Philippine Speculative Fiction (5 page)

But one look at the clean-shaven, prosperously plump Bulan—when I met him, he was standing at the bottom of the grand staircase with Madirawen, his ephemerally beautiful star, and shaking
the hands and kissing the enormous rings of his guests of honor—revealed that he seemed unfazed by the riot outside. Enjoying himself, even.

“This kind of attention is a sign that my work is being paid attention to at all,” he said, gesturing to the picketers beyond the CCP complex with the curious dancer’s grace
that won him the Grand Prize at the Philippine National Ballroom Competition just last month. In fact, whether he was climbing up a flight of stairs or readjusting the trademark checkered scarf
donned over his black barong, it appeared as though the eccentric playwright-director were dancing on a floor of clouds.

Bulan had to raise his voice to be heard above chants of
‘tao lang, tao lamang!’
(‘humans only, only human!’), adding with a smile, “Of course
naman
, you can’t expect everyone to like what you do.
Ganoon talaga ang buhay
(Such is life). But you see, those people are disturbed by my work. When they are disturbed,
that means they’ve heard of it. And when they’ve heard of it, then I’d say half the battle has been won.
O ‘di ba
(You see)?”

The two-time Palanca winner is best known for his spectacle-heavy retellings and musical adaptations of other (human) epics around the country, such as the Ilocano
Biag ni Lam-Ang
, the
Bicolano
Ibalon
, a few chapters of the
Darangen
of the Maranao, and most famously, the Visayan
Hinilawod.

Noladi
will mark the first time interest has been shown in any artistic work of any medium belonging to one of the Mythic Peoples.

“
Ito na ata ang aking
masterpiece (This may be my masterpiece),” Bulan said of the production, which took over five years to piece together. “I think every play I did
before this one was just a training ground. If I suddenly had to retire from theater after this, I think
masaya na ako
(I would be happy).”

Runs like clockwork

LIKE SOMETHING STRAIGHT out of a movie, the inspiration for adapting
Noladi
had been hanging over the 47-year-old director like a fine cobweb since he was 16. Bulan
recounted dreaming of wading through a vast lake and encountering a humongous white horse standing in the water. The horse promptly vanished when he approached, but Bulan said, “it’s
been galloping through my mind ever since, as if I’d really been bewitched by a Tikbalang.”

Noladi
’s 17 chapters revolve around the central character Noladi, a female Tikbalang who unknowingly humiliates the sea god Haik by leading him astray from his daily duties and
driving him insane, the way she would an ordinary human being. Cursed with humanity but having retained every ounce of her cunning, Noladi goes on a rollicking journey—rivalling that of Don
Quixote in both scale and comedy—to the far ends of the archipelago on a quest to regain her true form. Along the way, she accidentally starts wars, brings down kingdoms, and incurs the wrath
of several goddesses and Diwata jealous of her beauty and envious of a long train of pining mortal suitors.

The epic is traditionally performed when the sun is out and there is rain—the perfect condition for a Tikbalang wedding. Though such showers are rare and quick, the epic is chanted in its
entirety. The feat may sound impossible until one remembers that time runs differently for mythics.

What also seemed impossible until now was Bulan’s ability to condense two or three chapters into one show, depending on individual length. Each show in the production’s three-month
run consists of two or three episodes, to be continued the following night. Decidedly ambitious, but no less is expected from the man who retold the
Hinilawod
as a gang war story set in
Cebu and Manila in five lengthy acts.

This is not all. In an act that will make this stage play closer to a movie than anything that has gone before it, Bulan has confirmed that—with the graciousness of the Duwende (dwarves)
working behind the scenes—the main stage at the CCP will become deeper than ever before. This will allow for scenes taking place upon and within actual seas, forests, and mountains.

The play’s demanding requirements, however, do not appear to be taking a toll on the production crew, who keep things running like clockwork, Bulan divulged.

“There are a thousand and one things I would not have been able to achieve had I stuck to human-made props,” said Bulan of the set.
“Kahit gaano pang ka-
elaborate
yung
design,
parang yung mga kay
Ely (No matter how elaborate the design, like those of Ely’s), humans can only make imperfect copies of things. This is the closest
we’re going to get to reality—sure, there may be more dangers, but that is exactly where the thrill lies!

“Maybe the walkout of Ely and the old crew was one of the better things that happened to this production,” Bulan concluded, referring to former Production Head and some-time best
friend, Elysia Bernardino.

“
Nasa aming bahay ang Ama kong sinusumpong, kaya’t ako na lang daw muna ang bahala sa set ngayong gabi
(Father’s bad mood has left me in charge of the set
tonight),” said a young Duwende, who refused to give her name.
“Kung nandito si Ama, sasabihin niya sa iyo na walang kabutihang mapapala sa dulang ito—ngunit para sa akin,
nasisiyahan ako na sa wakas, may pagkakataon ang tao na intindihin ang buhay ng isang hiwaga gaya nang Tikbalang. Baka sa susunod, epiko naman ng Duwende ang igaganap
(My father would say no
good will come of this play—but I am happy that humans will get to understand the life of a mythic like the Tikbalang. Maybe next time, a Duwende epic will be staged).”

Bulan also had fool-proof seatbelts installed into each and every seat in the theater, just in case any of the guests grow enamoured and wish to follow for eternity any of the glamor-coated
Tikbalang who make up the majority of the cast.

Other additions include having Diwata (fairies) soundproof the entire theater, and a dozen balete trees each bearing Kapre (tree giants) replanted, two to each entrance around the
complex—just in case the protesters storm the performance. Electric fans and haggard but dutiful shifts of maintenance crew have been stationed near the trees to ward off the potent smell of
Kapre cigars and keep the sidewalk clear of rising black ash mounds.

“
Oo, nakakabato itong ginagawa namin
(Yes, this is boring),” said one of the hulking Kapre guarding the main entrance.
“Pero higit pa sa sapat ang ipinangakong
bayad ni Bulan
(But Bulan’s promised salary more than makes up for it).”

He would not reveal what the payment was, however, preferring to leer infuriatingly and tip ash onto the concrete when pressed further. A timid maintenance woman standing next to the tree
hurriedly swept the ash, refusing to do so much as look at this reporter, let alone spare a comment.

Dancing to his tune

MADIRAWEN, A TIKBALANG whose bamboo grove can be found in a forest in Tarlac, will be playing the titular role—both the human and Tikbalang versions.

Those who have never experienced Tikbalang glamor, such as myself, will no doubt have a hard time remembering that Madirawen’s glowing brown skin, chocolate eyes, glossy black hair, and
hourglass figure is just that—glamor. Her breathtaking looks, considered the paragon of Malay beauty these days, makes the most gorgeous of local TV stars seem dowdy; I don’t want to
think about how average-looking women appear next to her.

Two hours before her stunning appearance at the bottom of the staircase with Bulan, Madirawen agreed to sit down for an interview with
The Archipelago Daily
. Out of courtesy, she had
already swapped her horsey head for her human countenance.

“
Mahirap makisabay kay Direk
(It’s hard keeping up with Director Bulan),” said Madirawen.
“Dati-rati, iniiba ko yung mukha ko araw-araw—madalas,
isang
starlet
o
contestant
ng isang
beauty pageant,
‘di ko matandaan ang kanilang mga pangalan. Ngunit, mabuti na lang Tikbalang ako, kayang-kaya ko magpalit ng
anyo.
(I had different forms every rehearsal, usually some starlet or beauty pageant contestant whose names I forget. But luckily, being a Tikbalang, changing forms is not a problem).

“
Hindi kukulang sa lubos na kahusayan ang hinihiling ni Direk sa buong produksyon
(Direk demands perfection from the entire production),” she added.
“Na hindi
naman kakayanin ng tao—dahil dito, umalis ang karamihan sa nakaraang
cast
at
crew.
Ngunit hindi iyon sumagabal kay Direk
(Humans can’t deliver perfection, so many
of the previous members left. But that did not stop Direk).”

The change of cast began when Cheryl Gazmen of
Primetime Tonight
fame and Samson Marquez (
The Unbearable Brightness of Seeing
(2010),
Hara-kiri
(2012)), dropped out of
their roles as Noladi and seventh suitor Datu Dalang, respectively; the former due to a difficult pregnancy and the latter, creative differences.

After this, Bulan suspended rehearsals and travelled to the vast northern fields of Pampanga and Tarlac—for what purpose, no one knew at the time. Madirawen shared that he roamed those
same fields like a madman for a month, often seen speaking to horses. It was in such a state that he chanced upon her in her solitary bamboo grove, she said. Strangely enough, he bowed and asked
her to dance with him.

When pressed as to how Bulan persuaded her to accept the part, Madirawen put on an enigmatic smile.
“Sinabi sa akin ni Direk na kailangan may mga sinisikreto ang isang aktres. Hindi
ako
professional
na aktres, pero gusto kong isipin na totoo pa rin ito para sa akin. Isang malaking dangal para sa akin na gaganapin ko ang isang napaka-importanteng nilalang sa kasaysayan
ng mga Tikbalang
(Direk told me actresses need secrets. I am not a professional, but I would like to think that this applies to me, too. It is an honor just playing an important figure in
Tikbalang history).”

An ounce of humanity

VERY FEW PEOPLE in the crew and in the human cast of characters will actually be portrayed by humans—among whom numbers Nathan Quiroz, chiselled young clothing model, lead
singer of alt-rock band Pizza Sushi, and son of Malacañang’s premier folklorist and Secretary for the Department of Mythic Affairs, Dr. Nadia Pilapil-Quiroz.

His uncle, internationally-renowned composer Aldrin Quizon Quiroz (who could not be reached for comment as of press time), wrote the music and lyrics for
Noladi.

A little trivia: Quiroz and his mother are descended from Zenaida Pilapil, the purported
mangkukulam
(witch) who made a deal with the Mythic Tribunal for aid against the Spanish in
1897, thus making them more visible to humans. Despite this one-time partnership, many people still fear and misunderstand the mythics, the traditional enemies—some would say hunters—of
humans. Many mythics, in turn, have retreated into their respective homes in favor of their old way of life.

Though these little details were not lost on Quiroz, he takes a rather unique attitude when it comes to mythics—one that complements that of his rumored inamorato, Bulan.

“Thanks to Mama’s work, fascinated
na ako sa Tikbalang at iba pang mga hiwaga noong bata pa ako (
I was already fascinated with mythic beings as a kid),” said Quiroz,
who will bring to life Prinsipe Makisig, the first of Noladi’s ten suitors.
“Pero
she never let me speak to her clients.
Hindi ko ma-
pass up
yung
opportunity
na ‘to para maka-
get to know
ng kahit isang Tikbalang.
(I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get to know even just one Tikbalang).

“
Isang katutak na
energy drink
at
good night’s sleep
lang ang katapat niyan
(All you need are energy drinks and a good night’s sleep),” was the
24-year-old’s answer to whether or not the production was fatiguing to an inhumane degree.
“Oo, sobrang nakakapagod siya, pero anong trabaho ang hindi ganoon
(It’s
tiring, but what job isn’t)?”

When asked what it was like working with mythics, Quiroz had this to say,
“Sobrang layo sa
depiction
nila sa mga sinaunang
textbooks
at pamahiin
(They are not
like how textbooks and superstitions describe them to be). Super nice
naman si
Madirawen—
mas may
class
pa nga sa ibang mga babaeng tao na nakilala ko
(Madirawen is
nice, she has more class than some human girls).”

His comment is not surprising, considering that during Pizza Sushi concerts, some fans have been known to throw panties onstage.

A cha-cha with insanity

AS EXPECTED, MANY of Bulan’s colleagues and contemporaries from the local art and theater scenes are vehemently opposed to his project of epic proportions—not least
of them the former members of his production, who were rumored to have been overworked and underpaid. But perhaps the most interesting member of the latter is Bulan’s former best friend and
Head of Production Design, multi-awarded Elysia Bernardino.

Bernardino, who uses her marvelously knobby, blue-veined hands in grandiose gestures when she speaks, unwittingly staged a mutiny when in her own walk-out, she was followed by many of the
stagehands, sound engineers, makeup artists. Mutineers included National Artist for Theater props designer Simplicio Dimaculangan and his team, and even multi-awarded costume designer, Maricris
Lobelia.

“
Hesus,
I didn’t mean any of that,” she said in an exclusive interview granted to
The Archipelago Daily
at her private residence Friday. “How the hell
was I supposed to know they were just looking for an excuse to leave?”