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Girl, Boy, Bakla, Tomboy, the latest collaboration from the ruling box-office king and queen Vice Ganda and director Wenn Deramas (think of him as the Luciano “Chaning” Carlos of the 21st century), is a movie that bypasses the viewer’s conscious mind and connects directly to the laugh reflex. We laughed and laughed and laughed, knowing full well that the film is politically incorrect, racially insensitive (A child actress in blackface is the butt of jokes of the “Iniwan ka ng nanay mo sa ashtray” variety), bizarre and stupid. In fact the more idiotic and pointless the gags get, the harder we laugh; clearly Vice Ganda and Wenn Deramas understand the audience on some primal, non-rational level movie critics don’t even know exists.

Why do we laugh when the four title characters, all played by Vice Ganda, encounter each other for the first time as adults, and begin circling a chair in a random game of Trip to Jerusalem? Why do we scream with laughter when Girlie the quadruplet says her father dumped his girlfriend Marie (Ruffa Gutierrez, whom Vice Ganda’s blonde seems to be parodying) because “Araw-gabi, wala siyang panty?” (This makes no sense whatsoever. It is a rhyme from childhood that goes “1-2-3, asawa ni Marie, araw-gabi, etc.”) Why does popcorn shoot out of our nose when a beauty mark turns out be kulangot—all the more amazing because we weren’t eating popcorn?

Girl, Boy, Bakla, Tomboy is already the biggest box-office hit in Philippine movie history, reportedly grossing over 400 million pesos, beating the former record-holder Sisterakas—also a Vice Ganda-Wenn Deramas project, which beat the former record-holder Praybeyt Benjamin, also a Vice-Deramas project. When people wonder why Vice Ganda is the biggest box-office draw in the country, they are being disingenuous. Vice Ganda is funny as hell. Proper old ladies love her. Try arguing with that.

On Saturday we had the first session of Write Here, Write Now, our practical writing workshop at the Ayala Museum. Twenty-one participants were selected from among the applicants who submitted their book proposals and writing samples last year. In December we required everyone to turn in their general outlines and timetables; starting this month they have to submit chapters every week.

One participant dropped out by email, citing time constraints. Tell you what: No one has time. We’re all swamped. Either you invent a time machine, or you find a chunk of time to write every day. The words of our house are: We have no excuses.

One had to take her husband to the hospital. Too late for our advice: Don’t get married or spawn haha.

One had a cold, possibly anxiety-induced. The writing life is fraught with anxiety, build up your resistance.

Two just didn’t show up. If you intend to appear in subsequent sessions, you had better write a heart-wrenching letter to the class because they’ll decide whether you’re still in.

For the first session we had a writing exercise, then we discussed practical matters including the all-important Writing longhand vs Writing on a computer question, and the advantages of writing in noisy public places. Each participant gave an overview of the book they’re writing, and some read samples of work done so far. We quizzed them about their methods and made suggestions which they are free to ignore, provided they know exactly what they want to do.

A large part of our job is to determine what each of them needs to hear, and to say it out loud.

Good work, class. See you in two weeks.

On Sunday we shot a scene for Elwood Perez’s movie, Esoterica. We played an author named Jessica Zafra who was doing a book-signing at Solidaridad Bookshop in Manila; our readers played readers who wanted their books signed. For added authenticity, they brought their own books—some of which we signed over and over again because Elwood had very specific images in mind, requiring many takes. (“Hijo, masyado kang matangkad, masisira ang composition, doon ka sa likod. Feel beautiful! Feel gorgeous!”) Plus we’re terrible at taking direction and ask too many impertinent questions (but NOT “What’s my motivation?”).

After a while we got tired of signing our name and took to signing “Fyodor Dostoevsky”, “Joseph Conrad”, “Edith Wharton” and some others. Many, many, many thanks to the readers who volunteered as extras, remembered their blocking, and did their own slow-motion effects (!). They even got to do a bit of acting (Cue mild outrage!) when two of the movie’s stars, Ronnie Liang and Tessa Celdran, “interrupted” the signing. We’ll post the video as soon as we get it (and they may need you for other scenes so get your imdb pages ready). In the meantime, roll credits:

Zim de la Peña
Christian Paul Ramos
Tyrelle Castillo
Liezle Vasallo
Raquel Isabelle de Guzman
Carlos Enriquez, Jr
Allan Gundran
Ronald Tabalada
Joseph Kua
Edrie Alcanzare
as the readers at the book signing

Jay Lozada, make-up artist

Thanks to F. Sionil Jose and the wonderful staff of Solidaridad (Our monthly visit: done!).

It hit us while we were watching American Hustle, which is based on events that occurred in the 1970s: What if we, the Filipinos who were born during the Marcos regime, stop calling ourselves ‘Martial Law Babies’, which is a terrible legacy we don’t enjoy being associated with, and instead, call ourselves ‘Disco Babies’, after the popular music of our childhood?

We thought of it again when we received an invitation to the UP Third World Studies Center forum entitled ‘Marcos Pa Rin! Ang mga Pamana at Sumpa ng Rehimeng Marcos’. Why must we be shackled to the Marcos regime for the rest of our lives? Are we to be defined in perpetuity by 3,000 pairs of shoes? We were children then. There are enough reminders of the martial law era (Though the public is oblivious); our generation doesn’t have to carry the label.

We hated disco when it was the only thing we could hear, but decades after its heyday we love the big-ness of it: the beats, the hair, the overtly sexual fashions. One might argue that under martial law, disco dancing was a form of protest: the oppressed asserting their freedom, on the dance floor at least.

The Counselor was written by Cormac McCarthy, author of Blood Meridian and No Country for Old Men. In the movie, the character played by Cameron Diaz does something to a Ferrari.

According to a news report, Cormac McCarthy’s ex-wife was arrested over the weekend for pointing a gun at her boyfriend then holstering it someplace unusual.

Thanks to Chus for the alert (Scandalosa!).

Sir Run Run Shaw + Hammer House of Horror = The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires

Run Run Shaw, the billionaire Chinese entertainment tycoon renowned for his kung-fu films, has died at the age of 106.

We love movies and we love bookstores, and now we’re shooting a scene for a movie in a bookstore.

Would you like to be an extra and get your Twisted books signed? We need crowd extras for a scene in Elwood Perez’s latest movie, Esoterica Manila. The scene is a book signing, and we’re playing the author signing her books. Only we are the author signing her books haha.

Be at Solidaridad Bookshop, 531 Padre Faura, Manila, on Sunday, 12 January 2014 at 1pm. The bookshop is closed on Sundays but they will be open on this occasion. Bring your Twisted books for us to inscribe (We’re not sure the shop has stocks left). No acting required; we’re all playing ourselves. Okay, maybe we’ll oppress you a little and summon security if you linger, but it’ll be a scream. Bring your friends, the more the crazier.