Book: Lola, a Ghost Story

“Jesse sees dead people, monsters, demons, and lots of other things that go bump in the night. Things that no one else can see. No one except his ailing grandmother — a woman who used her visions to help those living in her small town. The same rural community in all the scary stories Jesse’s heard as a child. Man-eating ogres in trees. Farmhouses haunted by wraiths. Even pigs possessed by the devil. Upon his grandmother’s passing, Jesse has no choice but to face his demons… and whatever else might be awaiting him at Lola’s house.“

If one was to judge a book by its cover, you would say that this book isn’t scary at all. And you would be right. Because I don’t think the intent behind this book was to scare. At any capacity. Which makes me wonder–what exactly was the purpose behind Lola: A Ghost Story?

The story is nice. Unfortunately, it’s just that– Nice. It’s not groundbreaking in any way. Nor is it very original.

It’s a story designed to pull at the heartstrings, but only manages a few tugs before giving up.

It’s a story that sets up a world it has no intention of visiting again.

But it’s very likeable. Which, I think, has more to do with the art than the actual story. Because looking back at it now, asking myself what I liked in the book… I’m drawing a blank.

Well, that’s not true. I really liked the art. The story though, I feel, was a wasted opportunity.

Writer Torres sets out to tell one story, a visit to the Philippines mitigated by the death of the title character: the grandmother. It weaves stories about said grandmother to tell the reader how special she was. But the actual story happens at present, at the wake her grandson from Canada is forced to attend. And his story doesn’t really connect with the grandmother save for the fact that they share the same gift: the ability to see visions–and talk to dead people.

Something we don’t really get to explore much.

We get teases of it, sure. And the actual story does deal with one ghost. But juxtaposed with the more fantastical stories about the grandmother–the main plot falls flat.

And then we get to the ending with its vision of the future.

Closing the book, I had to ask–what was the point of the ending? And then, as I type this, I followed this up with, what was the point of the whole story? Is it about acceptance? About destiny? About faith?

Whatever the story may be about, it remained unclear and unrealized.

But the art was really nice.

Of course, I could be looking at this the wrong way. Someone out there might have been able to discern why this book is good. So let’s see what other people said about the book:
One Metal
Comic Book Resources
Kat in Books

Book: Zombinoy #4

“Zombie apocalyptic, big-time, end-of-the-world scenario of biblical proportions. Pinoy style.“

And so we begin the second “season” of Zombinoy, where the first issue alone has more happening than the whole of the first season combined. Well, that’s not completely true, but it sure does feel like it.

I think the problem with the first three issues was that the people behind Zombinoy wanted to create the world first, to introduce the characters and the zombie plague at the same time. I don’t know why, but I think it may be because they wanted readers to connect to the characters first. Having read Issue #4, I don’t think they had to.

Issue #4 has us facing the problem of zombies in our land, with the Americans very gung-ho about helping us because of nefarious reasons. Prior to this, we had a lot of government drama that tiptoed around this issue. I think #4 had the better execution, as you’re seeing things in action while discovering that things are not what they seem.

The characters feel more real too, even though “screen time” is more spread out. At first, I attributed it to the fact that I’ve read the first three issues. I already know these characters. But that’s not exactly true. Zombinoy, while a brilliant idea, wasn’t completely remarkable nor was it unforgettable. The characters in this issue really lived and breathe, that despite not knowing who they were before, you already have a sense of who they are as a person.

The writing’s brilliant, actually. It shows just how much writer Geonard Yleana had grown from the time he wrote the first three issues to now.

I’m still not a fan of the art though. This is more personal preference though, as I’m not exactly an artist. It’s just that–the glossiness of the drawings and the shadings doesn’t fit with the world they’re trying to build. The Philippines is going to hell, and it’s presented in the cleanest way possible.

It’s a little jarring.

But it’s not something you can’t get over. Especially with a story as strong as the one presented here in the fourth issue. And if Yleana continues to grow, I can’t wait to see what he (and the rest of the Zombinoy team) has in store for us next issue.

Television: Doctor Who and Hide

“Clara and the Doctor arrive at Caliburn House, a haunted mansion sat alone on a desolate moor. Within its walls, a ghost hunting Professor and a gifted psychic are searching for the Witch of the Well. Her apparition appears throughout the history of the building, but is she really a ghost? And what is chasing her?“

Now that’s more like it.

In this episode of Doctor Who, we go ghost-hunting with the Doctor and Clara–and we sort of make a move towards solving what Clara is. Or isn’t. Not that we get an answer. Of course not. It’s not the finale yet. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Instead, let’s go back to the beginnings of the episode.

So, we have a Professor and his assistant trying to find out the identity of an apparition inside a scary old manor. It’s properly creepy, so hat’s off to everyone in the production, and it sets the mood of the rest of the episode. Did I already mention that it’s properly creepy? Well, let’s take it up a notch and put it in the scary category.

It’s scary.

And then, of course, the Doctor arrives.

Neil Cross, the writer of the episode, has chosen an exceptional mode of storytelling for this episode–which frustrated me at the beginning as I’ve gotten used to the Doctor explaining something, appearing somewhere, before the story actually begins. In this episode, the story is already underway, and the starting point was the Christmas episode.

That might have been a spoiler, but I’m not telling what it spoils. Anyway, by episode’s end, you’ll have a clear understanding of why the Doctor chose to go to this place at this point in time. ‘Chose’ being the operative word.

What I particularly like in this episode is that we get a well-plotted and well-paced story, and still manage to get the (half-)season story arc moving forward. I’m hoping next week’s episode will propel it further on, but I’m good with what we got this week. Even if it’s just to say that the writers have not forgotten what’s going on, and the circumstances of where the Doctor is currently.

Also, the acting was exceptional in this episode. Matt Smith continues to amaze as he jumps to and fro a multitude of emotions in a matter of seconds. I especially like how he played the scene, where he’s alone in the misty forest–yes, the one in the trailer–and says that he is the Doctor, and he is afraid. There are layers in his delivery there, horror on top of sadness on top of frustration and anger, and at the bottom of it all, there’s still the frenzy of him trying to figure a way out of his current predicament.

Now, that’s layered acting.

Jenna-Louise Coleman was also great this time ’round; there’s much more for her to do, and more for her character to explore. This story fit her better than last week’s Cold War does. Definitely.

As for the episode’s end–

Well, let’s just say I’m willing to embrace it. This is Doctor Who after all. And the episode delivered the chills it promised anyway, so I don’t mind how it ended. In a way, it’s a bit fitting too. One happy ending before we delve into the center of the TARDIS next week.

Television: Aso ni San Roque, the Finale

It all began, simply enough, with a love story. Mateo, our male lead, is training to be a police officer when he meets the enigmatic Lualhati. They fall in love. And then, one night, Lualhati is taken from him by manananggals. Mateo is left for dead, but Lualhati is revealed to be a manananggal as well–one who is trying to escape her destiny.

What Lualhati didn’t know, then, was that during the short time she and Mateo were together, they had managed to create a child. Having not been turned into a full-fledged manananggal yet, Lualhati kept her pregnancy a secret. But she knows that, because manananggals feed on fetuses, she cannot hide her secret from the others for long. She plots to escape.

And so begins a journey that was prophecized to end with the death of all aswangs.

I am very fond of Aso ni San Roque, and not just because I’m part of the creative team. It might not seem like much, and I’m sure people will find a lot of fault with the series, but for me–it’s perfect.

Okay, maybe not perfect. I can nitpick with the best of them.

But after One True Love, this is the first project I’ve been part of where we were allowed to challenge the tropes–to turn the tried-and-tested twists around. One of which will happen this week, as the program comes to a close. We had good guys turn into conflicted villains, and then we had a villain who actually chose to help out the good guys–because it’s most beneficial to her, we had surprise characters that actually moved the story along–

And it’s not every day you can have an apocalypse in a Filipino soap opera.

Then there’s the challenges that the creative team (and the equally wonderful and hardworking production team) had to contend with: budget overshoots, bad weather, illness, etcetera. Story arcs had to be lengthened and shortened, new characters had to be added to the story to accommodate contractual obligations–every creative meeting had a new concern that needed addressing.

Aso ni San Roque is not perfect in anyway, and I don’t want to say it’s the best we could do. It’s not. But I’m still proud of the show we were able to produce–proud of what we were able to accomplish despite of the many challenges.

And because we pretty much were given free reign on how to wrap the show up, I’d recommend tuning in. It’s going to be one hell of a finale week.

Movie: Shake Rattle & Roll 14

Shake Rattle & Roll is a long-running film franchise that’s seen a lot of ups and downs.

I remember, as a kid, how scared I was of the films. And then, as I grew older, it’s become less creepy and more cheesy. It didn’t help that when Regal Films decided to bring it back in 2005, they chose a comedienne to headline the comeback. Combine that with less-than-stellar effects, and you get a film that many will watch–but no one will really like.

But that’s not to say that the franchise had completely lost its hold on horror. Since its resurrection, Shake Rattle & Roll has produced a few gems: There’s the Yaya and LRT episode of the 8th film, featuring serious (and grounded) acting that made the fantastic seem plausible; there’s Class Picture and Nieves from the tenth installment, which had a great mix of horror and comedy; Punerarya from the 2010 edition, which had a great mix of acting, scripting, directing, lighting and music; and then there’s Parola from last year, a barebones story that was told really well.

I subscribe to the belief that Shake Rattle & Roll will produce at least one good story every year. And this year, that one story is the first of the three in the fourteenth installment: Pamana.

Pamana tells the story of a family who inherits a fortune from a little known relative. One of the heirs is excited to discover that he is related to a once popular horror comics writer/artist, not so the rest of the relatives. Told to care for the deceased’s four masterpieces, two of the heirs decide to dump the drawings as soon as they are out of the solicitor’s sight. The other two decide to keep their new wards.

If you think these masterpieces will play into the story, you’re right. But not in the way you think. The drawings are quickly forgotten when the horror characters their dead relatives come to life–without explanation of where they came from. (And no, in case you’re asking, they didn’t come from the drawings.) The rest of the story plays out classic Pinoy horror style, with the family getting trapped inside a house and killed by the monsters one by one, with only a few survivors not realizing taht they’re taking the monster out of its prison and out into the world.

Why do I say it’s good? Because it’s entertaining. When a horror story has become confused with its own plot and history, that’s the only thing you can look out for: entertainment value. In this story, it’s Janice de Belen’s larger than life character that steals every scene. Even after realizing you hate her character, you can’t help but wish she survives just because she’s the only character with actual personality.

And then there’s Fabio Ide. Whoever thought to cast him as a lovestruck vampire was a genius. He draws the most laughs with his line delivery. Just imagine it: a Brazilian trying to speak Tagalog with fangs. It’s hilarious.

What came next though was disappointing;

The Lost Command is about a group of soldiers with no clear mission traipsing in the woods. They are cut off from their base because their radio couldn’t pick up any signals, and then they have an encounter with weird people in the woods. People who have a gray pallor and are super fast.

They’re supposed to be zombies, but you’d be confused. They don’t look dead–instead, they look like people who fell into vats of ashes. And the fact that they’re super fast goes against the idea of the undead. They’re rotting corpses, moving fast would only hasten their decomposition.

If you take it as a zombie story, The Lost Command would make more sense. Then, it would just be about a group of soldiers fighting to stay alive. But if you take out the zombie aspect, which is what this story did, it’s just a jumbled mess of soldiers fighting against super soldiers who want to eat them.

It’s not scary, it’s disgusting. And it’s not even entertaining as the whole thing just drags.

And then Unwanted begins.

The last story features a couple who had just found out that they’re expecting. The girl has decided that she wants an abortion, because she has plans of migrating and stuff. The guy, while disagreeing, knows he cannot sway her decision. They go to the mall to pick up a gift for the guy’s parents, and then something crashes into the mall.

That’s where the story ends. The rest of the production plays out like a video game in which characters are just moving through wreckage to find the exit and survive. Our main character moves from location to location (and can I just say that the whole set does not look like a decimated mall? It looks like a set), meets new characters who are quickly killed off, and then survives–to find out that the world as he knew it no longer exists.

It would have been okay, I think, had we gotten decent actors. But no. Aside from Vhong Navarro, Lovi Poe, and Carlo Aquino, the rest of the cast seemed to have embraced the fact that they are red shirts. Cannon fodders. No one really acted and most spewed dialogues that didn’t make sense because something else happened.

I mean, does telling someone that they’d go back for a fallen comrade after seeing said comrade devoured by a monster sound smart to you? I don’t care if it was in the script, but this film was dubbed after the edits. (And the character who delivered the dialogue was also the one to say that their comrade was devoured, later on.) How difficult was it to take out the dialogue? Or to dub it differently?

Leaving the cinema, everyone was abuzz–about how disappointing this year’s Shake Rattle & Roll was.