Insults October 25, 2006
I CAUGHT snatches of "Philippine Idol" on the television channel ABC 5 last weekend, and I was astonished far less by the performances, though some of them were quite impressive (this country is truly a bottomless well for musical talent), but by the comments of the judges. The feedback that they had been too charitable in the past seemed to have bit, and they decided to turn in a new leaf -- of the more poisonous sort. To a man, and woman (Ryan Cayabyab, Pilita Corrales, Wency Cornejo), they lookeddetermined to act the new part.
Cayabyab more than the others. His comments were rich, or wickedly delicious. He told one contestant (or words to this effect -- I'm quoting from memory): "Your voice has never been your greatest asset. You've always paled in comparison to the others. Over the past weeks, you've only proven that more and more: You've gone from bad to worse. Your journey with 'Philippine Idol' should have ended much earlier."
It wasn't quite Simon Cowell in venomous relish, but it caught a bit of the spirit. Since then, I've heard the same tack in other musical programs with a similar format, judges or (musical school) headmasters trying to put contestants away, or down, with acerbic wit. Sometimes it comes off with aplomb. Most of the time, it sounds just a little cruel.
A word of advice to those planning to embark on the enterprise: It takes wit to carry off something like that. Without the wit, which is what makes it palatable despite the toxicity, all it leaves is a bad taste in the mouth. Cowell does have wit. Savageness alone doesn't quite hack it, or all it does is hack savagely. Savage wit is what does the trick. Insult is an art, which rises to magnificence with people like Oscar Wilde. It doesn't quite do to say that America hasn't entirely transcended its wilderness stage. Much better Wilde's "America is the only country that went from barbarism to decencies without civilization in between."
I do know another Simon who far surpasses Cowell in venom but who is a joy to listen to, or read. He was theater and movie critic John Simon who turned insult to a darkly lofty craft. A sample of his wit or cruelty: "(Barbra Streisand) a horse face centering on a nose that looks like Brancusi's Rooster cast in liverwurst." "Miss (Judy) Garland's figureresembles the giant-economy size tube of toothpaste in girls' bathrooms. Squeezed intemperately at all points, it acquires a shape that defies definition by the most resourceful solid geometrician." "Roger Daltrey (in 'Lisztomania') performed with a face as long as a mule and a talent considerably shorter."
The humor, of course, comes at somebody's expense, but what the hell, it's bloody hilarious.
Indeed, where the putdown is done verbally, it takes flair to carry it off. Cayabyab doesn't do badly in that department. I must confess I was taken aback by what he said about the contestant (I didn't expect something like that from a local show), but I must confess as well that I found myself exulting after my initial surprise. No point in filing up people with false hopes, particularly aspiring singers or musicians in a country crawling with talent. Who knows? Maybe it's good to challenge them that way because they can always prove the judgment wrong. If I recall right, Albert Einstein's teacher said he'd never get very far in the sciences because he wasn't very good at math. Boy, did he show him some numbers (and letters) -- e=mc² -- that spun this planet off its axis. You never know if a contestant might be moved enough in this way to move heaven and earth to prove he or she has a claim, if not a birthright, to stardom.
But to go back to what I was saying, Cayabyab didn't come across as crabby at all. He's the type who can say, "Don't give up your day job," without sounding offensive. The one who used to have flair, too, or even savoir faire, and could hold his own with the best of them was Edu Manzano. I really think he should go back and devote his energies to fighting boredom rather than fighting "pirates," but that's another story. In his case though, particularly as host of "The Weakest Link," the putdown was a ritual of sorts. All the guests knew they were up for some barb about their apparent ignorance and were up to it. But Manzano still did it breezily, turning his peculiar way of saying "Goodbye," done with outsized, self-mocking, curtness, into quite literally a household word.
The local term is "taray," but it doesn't quite capture the soul of it. I've seen and heard a lot of taray in reel and real life, and I can't say I find any redeeming virtue in much of it. It is neither witty nor wise. Nor is it kind to the ears, the taray invariably being delivered with a shrillness defying forbearance. It just makes you want to believe that God periodically sends boils, plagues and people like that your way to remind you, like Job, that life is pain.
The wittily crafted putdown, or death sentence -- which is how it comes across from judges of contests in particular, who are not unlike judges of Death Row cases -- is not like that at all. It leaves the audience at least, if not the subject of the barb, in a state of pleasurable amusement. A guilty pleasure no doubt, and a most un-Christian one, but a pleasure nonetheless. It takes talent to do that.
Some have it, some don't. Richard Nixon always wondered why when Harry S. Truman cursed, it sounded homespun, like it came from the village wag, while when he cursed it sounded obscene, like it came from a dockside thug. Quite simply, as people pointed out to him, he didn't know how to curse.
Ditto here. Some people know how to insult, some others just don't.
* * *
Don't forget, tonight the Stop the Killings bar tour moves on to Makati. Saguijo Bar @ 7612 Guijo St., San Antonio Village, with Parokya ni Edgar, Paramita, Giniling Fest, Salindiwa, and Spy, at 9:30.
http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=28509
Cayabyab more than the others. His comments were rich, or wickedly delicious. He told one contestant (or words to this effect -- I'm quoting from memory): "Your voice has never been your greatest asset. You've always paled in comparison to the others. Over the past weeks, you've only proven that more and more: You've gone from bad to worse. Your journey with 'Philippine Idol' should have ended much earlier."
It wasn't quite Simon Cowell in venomous relish, but it caught a bit of the spirit. Since then, I've heard the same tack in other musical programs with a similar format, judges or (musical school) headmasters trying to put contestants away, or down, with acerbic wit. Sometimes it comes off with aplomb. Most of the time, it sounds just a little cruel.
A word of advice to those planning to embark on the enterprise: It takes wit to carry off something like that. Without the wit, which is what makes it palatable despite the toxicity, all it leaves is a bad taste in the mouth. Cowell does have wit. Savageness alone doesn't quite hack it, or all it does is hack savagely. Savage wit is what does the trick. Insult is an art, which rises to magnificence with people like Oscar Wilde. It doesn't quite do to say that America hasn't entirely transcended its wilderness stage. Much better Wilde's "America is the only country that went from barbarism to decencies without civilization in between."
I do know another Simon who far surpasses Cowell in venom but who is a joy to listen to, or read. He was theater and movie critic John Simon who turned insult to a darkly lofty craft. A sample of his wit or cruelty: "(Barbra Streisand) a horse face centering on a nose that looks like Brancusi's Rooster cast in liverwurst." "Miss (Judy) Garland's figureresembles the giant-economy size tube of toothpaste in girls' bathrooms. Squeezed intemperately at all points, it acquires a shape that defies definition by the most resourceful solid geometrician." "Roger Daltrey (in 'Lisztomania') performed with a face as long as a mule and a talent considerably shorter."
The humor, of course, comes at somebody's expense, but what the hell, it's bloody hilarious.
Indeed, where the putdown is done verbally, it takes flair to carry it off. Cayabyab doesn't do badly in that department. I must confess I was taken aback by what he said about the contestant (I didn't expect something like that from a local show), but I must confess as well that I found myself exulting after my initial surprise. No point in filing up people with false hopes, particularly aspiring singers or musicians in a country crawling with talent. Who knows? Maybe it's good to challenge them that way because they can always prove the judgment wrong. If I recall right, Albert Einstein's teacher said he'd never get very far in the sciences because he wasn't very good at math. Boy, did he show him some numbers (and letters) -- e=mc² -- that spun this planet off its axis. You never know if a contestant might be moved enough in this way to move heaven and earth to prove he or she has a claim, if not a birthright, to stardom.
But to go back to what I was saying, Cayabyab didn't come across as crabby at all. He's the type who can say, "Don't give up your day job," without sounding offensive. The one who used to have flair, too, or even savoir faire, and could hold his own with the best of them was Edu Manzano. I really think he should go back and devote his energies to fighting boredom rather than fighting "pirates," but that's another story. In his case though, particularly as host of "The Weakest Link," the putdown was a ritual of sorts. All the guests knew they were up for some barb about their apparent ignorance and were up to it. But Manzano still did it breezily, turning his peculiar way of saying "Goodbye," done with outsized, self-mocking, curtness, into quite literally a household word.
The local term is "taray," but it doesn't quite capture the soul of it. I've seen and heard a lot of taray in reel and real life, and I can't say I find any redeeming virtue in much of it. It is neither witty nor wise. Nor is it kind to the ears, the taray invariably being delivered with a shrillness defying forbearance. It just makes you want to believe that God periodically sends boils, plagues and people like that your way to remind you, like Job, that life is pain.
The wittily crafted putdown, or death sentence -- which is how it comes across from judges of contests in particular, who are not unlike judges of Death Row cases -- is not like that at all. It leaves the audience at least, if not the subject of the barb, in a state of pleasurable amusement. A guilty pleasure no doubt, and a most un-Christian one, but a pleasure nonetheless. It takes talent to do that.
Some have it, some don't. Richard Nixon always wondered why when Harry S. Truman cursed, it sounded homespun, like it came from the village wag, while when he cursed it sounded obscene, like it came from a dockside thug. Quite simply, as people pointed out to him, he didn't know how to curse.
Ditto here. Some people know how to insult, some others just don't.
* * *
Don't forget, tonight the Stop the Killings bar tour moves on to Makati. Saguijo Bar @ 7612 Guijo St., San Antonio Village, with Parokya ni Edgar, Paramita, Giniling Fest, Salindiwa, and Spy, at 9:30.
http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=28509
posted by dqfan06 @ 5:37 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home