The Housewife and The Politician

The online petition and the calls for apology by an affronted country are enough to express outrage over the racial slur made by the television series Desperate Housewives. I need not join the fray. But when my cousin swore she heard a local politician say 'Teri Tatcher' on air, I just couldn't let it pass without giving my two cents' worth. Here goes...

First, the housewife. I, who am located at the extreme end of the political spectrum, was personally insulted by the tasteless remark. And that's because I happen to be a Filipino. Imagine then the insult Filipino doctors might have felt considering that the remark pertained to them.

For those who say that we're overreacting and that the remark was just probably a joke - nice try, fellows. Sure, I can take a joke, even if the joke's bordering on insult, provided that the person who delivers it is a true blooded Filipino. Teri Hatcher's character in the series is not a Filipino; hence, insulting a nation to which she does not belong hardly qualifies as a joke.

Let's look at it from the series' perspective: This doctor informs Hatcher's character that she's undergoing menopausal stage. Hatcher's character might have found this insulting given the stereotype and her ignorance on the concept of 'menopause'. So she insults the doctor back with a remark where she thought it'll probably hurt him the most - his education. The intention then of the character was not to make the doctor laugh. There was a clear intent to insult the doctor. Call me dense, but I cannot locate the joke there.

The scriptwriter had an array of retorts laid out before him but he went right ahead and used that which would insult a nation over a trivial thing as menopause, a process every woman goes through.

The network handling the series had already issued an apology and I fully quote the article:

"The producers of Desperate Housewives and ABC Studios offer our sincere apologies for any offence caused by the brief reference in the season premiere," a statement said. "There was no intent to disparage the integrity of any aspect of the medical community in the Philippines. As leaders in broadcast diversity, we are committed to presenting sensitive and respectful images of all communities featured in our programmes."

Thanks for even mentioning The Philippines in your series but if you have nothing nice to say about it, then leave our country alone (Chris Crocker mode on)!

Now, the local politician. He used to be an actor. Actor-politicians aren't new in my country. They breed, this particular specie. Anyway, he represents a beautiful Southern province. He doesn't really strike me as intelligent, but whatever my opinion on his intelligence is worth, it's probably less to the good people of this province. This gentleman rose from the ranks - councilor, a few positions more, then Congressman. He is probably a very efficient public servant for the people in this province to elect him as their representative.

So, what seems to be my problem with him? Well, he has already earned my displeasure for a statement he made on a certain issue (not the Desperate Housewives thingy). It's more of his meddling on an issue that's beyond his jurisdiction than his remark that annoyed me, really. Now, he gives his opinion regarding the racial slur and I'm cool with that. He's just doing what politicians do best - jumping into the bandwagon. But I'm thinking, 'what the heck?' The more people voice their outrage on this Housewives remark, the better. However, his saying the wrong name on air really irked me: 'Teri Tatcher'? C'mon! Ok, Congressman, repeat after me: Teri Hatcher.

Word to the wise: Be more knowledgeable of the facts of the issue you're commenting on; otherwise, just shut up.

I rest my case.

The Saint: Espionage or Romance?

A saint is someone invoked by Catholics to intercede for them. In my limited, yet accurate, knowledge of the lengthy process of Canonization, a truly remarkable person, living or dead, must perform at least three miracles to be canonized a saint. Vatican has yet to determine whether the miracles performed are, indeed, miracles.

Russia is in the midst of a political turmoil, and on top of that, its citizens are dying from extreme cold. What Russia needs is a miracle, and billionaire nationalist Tretiak is willing to perform that miracle. But to do so, he enlists the help of master thief and elusive disguise artist Simon Templar. The latter's assignment: Steal the cold fusion notes from Dr. Emma Russell, the genius behind the scientific phenomenon that could change the world. I will not even pretend to understand what this science mambo jumbo called cold fusion is all about.

Anyway, the assignment seems like a walk in the park for our very suave espionage hero. After doing a background check on his victim, discovering that she's one lonely romantic with a fascination for magic, Templar poses as dashing debonair Thomas Moore and seduces his way into Dr. Russell's brassiere - where she keeps her cold fusion notes. Piece of cake. What Templar wasn't ready for, which, however, was predictable from our end of the spectrum, was him falling in love with his prey.

In the game of cloak-and-dagger, surrendering your heart is one dangerous move.

At the end of the day, The Saint is a love story. But thank goodness for its espionage theme. And thanks too to the director for squeezing in thrilling chases and fascinating disguises just when the scenes between Val Kilmer's and Elizabeth Shue's characters become cheesy.

I am not underplaying the remarkable tactics and suaveness of Val Kilmer's character, which the actor portrayed impeccably. Neither am I disregarding the espionage theme of the movie, which I find really enthralling. The point is, Kilmer's character did a 360 degree turn when he meets Shue's character. From being cold and cynical, he becomes this dashing hero intent on protecting his woman. Remember the scene in that icy cold river? If a man can dive under that to save my medicine bottle, I'll marry him in a heartbeat.

And why am I gushing about this movie that's classified as an action thriller like it's some chick flick? Two words: Val Kilmer. This guy is hot! Sequels, please.

When a person constantly changes his name, personality and appearance, he may lose sight of the person he truly is. This movie appeals to me because of the subtle message of not being afraid of your past and your pain. Kilmer's character is running away from his past, from his pain, afraid that he will not be able to love and be loved. So when Shue's character was able to 'strip him naked', so to speak, he was afraid, yet fascinated. Who is this woman who does not know anything about him and yet knows him? And how did she find him, when even the best of the Interpol couldn't?

Simon Templar uses the names of Catholic saints to aid him in his close-call escapes, which are, in themselves, miracles. But the miraculous thing that ever happened to him is Dr. Emma Russell loving him, in spite of everything.

Ok, I'll stop here...it's getting a bit cheesy even for my quill.

Pimp My Ride and Public Commute

New York has the Subway. Hong Kong has the MTR. The Philippines has the MRT or Metro Rail Transit. I've ridden the MRT countless times but I can never, for the life of me, understand why I can't seem to get used to it.

I drive a 1992 Toyota Corolla XE. It has been in the family for 15 years. And in a culture that's a staunch believer of hand-me-downs, my car is a hand-me-down, from father, to brother, to me. I'm not complaining though. Except for minor scratches, which are barely visible unless you're nose to nose with the car, my car can still fetch a good amount when sold. Not that I have any plans to sell it. My mother won't let me. Being the first family car, it is protected by what we call 'sentimental value'.

I didn't get the car straight away. I had it only when I was in second year college. My parents decided that I should experience the wonders of public commute during my freshman year. This declaration was received in panic. Yeah, I rode public transport when I was in the province but this was the city! The city, for crying out loud! Do they really think I'd survive those jeepneys running like mad in the streets, those cabs that charge triple the regular fare? Turned out I was being overly dramatic. The jeepney rides weren't that bad. Except for my hair being in a constant mess when the jeepney roamed the Metro like there's no tomorrow, I was grateful that I had to put up with it for only 15 minutes, my house being so close to my University. The cab rides weren't all worked up as I pictured them to be. In fact, the drivers were quite friendly and rarely did I come across one who charged me an excess fare.

When I was finally given the keys to my car, surprisingly, I wasn't that excited. Sure, it would mean the end of my public commutes, but other than that, there was nothing else to it. I'm a homebody, and so is my car. When my destination does not have decent parking spaces or is somewhat new to me, I take the public transport. Other than these though, I drive whenever and wherever, which are far and between anyway.

Then came the MRT, a transport I highly recommend if you're not a fan of bumper to bumper traffic. The only problem, too many people. This is one huge matter in my case because I'm afraid of crowds, and I'm a self-proclaimed claustrophobic. Back when I was riding the MRT to work, I would go to the station an hour earlier so I could have the luxury of waiting for a vacant carriage.

It has been months since my MRT rides but I was forced a trip down my public commute memory lane because I rode the MRT yesterday. What's more, the station where we, my cousin and I, got on and off were full of people. Where did they all come from? The wonderful thing about the MRT, however, is its link to the malls. I was thus spared the horrors of being shoved by the crowd to the noisy streets of downtown Cubao.

I still prefer to drive to my destination, traffic notwithstanding. I'm patient anyway.

The Prince & Me: A Fairy Tale & More

The movie has the makings of a fairy tale: Dashing, handsome Eddie meets and falls for pretty, ordinary Paige Morgan. Of course it helps that Eddie happens to be the Crown Prince Edvard Valdemar Dangaard, a fact unknown to Paige.

Prince Edvard is every inch the irresponsible heir to the throne. To the utter disappointment of his parents, the King and Queen of Denmark, he whiles away his time racing cars and chasing women. In short, Prince Edvard is a paparazzi's dream.

Paige is from Wisconsin; a simple girl with a simple dream: To enter Johns Hopkins and work for Doctors Without Borders. She is every parent's dream child - intelligent, independent and responsible.

Their worlds collide when Prince Edvard, not quite ready to take over the 'family business' yet, decides to fly to Wisconsin, where he hears the girls are wild. He poses as Eddie, a foreign exchange student, and has a disastrous initial encounter with Paige: He, thinking she's just another wild college girl; She, adamant that he's a 'royal pain in the ass'.

The two get long eventually, as is to be expected from people who are constantly thrown into each other's company. They got along too well, in fact, that they find themselves falling in love. It is during this time that the now mature Eddie is recalled to Denmark to take on his princely duties, as his father is terminally ill. Stunned, Paige has to decide whether to stay and pursue her dreams or abandon her future and follow Eddie across the Atlantic.

The movie may be classified as a romantic comedy but it manages to be more than that with its theme of female empowerment. It's easy enough to say that this movie is a fairy tale: An ordinary girl finally meets her prince charming, who, in actuality, is a prince. But the movie is not your ordinary fairy tale because we have a character, in the person of Paige Morgan, who does not dream of castles or princes, but dreams of medical school and working in places that aren't exactly tourist destinations. In fact, Eddie himself admitted that he finds Paige intimidating; he, of the royal blood, who has had a fair share of intimidating people.

The fact that Paige and Eddie ended up together in the end does not lessen the female empowerment theme the movie carries. The DVD has an alternate ending which, I later learned from director Martha Coolidge in her commentary, was the originally intended ending. In the alternate, Paige turned her back on Eddie, returned to Wisconsin, and realized her dreams. Some, and even I on occasions, think that this is the appropriate ending given the movie's strong pull towards women who realize their dreams. But Coolidge decided to have the lead characters back together because of their strong love for each other. And I must say I totally agree, not because I'm a sucker for happy endings. The movie laid down the love foundation perfectly that the fairy tale ending looked like the originally intended ending and the alternate, well, just an alternate. Besides, the prince was willing to compromise so all is well. It is possible to have your cake and eat it too.

Another factor for the fairy tale ending would be the sizzling chemistry between Julia Stiles and Luke Mably. Anyone who saw this movie cannot just ignore the obvious on-screen attraction and opt for the alternate ending. I surfed the net for news of an off-screen romance between the leads but Stiles already has a boyfriend and it isn't Mably. Still, I was thrilled when I came across this interview on Mably:

Thinking back, what’s your favorite memory from shooting "The Prince & Me?"

Lots of it. There was so much to do in the movie, but I really enjoyed doing the stuff with Julia. I really miss seeing her face every day. I think she’s a really special actress, a very exciting actress to work with. (Source)

I'm not laying down my quill on these two just yet.

Octoberfest

September being the Bar Exam month, naturally, all entries in my blog for the month of September have been anything and everything about the Bar Exams.

From September 1, a Saturday, and the next Saturdays thereafter (for four Saturdays), I had been driving my cousin to the Manila Diamond Hotel, where her school's barristers were billeted. Then on Sundays (for four Sundays), I had been waiting for her at the EGI Tower, a commercial/residential building right beside the bar exam venue. The first Sunday was spent entirely at the Tower; I got really bored. Luckily, the cafeteria I was waiting at sells second-hand books and I got myself a copy of The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan. The second Sunday saw me roaming the stalls of Harrison Plaza. I spent a good 3 hours scouring for books at Book Sale and National Bookstore. I roamed the whole of the Metro on the third Sunday for a church that said mass at 2 in the afternoon. Unfortunately, there wasn't one nearer the bar exam venue so I had to drive all the way to St. Peter's, a church located in front of our subdivision. The last Sunday, I got lost after buying flowers for my cousin. I couldn't find the road that will lead me right into Espana. I drove straight from Dangwa, until I found myself caught in traffic at the area where Chinese General Hospital is located. After a few more wrong turns, I stopped for directions and I was able to keep my mind mentally clear this time for the directions given by a friendly gasoline attendant. Whew.

So what will the month of October bring me? Hopefully, an appointment at that job I applied for; more interesting entries; and a more open me.