Carlo, Cory & the irony of affirmation

At first I laughed. Asked if he deserved to be named National Artist for Visual Arts and Film, Magno Jose Caparas, famously known as Carlo J., told ANC’s Cheche Lazaro: “Talagang bagay sa akin… Kasi ang trabaho ko, binabasa, pinapanood sa buong bansa… Pambansa ang imahe at trabaho ko.” ¹

Yes, I laughed. Then I realized: This isn’t funny at all.² The guy actually thought he was in some kind of popularity contest! Duh. From “King of Komiks” to “King of Massacre Movies” — hey, why not National Artist as well? And yet Yoyoy Villame has had people up and down the archipelago singing and laughing to his music for ages. Guess what? Not a National Artist. Then there’s good old Dolphy, beloved by millions and still going strong after half a century. He’s no National Artist either. Not yet, anyway.

But Dolphy can afford to wait. (Which is not to say he’s interested in the designation.) No matter who’s sitting in Malacañang, he can always count on people to acknowledge his contribution to Philippine cinema — and by that I mean cinema as art, not as commercial enterprise. This is a luxury Caparas does not have. Who will remember Lipa Massacre³ in 20 or 30 years’ time? Who remembers it now? It won the FAMAS Best Picture award in 1995, if you can believe that. How about Tirad Pass, Humanda Ka, Mayor!, Tasya Fantasia — anyone? I dare that Gloria to sit through a non-stop screening of ten Caparas films (she’s free to choose which). The only allowable breaks are for meals and snacks, bathroom calls, and nosebleeds.⁴

Am I being personal? Like hell I am. If Carlo J. insists he went through the NCCA process despite contrary evidence (his name was submitted for consideration but never made it to the shortlist), then it’s only fair to ask what his contributions to the arts have been. It is worth noting that Jose “Pitoy” Moreno and Francisco Mañosa, whose names were also inserted at the eleventh hour (for Fashion Design and Architecture, respectively) aren’t all over the place trying to justify their new titles. They don’t need to; their oeuvres speak for them. Cecile  Alvarez may well have contributed to the theater arts — I am less informed in that regard — but she’s executive director of the NCCA, for crying out loud. Where’s the delicadeza?

Caparas, on the other hand, has it tough. He has to defend himself on two fronts. There is no question that he is a writer⁵ and director of motion pictures, but as a visual artist in komiks? Here, in a nutshell, is his komiks career, as per that ANC interview: He started out writing and illustrating his own stories, but had to go full-time into writing because he could earn more that way. Who could blame him? It also buttresses the claim made by his critics that his work in komiks is literary, not graphic. It took other people to sketch, ink, and color his stories into life — to realize them visually. Which is not to devalue the important contributions Caparas has made to the art of komiks; the problem is that none — nil, zip, nada, waley — of those contributions was visual in nature.

Not one to be fazed so easily, Caparas proceeded to fish out a sheaf of papers from a binder he had with him. “Here,” he (and I translate) said to Lazaro and the two other members of the discussion panel. “I want to show you some murals I did. This is hard stuff and not every painter can do it. Here’s proof that I can draw.”

Lord help us! I can imagine the ensuing hilarity had Lazaro decided to seize on that statement. She could have asked him, “When you honor someone for his work, isn’t it usually the case that that work had to have already been seen by an audience?” (After all, the world would not have recognized the genius of Leonardo had he kept the Mona Lisa, etc. hidden in a closet. Not that it’s easier to hide a mural, as I’m sure Lazaro also knew.) I could picture her turning to Jose “Butch” Dalisay, the writer, who was on Caparas’s right: “Professor, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t a mural supposed to be painted on a large surface — a wall or ceiling, maybe?”

But she did nothing of the sort. Instead she let Caparas demolish his own defense by piling one non-sequitur on top of another. If there was an outcry over his selection, it was due to “protest syndrome; some quarters just don’t like the President and so question everything she does, dragging me into the fray. She has the prerogative, you know.” (Oh we do, Carlo; we’re simply questioning the wisdom that went into the exercise of that damned prerogative. That and your qualifications, of course.) On why he did not make the cut for literature: “They want books, plays… the kind of stuff that they teach in schools.” (And this is supposed to be bad? But what else do you hold up as examples when teaching Philippine literature other than the best it has to offer? Of course, earlier in the interview he had quoted Nick Joaquin as saying that komiks wasn’t literature. I wonder who fed him that crap?)

What a twisted sense of humor the world has. Only a few days ago I had been tuned in to the same channel, quietly crying as Cory Aquino was laid to rest. I was sad, but proud — proud of that quiet woman who stared dictatorship and death in the eye and conquered both; proud of a nation that honored her legacy and memory in a manner that she would have approved of: spontaneous, subdued, prayerful, and full of renewed hope. It was the ultimate affirmation of the life's work of that simple housewife who gave so much and asked for nothing in return.

And that, in the end, is what Carlo J. seems unwilling to grasp. That a person is defined by his actions, not merely by titles or awards. That recognition and respect are offered, not gained by fiat. And that when you make a clown of yourself, the world reserves the right to laugh at you — and most often will. He tells stories for a living, dammit. How could he miss the irony?

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¹ You can watch video excerpts here: [Part 1] [Part 3].

Not surprisingly, this line of reasoning is shared by actress-producer Donna Villa, Caparas’s wife. From the Inquirer: “The award proves that Carlo is qualified and deserving. National Artist means being known nationwide. Who among those who are protesting can say they are well known across the country like Carlo? They can only be regarded as ‘sectoral artists.’” «

² Somehow the name “Michael Bay” kept coming to mind. Now there’s a director whose films have been seen by bajillions of people. He should demand some sort of title. «

³ Full title: Lipa Massacre: Lord, Deliver Us from Evil! Caparas is big on invoking higher powers. Note how he makes a point of stressing that the bestowal came from Malacañang, not from “elitists” whose fault it was somehow to have high standards. Does that mean Arroyo doesn’t? «

⁴ Comments about leaking implants will be ignored — pramish. «

⁵ Wikipedia credits Caparas for a 2009 screenplay with the curious title of Ang Mahiwagang Titi sa Noo (The Mysterious Penis on the Forehead). Same for a 2010 project supposedly in pre-production, Langitngit ng Kama (Bed Creaks). Likely some hacker’s prank, I tried to look for more information about them but came up empty. «

Cartoon by Ruben Nacion (via Komikero Comics Journal)