WITH apologies to the great Erica Orloff who just recently wrote about how movies depict writers, I'm about to venture in a blog slightly on the same topic.
My first take is that putting writers in movies readily allows scriptwriters to have characters who can mouth all the right words at the right place at the right moment -- which rarely ever happens in real life, even to real-life writers.
I may be trained to write under pressure about games that end past deadline but during heated discussions with the wife, I fold at crunchtime, completely at a loss for words most of the time.
Things are different in the movies, but of course.
If the male character happens to be a novelist like Paul Giamatti's in Sideways, or even somebody who just happens to sell books like Hugh Grant's in Nottinghill, there's a strong chance that despite his insecurities and stuttering he will win the girl before the credits roll.
Today, however, I'm writing about movies that portray sportswriters, which isn't very often.In Forget Paris Billy Crystal played an NBA referee whose best friend happened to be sportwriter.
I don't know back there, but here sportswriters and PBA referees hardly ever cross paths except in the hardcourt. We live in different worlds. I have sat down for a few bottles with pro players but never with the men in gray.
When Kevin Costner's character scored eight in a single hole in Tin Cup, the person who talked to him in the bar was a sportswriter. Now there's some truth in there, because we tend to gravitate to beer joints after a day of coverage.
The closest a sportswriter could get to becoming the lead character was Dermot Mulroney's in My Best Friend's Wedding. I sort of identified with him because his love interest played by Julia Roberts was a food writer, and Vangie is our newspaper's top food writer.
Only in the movie, the sportswriter chose to end up with a sports mogul's daughter played by Cameron Diaz. Again that premise is not remotely possible here because sportswriters don't tread the same grounds as those in the upper crust of society except on rare occasions like a coverage of a polo event in Forbes Park.
Again, they only do happen in the movies.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Jackpot
There were long lines of people at the lotto booth today at Harrison Plaza, which has been my chill-out place of choice the past few years. Funny how Filipinos fancy multimillion-peso jackpot, no matter the odds are.
This reminded me of the conversation I had with a taxi driver on my way to the badminton court in Makati. We passed by yet another long queue of fortune-hunters and, immediately, the cabbie popped what has been the best -- if not most used -- of all ice-breakers: ``What would you do if you win the jackpot?''
That particular day, the 6-42 version has a P100 million purse, and we were talking primarily of winning the windfall solo.
I wasn't in the mood for that -- though it was also an all-time favorite driving conversation topic between me and Vangie -- so I threw the question back at him.
The driver, visibly delighted to suddenly get to say his piece, fixed his seat and then started his multimillion-peso plan.
``Unang una boss, magpapa check-up kaming lahat,'' he said, ``Buong pamilya, misis ko, apat na anak. Doon sa pinaka magandang ospital.''
I must admit that he managed to grab my attention with that first crack, considering that I was expecting him to say that he'd buy a new house and car like most I heard.
``Kasi paano namin ma-enjoy yung yaman namin kung merong may sakit?'' he quickly added. ``Kaya kung may konting diprensiya, naku sir, ipagagamot ko na agad.
``Ultimo ipin naming lahat, ipapagawa ko,'' he said.
Then, he said he would build four-door apartment in the piece of land his family owned. And probably go abroad and buy cars.
I asked if he doesn't want to make any investments. He said he'd put what's left of the money in time deposit. That was neat.
Then he shot back the question at me.
``Kayo po sir?''
Without much thought, I told him that after I claimed the P100 million, I will fly to Europe.
``Ganun lang po sir?
And that's where I will try to figure out what to do with my fortunes.
I would take my own sweet time deciding where to put my money, I explained to him.
I'd have coffee al fresco in bustling streets of Paris, hit the wild London party scene and visit the summer and winter palaces of the former Russian monarchs.
I already have the money, what's the point of rushing?
The cabbie was speechless but nevertheless appeared to be convinced. And as I stepped out he shot back: ``Galing nung naisip mo sir!''
This reminded me of the conversation I had with a taxi driver on my way to the badminton court in Makati. We passed by yet another long queue of fortune-hunters and, immediately, the cabbie popped what has been the best -- if not most used -- of all ice-breakers: ``What would you do if you win the jackpot?''
That particular day, the 6-42 version has a P100 million purse, and we were talking primarily of winning the windfall solo.
I wasn't in the mood for that -- though it was also an all-time favorite driving conversation topic between me and Vangie -- so I threw the question back at him.
The driver, visibly delighted to suddenly get to say his piece, fixed his seat and then started his multimillion-peso plan.
``Unang una boss, magpapa check-up kaming lahat,'' he said, ``Buong pamilya, misis ko, apat na anak. Doon sa pinaka magandang ospital.''
I must admit that he managed to grab my attention with that first crack, considering that I was expecting him to say that he'd buy a new house and car like most I heard.
``Kasi paano namin ma-enjoy yung yaman namin kung merong may sakit?'' he quickly added. ``Kaya kung may konting diprensiya, naku sir, ipagagamot ko na agad.
``Ultimo ipin naming lahat, ipapagawa ko,'' he said.
Then, he said he would build four-door apartment in the piece of land his family owned. And probably go abroad and buy cars.
I asked if he doesn't want to make any investments. He said he'd put what's left of the money in time deposit. That was neat.
Then he shot back the question at me.
``Kayo po sir?''
Without much thought, I told him that after I claimed the P100 million, I will fly to Europe.
``Ganun lang po sir?
And that's where I will try to figure out what to do with my fortunes.
I would take my own sweet time deciding where to put my money, I explained to him.
I'd have coffee al fresco in bustling streets of Paris, hit the wild London party scene and visit the summer and winter palaces of the former Russian monarchs.
I already have the money, what's the point of rushing?
The cabbie was speechless but nevertheless appeared to be convinced. And as I stepped out he shot back: ``Galing nung naisip mo sir!''
Friday, February 15, 2008
Bamboo kissed Maxi
I had a rare birthday treat last Thursday. What was planned to be just an afternoon in the mall and seafoods dinner turned out to be filled with music and fireworks -- literally.
Bamboo, the rock star who looks like a wayward brother of Sen. Chiz Escudero, was holding a rehearsal at the makeshift stage at Mall of Asia ocean drive. It was only 4:30 p.m., and people in that part of the mall was scarce. That's until he began singing. In dark shades, white cotton shirt and black pants, Bamboo slowly gathered up the crowd. When he hoohooed the chorus of Alleluia, the people went wild. Then he left.
Three hours later, Isay Alvarez and Robert Sena were already doing the front act. They had beautiful, fantastic voices, but Vangie and I agreed that they didn't hit it off with the crowd. With repertoire of standard classics and broadway ditties, the crowd got obviously bored prompting Sena to jokingly tell them ``Don't worry, lalabas din si Bamboo.''
They could have chosen less snobbish FM radio songs and even Filipino hits, the better to click with the generally masa crowd who were there for the love songs. The girl who sang before and after them got a bigger applause just by hitting the first notes of The Greatest Love of All.
Then Bamboo arrived. He sang two songs we're not familiar with, probably cuts from his new album we don't know about. On his third song, he jumped off stage, went to his right, scanned the delirious crowd -- which included us standing by the railings -- and went straight to us. At that moment, my theory is confirmed: The glare of the spotlight plus Maxi's megawatt smile could steal anybody's attention. He stood there in front of Vangie and Maxi, and made a salute, while me and Mavi extended our hands unnoticed like the rest.
You see some months back when Bamboo performed for the office anniversary, he also bounced into the crowd and sat beside Vangie. Now for a while there, it got me curious. Could it be that he recognized Vangie from the thick crowd? That Bamboo could have the hots for my wife?
Things went so fast I wasn't able to pull out my phone to record the entire thing. He held Maxi's -- and not Vangie's, thank God! -- hand and kissed it. Then ruffled her hair before springing back to shake the hands of the rest of the adoring crowd.
Later, when we were washing hands for dinner at nearby Dampa, Maxi asked me to soap her hands well because she said she doesn't like the smell.
But that, of course, is jumping ahead of the story and is by no means the highlight of this blog entry.
By the time Bamboo blasted off with the first chorus of Alleluia, the sky began to light up. Massive sparks of different colors and speed flew into the night sky and opened up the bay with furious blaze. The crowd went crazy. It was as if we're inside a movie which was rolling to its rousing finale. It got into Vangie, Mavi and Maxi who kissed me and greeted me happy birthday.
Crab-and-shrimp dinner: P1,000
Concert: Free
Birthday Experience: Priceless
Bamboo, the rock star who looks like a wayward brother of Sen. Chiz Escudero, was holding a rehearsal at the makeshift stage at Mall of Asia ocean drive. It was only 4:30 p.m., and people in that part of the mall was scarce. That's until he began singing. In dark shades, white cotton shirt and black pants, Bamboo slowly gathered up the crowd. When he hoohooed the chorus of Alleluia, the people went wild. Then he left.
Three hours later, Isay Alvarez and Robert Sena were already doing the front act. They had beautiful, fantastic voices, but Vangie and I agreed that they didn't hit it off with the crowd. With repertoire of standard classics and broadway ditties, the crowd got obviously bored prompting Sena to jokingly tell them ``Don't worry, lalabas din si Bamboo.''
They could have chosen less snobbish FM radio songs and even Filipino hits, the better to click with the generally masa crowd who were there for the love songs. The girl who sang before and after them got a bigger applause just by hitting the first notes of The Greatest Love of All.
Then Bamboo arrived. He sang two songs we're not familiar with, probably cuts from his new album we don't know about. On his third song, he jumped off stage, went to his right, scanned the delirious crowd -- which included us standing by the railings -- and went straight to us. At that moment, my theory is confirmed: The glare of the spotlight plus Maxi's megawatt smile could steal anybody's attention. He stood there in front of Vangie and Maxi, and made a salute, while me and Mavi extended our hands unnoticed like the rest.
You see some months back when Bamboo performed for the office anniversary, he also bounced into the crowd and sat beside Vangie. Now for a while there, it got me curious. Could it be that he recognized Vangie from the thick crowd? That Bamboo could have the hots for my wife?
Things went so fast I wasn't able to pull out my phone to record the entire thing. He held Maxi's -- and not Vangie's, thank God! -- hand and kissed it. Then ruffled her hair before springing back to shake the hands of the rest of the adoring crowd.
Later, when we were washing hands for dinner at nearby Dampa, Maxi asked me to soap her hands well because she said she doesn't like the smell.
But that, of course, is jumping ahead of the story and is by no means the highlight of this blog entry.
By the time Bamboo blasted off with the first chorus of Alleluia, the sky began to light up. Massive sparks of different colors and speed flew into the night sky and opened up the bay with furious blaze. The crowd went crazy. It was as if we're inside a movie which was rolling to its rousing finale. It got into Vangie, Mavi and Maxi who kissed me and greeted me happy birthday.
Crab-and-shrimp dinner: P1,000
Concert: Free
Birthday Experience: Priceless
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