better and have insecurities of their own, as they are also judged (or judge themselves) against the native standard.

One of my school friends -- whose parents were Canadian and pure Spanish, and therefore she was really a white girl born and raised in Manila -- was teased mercilessly by my other classmates as an "Amerikanang Hilaw." If white makes right in terms of beauty standards, one would think she could have been the most popular sought-after girl in the whole school. But she was put down for being unattractive and "too" white, and became the poster-girl for low self-esteem.

As for me, I grew up thinking I was too dark, because my mom liked to see us with deep tans, maybe so we would look more like my father (who is very dark). I felt fine around my relatives, because they didn't seem to care, but around other Filipinos it was a different story. I had been called negra a few times even.

It wasn't until I arrived in the US that I heard anyone compliment me on my nice colour. And it wasn't until later, spending lots of time indoors in winter climates and libraries and at a desk, that I lost my tan and found out I am actually rather light-skinned. It was weird at first -- even some of my relatives who hadn't seen me in years thought I had gotten some kind of cosmetic procedure, because I had always been very dark as a child.

-----------------------
As for looking at it from an academic perspective... I remember reading an article about fairness of skin and what that means for attractiveness in Japan -- don't remember what journal it was in. But the gist of it was that there is a particular kind of lightness of skin that is considered attractive -- the mere fact of "whiteness" is not it, because Western women are not considered attractive.

From what I recall of accounts of the first Spanish voyages to the Philippines, they noted how the higher-status Visayan women were lighter skinned than the rest, shielding their faces from the sun or something. I've also seen first-hand in some Lumad communities how the women who shield their faces from the sun and achieve a nice, even glowing complexion (as opposed to sun-ravaged), which not surprisingly is a mark of beauty.

So, it's not just a simple dichotomy or the belated application of Western standards. Globalization is not necessary to blame.

Iggy joins the discussion from a different angle:

In my personal experience, I guess what Asians strive for is the kind of fairness that is more "Asian" and familiar rather than "Caucasian" - think the skin color of Koreans, Japanese, and Chinese. I remember back in high school where there was a French guy and a Jewish girl who went to my school and were mercilessly teased for being too pale. It's funny, because the people doing the teasing were the same ones who praised a Chinoy girl for her milky, even skin. I guess "real" Caucasian fairness - complete with the blonde eyelashes and pinkish undereye circles - is almost too 'alien' for an Asian to aspire to. I don't know, just adding my two cents.

And Ed responds to everyone:

Rebecca,

Yes, I do believe that Filipino men are affected by the beauty standard. I mentioned that hair bleaching (blonde) is a popular practice here in the States among Filipino-American boys, at least here where I lived thorughout high school. But the linked article's focus (on wily's blog) was on female consumption of skin lightening products, and so my response was also focused on that demographic accordingly.

-----------------
O.P. & Iggy,

Yes! I found an article called 'Cultivating Japanese whiteness' by Mikiko Ashikari (University of Cambridge) published in the Journal of Material Cutlure asserting that 'Japanese whiteness' is actually idealized from Japanese whiteness - which is of a different hue from 'Caucasian whiteness'. I think this is close to what you're talking about, Iggy. She says that the Japanese white skin is actually a means by which the Japanese now identify and racialize themselves; contrary to idealizing the Western image. If anyone is having a hard time finding it and wants a copy, feel free to email me, and I'll email you one.

But this still leaves the question, for what reason do Filipinos (Thais, Malaysians, etc.) use whitening products? It cant be that they identify with it (like the Japanese), because the simple fact is that 'whiteness' is not part of their genetic heritage.

O.P., I acknowledge your case when you say that the opposite phenomenon occurs, as in your anecdote with your Western school friends. That wikipedia article mentions the ganguro of Japan, which serves as a parallel example: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Physical_attractiveness#Skin_color

But again, a sizable Southeast Asian majority use skin whiteners to imitate an image that isn't granted to them by genetics. You said that 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder', so the interesting question that comes up is: why does the Filipino behold 'whiteness' as beautiful, when the majority of our ethnic composition is Malay, a dark-skinned people?

For the Japanese it is a way for them to express their Japanese ethnicity. But for us, isn't it being anti-Filipino?

Pronounced Zhee-zhek.

For Dan, who wanted to see what a post like this might look like:

Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek Zizek

And Many Thanks.

To my colleagues and, most especially, the students, for the chalkings, the petitions, the webpages, the armbands, the flyers, the placards, the chants, the rally, and all your words, by which I have been truly lifted. Thank you.

A Big No Thanks.

To my landlord, who was unreachable for three nights while Izzy and I lived with an actual, smellable gas leak from the pipes in the garage next to my illegal in-law apartment. This is currently the tenth consecutive day, slowly sliding into the eleventh, that I have been without gas or hot water, and apparently PG&E hasn't called him back, or the plumber hasn't called him back, or the other plumber can't make it on a particular day, or yet another plumber with the special equipment couldn't finish the job in a day, and my call to the landlord earlier this evening was unanswered...

Add to this the fact that he is selling the building, and I have had to suffer the indignity of four open home showings, and random strangers wandering in from the street walking through my living room while Izzy tries to watch TV. The worst was the other night, when a family of like, eight, were tramping through my bedroom at 8:30 at night while I was trying to grade.

I am a little worried about the fact that the upstairs unit is vacant and the other upper unit will be vacant in 30 days, which will mean that I'll be the only tenant left in the entire house. I do know how owner move-in evictions work in San Francisco, but I do not have the money or time or energy to move right now (which I'm sure he would like, since it's easier to sell the place empty).