Bonded November 23, 2006

I READ our Saturday Special article on local preferences of James Bond actors, and found it very interesting. Most Filipinos believe Sean Connery was the best Bond ever. Even those who weren't around in the 1960s when Connery burst on the scene and changed the concept of cinematic hero forever.

I'm not entirely surprised. Some years ago, I told my daughter about a review I read about "First Knight." The reviewer said it subverted suspension of disbelief that any woman would fall for Richard Gere (Lancelot) when she already had Sean Connery (King Arthur). Gray beard and all, the reviewer said, Connery still came across as sexier than Gere. I thought that was the funniest thing in the world. My daughter did not.

That was what most of those who picked Connery over the other Bond actors said. He was sexy. He was sophisticated and urbane. He had charm and elegance.

Another did say he always thought Connery was the Bond, until Daniel Craig came along. He had just seen "Casino Royale," and he could say for certain Craig was the real deal.

I agree -- to a point. I've seen "Casino Royale," too, and can say Craig lives every bit up to the hype. The hype says he's the best Bond since Connery, one guaranteed to pump new life into a dying franchise. He is, and will. Paradoxically, he's the perfect Bond for the new millennium because he's the one that hews closest to Ian Fleming's old Cold War vision of the character. He isn't one very cool Bond, he is one very icy Bond -- though not beyond melting. Certainly he isn't a Bond who says "Shocking" after he has electrified the bad guy. His witticisms have darker hues.

It's an inspired twist, but I myself would still pick Connery as the quintessential Bond for several reasons.

True enough, he wasn't faithful to Fleming's vision of the character. I read some of the Bond books in high school and can say with reasonable recall that the comic-strip version, which appeared regularly in one of the martial law newspapers, was by far the more faithful reproduction.

Fleming himself is known to have personally picked Connery to play Bond. He was convinced Connery was perfect for the part. But the movie Bond, which took on monstrous iconic, or iconoclastic, proportions, was not Fleming's vision, he was Terence Young's vision. Young was the first director of James Bond, and hands-down the best ever. The real cinematic Bond in fact was not Connery, it was Young.

Connery was a poor man's son who did hard manual work and competed in bodybuilding contests before he threw his lot into the movies. He was, by his own account, rough and unpolished, lacking the flair and sophistication needed to play the part. Young gave him that—by giving him the perfect example, who was himself. Connery merely needed to imitate him, and add his own physical attributes to the part. The original Bond was Young: dashing, urbane, well-traveled, patron of casinos, a spendthrift by most accounts, spending money as fast as he made them, a rogue charmer, a man-of-the-world, an out-and-out lover of life. Connery was his alter ego, albeit one that needed to be vigorously sculpted. Young merely fused the dark side of Ian Fleming's secret agent to his own personality, transposed them into Connery, and, voila, a living breathing person emerged. And he became as popular as Sherlock Holmes, although Holmes is (as far as I know) the only literary character that has a full biography.

But what a magnificent sculpture Connery turned out to be. Which brings me to why I believe Connery remains the best Bond ever. It's not just his acting or presence -- Craig is better in the first and at par in the second -- it is all the iconic elements that he brought to the role. Bond is also the product of his time, a creature of his time. The younger generation will probably not be able to appreciate the revolution his character wrought on the movies.

There's one scene in the very first Bond movie, "Dr. No," that says it all. That scene has Bond waiting patiently for a creep of a doctor who tried to dispatch him to the next life with a tarantula. The doctor enters, pumps his bed full of bullets, and discovers he is not in it. After a brief conversation, Bond shoots him, silencer and all (every other secret agent would tote that henceforth), in cold blood. That scene took a while to pass the censors. No movie hero had ever shot a villain that way before. The producers argued their cause-- it was completely ethical to do that in light of the provocation—and eventually won it.

Without that watershed, the opening of "Casino Royale" would not be possible. But I'll say no more about it, lest I spoil the pleasure of those who haven't seen it yet.

That scene alone would spawn an entire tribe of cinematic heroes-antiheroes, which would culminate in the brilliantly dementedly inspired Man-With-No-Name gunslinger character of Clint Eastwood in Sergio Leone's spaghetti westerns. Today, of course, with Lucy Liu lopping off the head of a Yakuza boss in an underworld board meeting in Quentin Tarantino's "Kill Bill 1," that would be par for the course, replete with cult witticism.

A whole procession of actors has come along to play Bond, of whom Craig is easily the best after Connery. But Connery can never be knocked off the pantheon of the gods. When he said for the first time at the casino in "Dr. No," "My name is Bond (pause, to light a cigarette), James Bond," he didn't just mouth a line, he staked a claim. No other actor may say that without feeling like a poacher.

James Bond himself might as have said, "My name is Sean," pause for whatever, "Sean Connery." But as an afterthought, he might also have said, "My name is Craig," pause for a wry smile, "Daniel Craig."

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Run him, he'll win November 22, 2006

THE text messages came fast and furious midweek last week: Gringo Honasan had been caught. One or two even called up to tell me about it. My reaction was: "Yes, so?"

Of course, I sympathize with Honasan for the injuries he got while trying to escape his pursuers, especially in the, well, colorful circumstances that he did. It would have made for a nice scene in an action movie, or a comedy of the titillating kind. I recall again the ordeal of a friend of mine who got pursued by arresting officers in the dead of night past narrow alleys in Manila's Sta. Mesa district during the dark days of martial law. He got tagged in a spot where the residents had hung out their clothes to dry and his hands were bound by clothesline wire. He was charged with resisting arrest along with subversion. He wanted to say, "I was not resisting arrest, I was avoiding arrest!" But he thought prudence was the better part of valor, silence the better part of wit.

But to go back: Frankly, I don't know why Honasan was hiding. Even more frankly, I don't know why he was being sought out by the authorities. That's what happened too after the Oakwood mutiny. Every time something like that happens, his name seems to be ticked off routinely. Reminds you of Claude Rains' famous line in "Casablanca": "Round up the usual suspects."

Honasan is the victim of his own notoriety, if not self-advertisement. I've asked around about the February "withdrawal of support," and most of those I've talked to say his participation there was largely marginal. I did ask some of the Magdalo officers last year how influential Honasan was with them, and they told me that although they regarded him as an "icon," as indeed they did most of the RAM leaders, and as indeed they did the military officers whose reputation for valor and incorruptibility preceded them -- Ariel Querubin and Alexander Balutan chief of them -- they were not exactly under his spell or tutelage.

Of course, he didn't mind being bruited about as the roisterer, physical or spiritual, of military restiveness. He may have been the source of some of the rumors himself. Well, there's as much a price to pay for notoriety as (romantic) perks to derive from it.

None of this can be unknown to government, whose intelligence may not be so unintelligent. Which brings me to why it should be so earnest in trying to nab him. Indeed, to why Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo herself would go out of her way to make a big thing of his arrest.

My theory is that the government's pinning the "withdrawal of support" on Honasan promotes one self-serving, and fallacious, idea. Namely, that the "withdrawal of support" is no better or worse than the foiled RAM coups of the past. The logic is: It shares the same messianic spirit, or sense of adventurism, or belief that a few bold souls from the military could rescue this country from its lot. It shares the same praetorian mentality as well, the coup plotters being poised to take over the country and run it themselves.

Nothing can be further from the truth. The February "withdrawal of support" was like the RAM coups of the past only in the same way that oil spill off the shores of Guimaras is like the garbage collecting on the waters of the Manila Bay. It is a gross exaggeration. No, it is a gross distortion. The opposite in fact is truer.

Unlike the RAM coups of the past, the February (would-be) revolt did not intend to put the military in charge of the country. The fact that Dodong Nemenzo is being accused of rebellion, along with Oscar Orbos and many others, is proof of it. By government's own avowal, the coup, had it succeeded, would have put up a transitional civilian government in its place. The old RAM coups, had they succeeded, would have put RAM government in place of Cory's.

Unlike the RAM coups of the past, the February "withdrawal of support" was not a coup in the traditional sense; it was an extension of people power. It did not rely on a few individuals to carry it out; it relied on the nation to do it. If it were a coup, it would have been the most popular coup in the world, in every sense of the word "popular." Hell, it was so openly advertised they even tried to get Generals Generoso Senga and Hermogenes Esperon to join it. The real coup, in every sense of the word too, happened well before, wreaked by GMA with the help of Garci.

By assigning Honasan a key role in the February revolt, or indeed the role of its mastermind, the government hopes to reduce it to just another episode in the never-ending series of military adventurism. A case of batty messiahs trying to bring down a duly constituted government. The last is wrong on both counts.

Honasan, however, may console himself with one thing: He is getting free, high-profile, unadulterated pre-campaign advertising. If he manages to run for senator next year -- I don't know what Raul Gonzalez can do to prevent him from doing so; forget Gonzalez's kidneys, his real disease lodges in another organ upstairs, way, way upstairs -- I have little doubt he will win. In fact, he may even top the field on the strength of his being depicted as Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo's No. 1 enemy, or would-be destroyer. It will have nothing to do with a dubious plotter's charisma or acceptability.

It will have everything to do with a fake President's lack of them.

http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=33989

Proud to be Filipino November 21, 2006

I WONDER what it is about dictatorships that make sports flourish -- or at least about our dictatorships. If I recall right, we produced some pretty bright spots in sports during Marcos' time, too. Rolando Navarete was one of them, a hard-hitting though one-sided boxer, who went far but never quite reached the same dizzying heights as Manny Pacquiao. And if the reports are true, though he never reached those heights, he suffered the steepest falls. He is apparently now dependent on the kindness of strangers, or friends, in General Santos City, having added drugs to his many vices.

Eugene Torre was there, too, the Filipino grandmaster who at one point barged through to one of the interzonals that was to produce the challenger for the world championship. Alas, he didn't quite make it. But it was farther than any Filipino had gone before, or after.

These days, we're having some kind of renaissance in sports. I hadn't gotten over the thrill of Ronnie Alcano's victory in the world pool championships when Manny Pacquiao's demolition of Erik Morales came along.

The only thing that's problematic about it is that the dictatorships have a tendency to lay claim to their accomplishments -- and for the sports heroes themselves to oblige. The reasons are understandable: the sports heroes come from destitute circumstances, which is why they took to sports to begin with -- and can do with sponsors, however they are the most obnoxious people on earth.

Those considerations aside, I thrilled to Pacquiao's fight last Sunday afternoon. Though again my viewing was spoiled by someone who ought to know better than sending me a text message revealing the result just before the fight began. You forget all other considerations once Pacquiao steps into the ring and remember only that you're a Filipino. Or you don't even remember at all, all your instincts spring to life with it.

If that fight had any lesson to give, it is the old, but often forgotten one, which is never to fight in anger. The entire martial arts philosophy says you should fight earnestly but coolly, ferociously but dispassionately. You bring your ego to a fight, you're dead. That was what Morales forgot, and he paid the price.

Of course, he seemed like a shadow of his former self, physically as much as spiritually. He looked emaciated, his efforts to lose weight having taken its toll on his physique. As one of the commentators noted, he was surprised to see Morales look smaller than Pacquiao, a sight he never thought he would see. He did look smaller than Pacquaio because he looked thin and reedy. Terible was the last thing he radiated. But that wasn't why he lost.

He lost because he decided to engage Pacquaio in a brawl. The one moment when I thought Pacquaio had him was toward the end of the second round, when after a flurry of fierce exchanges, he looked at Pacquiao with scorn, eager to take him on at his game. Even if I hadn't known the outcome before hand (although hindsight is always 20-20 vision), I'd have thought that. Morales had always been the superior boxer, he had always been the inferior slugger. To take Pacquaio on in a slugfest was to flirt with suicide. A flirtation that was disastrously consummated.

In the end, it was Mexican hubris that did him in. Mexican boxers have always prided themselves with being able to take a punch -- glass jaws are for black fighters like Thomas Hearns, not for people like "Manos de Piedra" and stoned-jawed Roberto Duran -- and won't back away from a rumble. It was the weight of that pride that fell on Morales' shoulders last Sunday. Pacquiao had decked him once before, and when the Pacman seemed eager to do that all over again, Morales' ego was pricked. I don't know what kind of preparations he made. I myself thought he'd go back to the style that won him their first encounter, when he jabbed his way to a unanimous decision and taught his opponent a boxing lesson or two. But his eyes blazed after that second round. And that was the end of him.

None of this is to take anything away from Pacquaio who did a masterful job in the ring. And who did this nation a whole lot prouder by going over to Morales' corner, hugging his head briefly and offering consolation. It was as sportsmanlike a gesture as you could get. Truly, grace is the handmaiden of victory, humility the traveling companion of invincibility. I don't know what, or who, is in store for Pacquaio in months to come, but after last Sunday's fight, even Marco Antonio Barrera must be quaking in his boots. Pacquaio isn't getting weaker, he's getting stronger. The Pacman isn't losing his appetite, he's gobbling up everything in sight. Pound for pound, round for round, he's gone past even the great Flash Elorde.

He's the real deal, the "People's Champ," as Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo called him after the fight. Now, if he can only be as much a winner outside the ring as inside it, and learn to distinguish the genuine Filipino people who want to give to him from their fake leaders who want to take from him. But right now that hope seems a little distant. Maybe someone should tell him it's the secret to becoming a true People's Champ and not Some People's Chump.

* * *

I completely forgot to mention in yesterday's column that the Stop the Killings Bar Tour goes back to Conspiracy, 59 Visayas Avenue, Quezon City (across the street from a Shell station). It's a special night tonight because it's also Writers'/Artists' Night and the writers and artists are threatening to sing after featured artists Dong Abay and Aiza Seguerra. So far, the following have signed up: Rody Vera, Charlson Ong, Pete Lacaba, Susan Fernandez, Marne Kilates and Joel Saracho. Not to be outdone, several ABS-CBN Broadcasting personalities have volunteered their musical talents as well: Marc Logan, Caroline Howard, Eugene Adalia, and Ferdie Aboga. (Forget egging me on, you'll ruin your night.)

http://opinion.inq7.net/inquireropinion/columns/view_article.php?article_id=33811

Life flowers November 20, 2006

I NEVER GOT TO WRITE ABOUT IT LAST week, but I can’t let it pass without comment. Or indeed without praise. That was the call made by the Joint Foreign Chambers of Commerce and several multinationals on Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo to stop the killings. The Joint Foreign Chambers of Commerce represented the United States, Canada, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Japan and Korea. The call was made as well by several locally based US apparel companies.

“Such violence has no place in a modern democratic state. For the sake of justice, and to deter continued killings, these murders should be investigated thoroughly and those found responsible punished under the law.” These killings don’t stop, the groups warned, foreign investments will. What is at stake is P8.5 billion in direct foreign investments over the next four years that could provide jobs for close to 3 million Filipinos. The group’s statement made it clear that the days when foreign investments and a climate of murder were golfing buddies, which was when the United States supported thugs in the Third World, are over.

What can I say? I wouldn’t mind wearing Gap, Polo, or Ralph Lauren shirts in days to come. I don’t know that they’ve been charged with turning a blind eye to child labor in sweatshops in Asia, like Nike, but if only for their speaking out against the horrendous atrocity that is the open, brazen and near-genocidal decimation of journalists and political activists in this country, I’m all for giving them their due.

I’m especially elated that this comes in the heels of another momentous event, which is the Democratic victory in the United States. Which bodes well for the advancement—or never mind advancement, just mere observance—of human rights across the world. Or still indeed, never mind human rights, which sounds like an amenity of civilization like drinking tea; just mind the right to exist, to breathe, to occupy space which is being extirpated in this part of the world. My friends in Chicago were right, you can shout your head off at the obscenity and demand that the US government stop giving aid to a country that does these things, but so long as Bush and company have that country under their thumb, you will be trying to awaken someone who’s pretending to be asleep.

A Democratic victory has changed all that. Certainly, Nancy Pelosi, who’s likely to be the first woman Speaker of the House, and who used to rail against Marcos’ terror and mayhem, can’t take too kindly to what the current woman fake president in America’s former colony is doing to her countrymen. That fake president may be free to ignore the cries of the human rights community, the religious community and the swelling barangay of the kin of the dead, but she cannot afford to ignore the demands of the US Congress for the killings to stop. Those demands will have the tone and demeanor of Patrick Stewart telling his crew in “Star Trek: The Second Generation”: “Make it so.”

The same thing is true of foreign investors telling the fake president to stop the genuine killings. She may fake her response, but there is a price to pay for it in terms of money pouring into this country, a great deal of it into Pidal’s pockets. But it’s not a little ironic that the foreign community should be telling us what should be patent to us by now. Only a couple of weeks ago, the Asian Development Bank also pointed out something that’s staring us right in the face, which is the ravage upon the economy being wreaked by the exodus of skilled Filipino labor abroad. Foreign investments, it warned, won’t go to a country that has depleted itself of its human talent. Now comes the Joint Foreign Chambers of Commerce warning us foreign investments won’t go to a country that is depleting itself of its people. You would think that we would realize that on our own and—as far as the killings in particular go—voice the most violent protests against it.

Ignacio Bunye says his boss is herself earnest about stopping the killings and has ordered her people “to leave no stone unturned” in investigating the murders. That’s lamer than the paraplegics that inhabit Avenida’s orthopedic center. It merely adds another layer to this government’s capacity to lie through its teeth. A capacity to issue flat denials in the face of obdurate facts, not unlike a spouse resolutely denying infidelity while caught in the act—“this is not what you think ….” It also raises questions about Bunye’s hearing. Did GMA really say “Leave no stone unturned,” or “Leave no journalist or activist unharmed”?

He also says that his boss is reiterating her plea, which she issued in her Sona, for the victims’ kin to come out and give testimony so the murders could be solved. And what, add themselves to the list to be killed, given in particular Jovito Palparan’s logic that to be found in the company of suspected NPA members is to court mayhem? In any case, GMA should be the last person to invite witnesses to come out and tell what they know of the murders. One general, Francisco Gudani, did come out to tell what he knew of the murder of the votes in Lanao during the last elections, and she had him arrested and court-martialed. Before that, Acsa Ramirez also came out to damn evildoers and look what happened to her.

But I’m glad that the people and institutions, those that wield much clout and are in a position to influence this country’s direction, are using their clout to direct it to the right path. Or never mind the right path, just the path out of barbarism, savagery and death. I was beginning to think our call to stop the killings was doomed to fall on deaf ears.

I should have known that through the rubble, life would push through. Through the debris, life would flower.

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