Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to say I am a published
author once again! My 15-page article on mad Filipino satires is in the latest
bound issue of one of my favourite US magazines, Mike White's Cashiers
Du Cinemart. To read the entire rant where I wax lyrical about Dolphy's James
Batman, Chiquito, the Pinoy Bruce Lees and James Bonds, Tintoy, Niño Muhlach
and (of course) Weng Weng, please click HERE:
"The Great Manila Cinema Heist!" A Brief History
of Philippine Parody and Outright Thievery In The Country That Copyright Forgot,
Part One by Andrew Leavold
[The entire article appears in Cashiers Du Cinemart #17
(October 2012)]
INTRODUCTION: I still remember watching my first exploitation classic from
the Philippines,
the midget James Bond spoof For Y’ur Height Only (1981), almost twenty years
ago. Over the astounding course of the ratty VHS tape’s running time our 2 foot
9 inch hero Agent 00 played by Weng Weng, a curious little brown creature with
a receding Ramones bowl cut and an all-white suit and trick straw boater hat,
cracks an international drug ring, gets the girl, loses the girl (“Irmaaaaa!”)
and infiltrates the secret lair of evil criminal mastermind Mr Giant (played,
appropriately enough, by a dwarf named Goliath!), all with an armful of miniature
gadgets and his signature move of punching someone in the balls, then running
between their legs.
It’s not just the novelty of seeing a Filipino midget
pretending to be a gun expert and ladies’ man, or the inexplicable thrill of
watching bad (and I mean BAD) kung fu movies. Maybe it’s the mad vision of a Manila caught in a
perpetual Seventies twilight of bad disco, Marlborough Man mustaches, flared
collars and equally-flared nostrils. Absurd, tangential logic abounds, as does
the knee-jerk colonial impulse to subvert AND embrace their dominant Western
culture simultaneously. For me, For Y’ur Height Only rammed a point home with a
vengeance, that the Philippines' relationship with Hollywood is a strange
mixture of awe and loathing; beneath the Hello Joe's you're not sure if they're
trying to steal your jeans or stick you in the ribs with their balisong blade.
An outsider will never know precisely where the awe ends and the loathing
begins. On the surface at least there's a playfulness, an anarchic and gleefully
deranged rearranging of pop motifs for amusing and delirious effect. It should
add up, but doesn’t. And it doesn’t matter, for whatever the reasons, the Philippines
B-film can be as addictive as their local crack known as “shiboo”, and the hit
lasts a lifetime.
Once I started travelling to the Philippines and began to
wade through the morass of unexplored Tagalog language B films, I soon
discovered that Weng Weng was just the top balancer's toupee on the enormous
human pyramid of parodists, and there existed an culture unfamiliar and
fundamentally unfathomable to the rest of the world: one of wholesale,
guilt-free and consequence-free commandeering of global and local pop
iconography via clever counterfeiting, relentless lampooning or direct theft. Unlike
their Turkish counterparts, Filipino filmmakers were never so brazen as to
steal entire sections of footage and edit it without shame into their own
knockoffs of Star Trek or The Empire Strikes Back. In the Philippines, musical
cues, theme songs, story ideas, characters and titles were nevertheless all up
for grabs, either stolen without a thought paid to the copyright holders, or
fed through the Pinoy Pop Culture mincing machine (“Pinoy” being the colloquial
term for “Filipino”), to emerge as a mutant-looking amalgam or queer
multi-hatted hybrid. Despite being signatories to the Berne Convention since
1950, the tyranny of distance and cost of mounting court proceedings in a
foreign country gave free rein to these scoundrels and opportunists, or Dadaists
and post-modern revolutionaries, depending upon your political persuasion,
taste for adventure, and personal limits of patience and perseverance.
Humour never travels well. Sady, much of the Philippines' cinema prior to the mid-80s is lost
forever, and those few Filipino comedies that have made it beyond the Philippines'
borders, dubbed poorly and thus losing much of their raison d’etre in the
transition, have done so for the most bizarre reasons and under the most
freakish of circumstances. That leaves the bulk of their comedies unreleased to
the outside world and not subtitled, making their puns, wordplay, cultural
references and mangled English (beyond the conventional mix of English and
Tagalog known as "Taglish") completely incomprehensible.
Then there's the recognition factor that's lost on us
foreigners, the delight in watching sometimes decades-old schtick, which often
requires some comedians to be left on the shelf long past their use-by date.
More so than parody, much of Philippine comedy is of the romantic or domestic
variety, sticky and sickly sentimental, and centring on family
misunderstandings, teen love affairs, hen-pecked husbands and screeching
mothers-in-law, but countered by a streak of derision and decidedly un-PC
cruelty, aimed at taking childish glee at the differences of the
"other". This translates roughly to a carnival-like atmosphere, in
which audiences gawp at the grotesquely fat, emaciated, freakishly tall, small,
toothless, bald, screamingly effeminate, stooped, stuttering, cross-eyed,
brown- or black-skinned and, by Filipino standards, plain ugly...
TO ORDER A HARD COPY OF THE ISSUE, PLEASE CLICK HERE
"Cashiers du Cinemart 17 authors: Jef Burnham, Jason
Coffman, Chris Cummins, Skizz Cyzyk, Jim Donahue, Ralph Elawani, Mike Faloon,
Paul Freitag, Joshua Gravel, Josh Hadley, Kristy Jett, Zachary Kelley, Andrew
Leavold, Scott Lefebvre, David MacGregor, Mike Malloy, Bob Moricz, Rich Osmond,
James Sanford, Calum Syers, Mike Sullivan, Dan Tabor, Don Takano, and Mike
White with cover art by Tom Bagley. This issue boasts features about Filipino
exploitation films, Chuck Vincent, Andy Sidaris, Gaspar Noé, Brad Dourif, and
Pierre Maheu and more including interviews with Sid Haig, Keith Shapiro, Eli
Craig, Louie Bonnano, Peter Filardi, and many more. And, don’t miss
appreciations of films as diverse as After Last Season, The Touch of Her Flesh,
Blood Sucking Freaks, Dream Home, and Eat My Dust."
1991 - Little Boy Blue, Tiny Terrestrial (Cypress Film International Inc)
[Release date 25th January 1991; released on Viva Video in the US as “Tiny Terrestrial: The Filipino ET”]
Director Eddie Reyes Story/Screenplay Joey de Leon, Tony Y. Reyes President/Executive Producer Ding L. Nacpil Cinematography Oscar Querijero Music Mon del Rosario Editor Rene Tala Sound Supervision Albert Rima Sound Effects Ramon Reyes Assistant Director Gerry Reyes Production Manager Renato S. Nacpil Dubbing Directors Vangie Labalan, Evelyn Loreto, Baby Bracamonte, Carmen Serafin Gaffer Rey Trinidad Stills Larry Olleta Legman John “Valoney” Mascarina Makeup Artist Naty Valdez Propsman Mariano Torrente Setman Raymundo Torrente Effectsman Freddie Fajardo Video Cameraman Bayani Francisco Script Writer Tony Pascua Layout Artist Nonong de Andres T.T. Creation Artist Arthur Nicdao
BUKANG LIWAYWAY UNIT 1 Priscila M. Talavera Assistant Cameraman Antonio Trinidad Soundman Rolly Donozo Electrician Arnel Donozo Generatorman Eddie Ilocso Boom Man Romy Bello Crew DJ Manalaysay, Bernan Mendiola, Danny Tendilla, Criseldo Ilocso Unit Driver Boots de la Cruz Space Capsule Creation Kenkoy Torrente Space Capsule Caretakers Danny Torrente, Leonilo Villamayor Wardrobe Caretaker Adel S. Nacpil Caretaker Agrifina de Jesus, Alice de Jesus, Nene Blantucas Utility Men Arnel Nacpil, Jun Gatpayat, Alex Ordonez, Ricky Ordonez Service Drivers Ruben de Jesus, Eddie Razote, Bondat Esguerra
Cast Atong Redillas (Ato), Jay-Are Reyes (Empoy), Jen-Jen Otico (Neneng), Luz Fernandez (Lola Panchang), Lou Veloso (Professor Galileo), Cutie del Mar (Professor Delgado), Joaquin Fajardo (Crocodile Danding), Boy Matias (Little Boy Blue), Nonong de Andres (Nonong), Rene Tupaz (Rene), Jun de Guia (Goon 1), Nemie Gutierez (Goon 2), Botchok Agustin (Goon 3), Danny Labra (Bogart), Torling (Torling), Joey Galvez (Professor Zarate), Mildred Reyes (Mildred), Arlene Raymundo (Miss Raymundo), Esmerelda Testo (Miss Testa), Gin-Gin (Mahal), Tony Pascua (Mang Tonyo), Mayor Conrad Lamano (Teacher), Arnold Sayson (Attendant 1), Ronald Sayson (Attendant 2), Rolly Miranda (Security Guard), Enciong Reyes (Neighbourhood), Joey de Leon (Professor Presto), Rene Requiestas (Stallone), Richie D’Horsie (Kuya Freddie), Noel Ayala (Ungga), Rene Johnson (Gay)
Review by Andrew Leavold
We here at Bamboo Gods like to dig deep. Deeeeeep. So when Little Boy Blue suddenly appeared on the radar out of nowhere, believe me it’s an obscure one: a childish Catholic-laced E.T. ripoff from the Philippines, featuring a large blueberry that’s been molested by a Teletubby. Painful, infuriating, and at times like trying to stop a runaway bus with your teeth, it is nevertheless lovably dumb and, as far as lovably dumb Pinoy parodies go, one of the dumbest.
A squat stopper-shaped spaceship is spotted over Batangas, practically over the heads of three pre-teen cousins living in a simple nearby barrio. After their extended prayers – this is a devout Catholic family, you’ll need to remember - the kids beg their grandmother Panchang to tell stories of aliens – unbeknownst to them, at the same time the strange craft lands in the jungle. Aliens, says Panchang, descend from the heavens to punish the wicked. Just like Jesus, or, come to think of it, like Santa Claus. Back in the jungle the spaceship opens and out bounces a round rubber blue thing covered in squid suckers, and it takes refuge in the kids’ barn. The two young boys, Ato and the twitchy Empoy, are woken by strange sounds and uncover the creature scoffing the family corn. And what a creature it is: a head somewhere between a Gremlin and bloated Yoda atop a furry scrotum and Big Bird feet. And blue: all fluro blue, and emitting sounds like a mid-butchered veal (“Nyip! Nyip! Nyip!”). They argue over what to call it. “Do you remember the film ‘Extra Terrestrial?’” asks Ato. Tiny Terrestrial, they agree, or TT for short. “You’re just jealous,” they yell at their female cousin Neneng, the Drew Barrymore of this bizarre parallel universe, “that we have a TT [“titi” being Tagalog slang for penis] and you don’t.” They also settle on Little Boy Blue, and Neneng bonds with the gentle creature by pressing her finger lightly against TT’s rubber prong. It’s a touching scene in more ways than one, aiming for the emotion of Spielberg’s original but marred somewhat by TT’s high pitched bleating.
Of course you can’t have an ET clone without the meddling adult scientists, and at alien research group PAGNANASA’s headquarters, pretty young scientist Dr Delgado (and by young, I mean seventeen or eighteen) runs TT’s craft through a battery of tests. She believes the ship has emerged from inner space, not outer, and may be a relic from the lost city of Atlantis, thus proving the ranting renegade Dr Galileo’s theories correct. In Little Boy Blue there’s much discussion about Plato, and how the destruction of Atlantis is comparable to the fall of Sodom and Gomorrah. Huh? Don’t worry, it makes more sense soon… Dr Delgado’s limp-wristed boss Zarate orders her to head a team to capture the alien and perform further experiments. Her final analysis: TT is “gentle and very easy to love”. In another section of the scientific community the insane Galileo pays a goon squad headed by “Crocodile” Danding to kidnap Little Boy Blue and show the world just how sane he really is. Try to find the creature, however – TT spends much of his Earth time running around the village draped in a sheet or at the nearsighted Grandma Panchang’s house learning how Jesus is “God to all peoples”. Before you can say “Hail Mary” he’s kissing rosary beads and crossing himself, and in the film’s most uncomfortable moment, has a religious epiphany whilst comparing his own suffering to a wooden Jesus on a crucifix. You can imagine when he returns triumphantly to his home planet, like a round blue Conquistador, there are going to be conversions a-plenty.
A lame-duck Sunday School pantomime, or a Spielberg spoof that landed eight years too late? I’m having money each way. For all its inherent absurdity and ecumenical leanings, Little Boy Blue is a feeble-minded effort, a throwaway project clearly written on the hoof by the team who brought you the (ahem) superior Alyas Batman En Robin. I’d say it’s an easy bet that Joey de Leon and Tony Reyes don’t even remember flipping this cheap quickie off; at the time, writer/director Reyes and comedian Joey were the busiest creative unit in Filipino comedy, clocking in at around ten features each per year, and considered the top box office draw of 1989. Not everything they touch turned to gold, however, but they certainly give it the old Quezon City try, and for marquee value Joey phones in a cameo as PAGNANASA’s Professor Presto (he’s been peering at Venus – not the planet but his new secretary, fnyar fnyar). The usual suspects are rounded up and given their regulation two minutes of screen time: toothless and heartbroken Rene Requiestas is a barrio bum named Stallone who sees little blue monsters even before his first sip of Tanduay, and TVJ’s regular sidekick Richie D’Horsie strums a tasteful song about dying of cancer.
The film’s major flaws are its leaden pacing courtesy of director Eddie Reyes (son? Brother? Of Tony), its sledgehammer morality, and discomforting attempts at toilet humour aimed at an older demographic than its intended audience of under-tens. None of this is meant as harsh criticism, of course, and the gaping wounds are an essential part of its charm. When I use words like “unbearable”, I mean it with a father’s love for his hopelessly naïve and sugar-addicted infant. For me, I don’t know who’s more unbearable, and I love them equally and unconditionally – the child actor playing Empoy (another of the ubiquitous Reyes, this time Jay-Are), who delivers every line like he’s sleepwalking and trying to create static electricity by brushing both ears, or TT himself, the nyipping testicle betraying not a single emotion from under its rubber mat. His one discernable word – “Bye!” – comes not a moment too soon, and I for one wish Little Boy Blue so long, bon voyage, and thanks for the screaming.
1991 – Alyas Batman En Robin/"Alias Batman And Robin" (Regal Films)
[Release date 6th April 1991, original title “Batman En Robin”]
Director Tony Y. Reyes Story/Screenplay Joey de Leon, Tony Y. Reyes Executive Producer Lily Monteverde Line Producer Tony Fajardo Production Co-ordinator Douglas Quijano Music Mon del Rosario Cinematography Oscar Querijero Editor Eduardo Jarlego Production Manager Eddie Castillo Production Controller Josie Bracamonte Production Designer Melchor Defensor Assistant Director Eddie Reyes Studio Manager/Post-Production In Charge Warlito M. Teodoro Post-Production Cooordinators Ligata Tan, Enrique Santos, Romalo Co Dubbing Coordinator Edna M. Pacardo Sound Effects Roel Capule Sound Supervision Joe Climaco Publicity & Promo Alfie Lorenzo, June T. Rufino Video Editor (Magnatech) Rolando Ortega Dubbing Supervisors Vangie Labalan, Lucy Quinto Publicity/Promo Assistant J.P. Pelgone Art Director Nancy Arcega Continuity Director Gerry Reyes Propsman Tikboy Estrada Setman Lito Torres Makeup Artist Baby Saro Schedule Master Wendell Dacillo Gaffer Rey Trinidad Special Effects Linda Torrente Assistant Editors Rico Salas, Tony Acurin Production Accountant Luz Veras Production Secretaries Theody Vidal, Aurora Elambayo, Angel Torres, Cirillo Santillo, Gina Elba Murro, Lina Mendoza, Emma Vitalicio, Helen Maglinao, Nilda Bibat, Kyna Jimenea, Jocelyn Matibag, Eva Castillo, Mariz Ortega, Margie Villalon Promotion Coordinators Armichel San Pascuaz, Marilou Billones, Sally Ojalo, Raquel Gacho Dubbing Looper Rene Lamis Assistant Sound Editor Ernesto Sagoisag Layout Artist Vic Delotano Sound Technicians Carlito Alagon, Louisito Maziza, Jay Baltera, C-Ger Ramirez, Marvin Flores, Alex Napiza, Anaclito Teope, Jun Galeon, Mido Lontag, Danny Gamba, Victor Elbo, Louie Galang, Marcelino Liwag, Romeri Castanares, Rudy Carnates, Lauro Frany, Raffy Casimsiman, Jebs Endozo, Rod Lontoc, Nestor Loyosa, Henry Bitana Lights Caretakers Boy Anao, Benjie Binavides, Cris Holgado, Vicente Bocino, Beben Casimsiman Catering Nene Fajardo
Cast Joey de Leon (Batman/Bruce), Keempee de Leon (Kevin/Robin), Rene Requiestas (Jocson/Joker), Dawn Zulueta, Vina Morales (Vina), Panchito [Alba] (Tiyo Paenguin), Almira Muhlach, Chinkee Tan, Cathy Mora, Ruben Rustia, Mon Alvir, Bomber Moran, Joaquin Fajardo, Yoyong Martinez, Rommel Valdez, Ernie Forte, Rene Hawkins, Danny Rojo, Bert Cayanan, Rey Solo, Jun de Guia, Ariel Villasanta, Nemy Gutierez, Enciong Reyes
Review by Andrew Leavold
Philippines cinema has had a long and fruitful relationship with its komic industry dating back to the Forties, as well as a tenuous grasp on the concept of international copyright law. Much of Western culture was adopted and adapted, and put through the process of “Pinoyization”: out of the other end of the cultural sausage machine came a product that was faintly recognizable, but very much Filipino in flavour.
At times producers didn't even bother slapping a new label on a familiar product. The Sixties, it seemed, was open season on Americana: not only Batman, but James Bond, the Phantom, Tarzan – the list is endless. Copyright holders required a court case to be mounted in the offenders' country of origin – a costly and often pointless process, particularly if the offending territory is as far away as the Philippines. And so the relentless plundering of Batman iconography continued, including the intriguing titles Batman Fights Dracula (1967) and Batwoman And Robin Meet The Queen Of The Vampires (1972). But enough was enough, and when Batman En Robin premiered in Manila cinemas in 1991, DC Comics sent a cease-and-desist letter (or so the story goes). The film was withdrawn from theatres, only to reappear on VHS months later with “Alyas” before the film's title, but with all of the infringing material – the name Batman, for starters, along with the symbol, the Batmobile, the BatCave ad nauseum – thankfully intact. There's parody, and the degree of license bestowed upon its comedic form, and then there's outright theft. I think you'll quickly note which side of the legal fence this unrepentant sack of arse is proud to sit.
Kevin (Keempee de Leon) is a teenage dreamer obsessed with comics and especially Batman and Robin, lives with his older brother (Joey de Leon) in their parents' old house, is a champion swimmer at his local high school, and object of every young girl's affections. His jealous rival is schoolmate Jocson (Rene Requiestas), a would-be Casanova with full moustache and no front teeth and possibly the oldest schoolboy in the Philippines. He hates both Kevin AND Robin with a passion, and favours the darker charms of Batman's rival The Joker instead. As fate would have it, Jocson's Tiyo (“Uncle”) Paeng (Panchito) invites him to join his new criminal organization, a fearsome bunch based on Batman's rivals: Uncle Paeng crowns himself the Paenguin, complete with top hat and umbrella, while Jocson dons the pancake makeup and spikes his hair into antennae to create the most ludicrous, almost Dali-esque caricature of the Joker in Comicdom.
With assistance from a slinky Cat Woman and her gang of masked she-kittens, Tiyo Paenguin and the Joker embark on a crime spree the likes of which “Gotham City” (or is it “Anila”, as a newspaper headline suggests?) has never seen. At the Smith and Wesson Dollar Exchange, the super-baddies point their guns at the cashiers – and then break into song and dance routine, whilst the girls behind the counter wave their upstretched arms in unison. And the musical numbers don't stop there. Kevin talks his older brother (Joey de Leon) into donning the superhero costumes and teaming up as the Caped Crusader and Wonder Boy in order to banish Paenguin and Joker, and by association, Evil from the world of the Right and Just. Over the top of a montage showing the two brothers getting into superhero shape and building their own Batmobile, musical copyright is once again flushed down the toilet to the tune of the Beach Boys' “Surfin' Safari”:
Do you still remember from your comic book?
All the series of the Dynamic Two
The Caped Crusader and the Wonder Boy
Kalaban nila ang mga goons (They fight all the goons)
Holy smoke, Batman and Robin
Oh my God! Batman and Robin
Praise the Lord Batman and Robin
Shoot na shoot Batman and Robin
Let’s do Bruce Wayne now and Dick Grayson now
They are all a part of me…
For all its surface weirdness and eccentricities to a Western audience, it must be remembered that Alyas Batman En Robin was considered a major release in the Philippines: produced by the largest studio at the time, Regal Films, and starring three of the most popular comedians ever. Joey de Leon's Batman is just one of hundreds of his comedic creations from a career dating back to the Seventies as popular TV comic, game show host, DJ, singer, and member of the phenomenally popular team of Tito, Vic and Joey (affectionally known as “TVJ”). Along with brothers Tito and Vic Sotto, TVJ graduated from TV sensations in Seventies sitcom Iskul Bukol to prolific films stars throughout the Eighties. Aside from the odd reunion the trio went their separate ways in '88, and it was Joey who had the earliest hits with goofy parodies like Starzan (1989) and The Long Ranger And Tonton (1989), often with Batman's Tony Reyes in the director's chair. Alyas Batman is even cheeky enough to reference Joey's most beloved screen character:
Batman: No, no, I don't really like Batman.
Kevin: What do you like?
Batman: I'd like to be Starzan!
Kevin: What? Starzan? And turn it into shit?
Joey is still one of the most prolific presences on Philippines TV in four separate shows for GMA-7 – testament to any popular comedian's staying power, and their public's loyalty and adoration. The same can be said for Panchito Alba (“Uncle” Paenguin), the gruff, exasperated sidekick of Dolphy, the Philippines' King of Comedy, in movies and on stage together since the early Fifties, and a top-shelf comic in his own right. Rene Requiestas (Jocson/The Joker) found fame much later in his life as Joey de Leon's comic foil in many of solo outings, with his trademark missing front teeth and malleable moustache. Sadly, both comedians passed away soon after Batman – the 36 year-old Rene of tuberculosis in 1993, the much older Panchito following complications from a stroke in 1995, aged 70.
As with much of the Philippines' populist fare, Batman's faults are many and glaring. It adopts a regulation Bollywood-style “masala” approach: throw in some comedy, some romance, some by-the-book goon action (and let's not forget the musical numbers!), and pad out the film's unnecessarily long running time with protracted and pointless exposition, in the belief the audience's ceaseless fascination with their favourite film personalities will carry the movie just nicely. Even the goon punch-ups – a chance to emulate the “Biff! Bang! Pow!” moments of the Sixties TV show – are flat and uncooked, with not even the hint of a camera tilt on the horizon. It's lazy, perfunctory filmmaking at best, which trades on accumulated goodwill and over-familiarity which in the West would merely breed contempt. Luckily for Alyas Batman En Robin the film is, at times, as funny as it is bizarre, and the humour – never an easy thing to translate between cultures - is in turns silly, self-aware, puerile, grotesquely unfunny, ribald and downright scatological. Take for example Paenguin and Joker's escape from their prison cell, under a toilet and into the sewer below...
Paenguin: In a toilet bowl? That's why you're a shit, smell like shit, because you're always close to shit!
Joker: I thought you wanted to escape?
Paenguin: How? Are you going to put me in and flush me?
Then there's a blink-and-you'll-miss-it studio in-joke – Batman points to the Regal Films emblem on Kevin's Robin costume and says, “Wait, what's this? This is a Viva film [Regal's main rival]. Why is it on Regal? “I bought it already,” replies Kevin.
On the romance front there's young Kevin and his puppy-lovestruck classmate Vina (pop star/actress Vina Morales), who halt the film long enough for a duet in English which sounds like Celine Dion dropping her breakfast. Batman himself goes weak in the tights for ace reporter Angelique Legarda (Dawn Zulueta) and at one point even addresses the camera in a Wayne's World moment (come to think of it, Joey does look like an older, doughier Mike Myers) and asks the audience, “What if I do a dream sequence?” Cut to a fantasy poolside sequence in which Batman saves Angelic from a gang of goons but loses his mask, and tries to maintain his secret identity by wearing her bikini on his face. What can I tell you? I'm a sucker for lowbrow silliness. In a word: Comedy...Gold...
Despite the best efforts of Uncle and nephew, the true family values of goodness and justice prevail, and the storyline stresses that Batman is nothing without Robin, and vice versa. The film ends with the Batman clan, a reformed Paenguin and Joker, and a cast reunion on the front lawn outside the Batcave. There's even a few surprise additions: Angelique in a Wonder Woman costume (hubba hubba!), Superman, and even a go-go dancing dwarf Spiderman! Cue a second stolen tune, this time “At The Hop”, while the Joker points out his new-found humility in Taglish (a mangle of Tagalog and key English phrases):
Kung kayo ay isang salbahe (If you’re bad) and you are very naughty
You dirty rat. You’re very dirty rat!
Pwede pa kayo mag bago at hindi pa nahuhuli ang lahat (You can still change while it’s not too late)
Let us sing kumpare (friend) that the world means love and not the rot
Let us good na brod (Let's be a good brother),
Let us not be bad
That’s better
Let’s be good na part (Let’s be part of good), let’s be afraid of God
Ahh... Let's believe in love!
It's equal parts comedy heaven and hell, and I sure know which part Rene Requiestas is in right now, tittering away in whiteface, after witnessing the DC Comics car crash courtesy of Manila traffic, Alyas Batman En Robin.
As a follow-up to my review of Bedmen Yarasa Adam, I thought I'd delve a little further into the abuses that the Batman copyright has suffered at the hands of filmmakers from non-English speaking lands. Today's stop: the Philippines. The caped crusader has been a fairly steady fixture of that country's Tagalog language cinema over the years, being the subject of everything from the raucous pop culture parodies that Filipino audiences apparently never tire of to more sober, but no less unauthorized, treatments starting with the mid-sixties heyday of the American Batman TV series. Sadly many examples of such films -- including the original, 1965 version of Alyas Batman & Robin, 1967's Batman Fights Dracula, and 1973's Fight Batman Fight! -- appear to be among that large percentage of pre-EDSA Tagalog pop cinema that has since been lost to the combined forces of time and neglect. (One happy exception is Dolphy's irreverent 1966 spoof James Batman, which I reviewed for Teleport City last year.)
Thanks to its more recent vintage, the 1993 musical comedy Alyas Batman en Robin is probably the easiest to track down of all the Pinoy Bat-sploitation films -- not to mention the most widely reviewed. This is so much the case that I've never really made much of an effort to get my hands on it, secure in the knowledge that it would eventually fall into my lap one way or another. Well, that inevitable day has finally rolled around. And having now viewed Alyas Batman en Robin -- armed with the very low expectations that everything I'd heard about it seemed to justify -- I have to admit to being a bit surprised. Not that Alyas Batman en Robin is all that good, mind you. It's not. It's just that it ended up being fairly different from what I'd been lead to anticipate. This is largely due to the fact that, unlike its predecessors, Alyas is not an attempt to bring Batman and Robin's comic book world to the screen, but rather a tale of two doofy inhabitants of the everyday world -- the one in which Batman and Robin only exist in the comics -- who decide to take on the role of those fictional crime fighters in real life.
Alyas stars popular Filipino comedian and television presenter Joey de Leon, here continuing a string of successful pop culture spoofs that included Sheman: Mistress of the Universe and the Starzan films, both of which were helmed by Alyas director Tony Y. Reyes. This time around, De Leon costars with his own son, actor and singer Keempee de Leon, playing -- I think -- the role of De Leon Junior's elder sibling. (Keempee's character refers to De Leon Senior as "Kuya", a Tagalog term that, while literally translating as "big brother", can also refer to an elder male relative from the extended family.) Kempee portrays Kevin, a bookish college student and closet comic enthusiast, who -- when a gang of run-of-the-mill crooks assume the guises of The Joker, The Penguin and Catwoman to commit a series of bank robberies -- convinces his Kuya Joey to join him in becoming a real world dynamic duo. The two commit to this task the best efforts that they're resources will allow, constructing a makeshift Batcave in Joey's garage and customizing a less-than-supercharged approximation of the Batmobile using one of their own cars. This aspect of Alyas' story represents a rare instance of a Filipino film's low production values being a source of intentional humor, as Joey-cum-Batman and Kevin-cum-Robin's low-rent creations are meant to look every bit as cheesy as they appear.
While Joey and Kevin's fumblings in their attempts to personify Batman and Robin provide for a lot of Alyas Batman en Robin's comedy -- the exaggerated stiffness that Joey De Leon affects whenever he's in his Batsuit, for instance, is actually quite funny -- it's important to note that, for the most part, they're heroic exploits are successful, and result in their masked alter-egos being celebrated by the grateful populace of their city. In this sense, Alyas is far less the cut-rate knock-off of the original Batman that you might expect, and is instead a full-fledged appropriation and culturally-informed repurposing of the character; In other words, not the whitebread Batman of the comics, but a Batman born specifically of the Philippines, with a distinct Pinoy identity. This kind of cheeky hijacking of Western pop totems is one of the things I love most about Tagalog pop cinema. While Turkish films, for example, were equally profligate in their blatant borrowing of characters from Western films and comics -- and did end up doing some culturally-motivated retooling of those characters -- they seemed to be doing so for mainly mercenary purposes, while Filipino film's borrowing of such characters often seemed to have a far more transformative -- and even subversive -- intent. One can't really find a better example of this than Filipino film and comic book heroine Darna, a rural reinterpretation of Wonder Woman who acts as a savior to the poor residents of her small village.
While providing us with a fair amount of the biff-bang-pow action that one would expect from a Batman movie, Alyas Batman en Robin also goes about the business of being a romantic comedy. Young Kevin finds, much to his delight, that the object of his heretofore unrequited love, Vina (Vina Morales), has become besotted with Robin, but is foiled in his attempts to reveal his identity to her by the arrival on the scene of a flock of would-be suitors in Robin costumes. Meanwhile, Joey falls for Angelique (Dawn Zulueta), the genre-requisite "plucky girl reporter" hell-bent on getting the scoop on Batman's true identity. Eventually his romantic frustrations lead to him having a "dark night" of the soul of his own, with the result that Robin is left to fend for himself against the gang of costumed criminals. Eventually the pair rallies in time for a triumphant third act confrontation with the forces of evil, clearing the way for a chirpy, all singing, all dancing finale.
A staple of Joey de Leon's comedy act was his song parodies, which involved him singing his own putatively comical words to the tunes of popular oldies. With the exception of one, very eighties-sounding power ballad sung by Keempee de Leon and Vina Morales, these are the type of songs that comprise Alyas' several musical numbers. A training montage early in the film that features Kevin and Joey getting fit for their superheroic duties is accompanied by a tune lifted from the Beach Boys' "Surfin' Safari", to which off-screen vocalists sing:
"Holy smokes, Batman and Robin
Oh my God, Batman and Robin
Praise the Lord, Batman and Robin
Shoot, man, shoot, Batman and Robin
Let's do Bruce Wayne now
And Dick Grayson now
They are a part of me!"
The Joker (Filipino comedian and frequent De Leon sidekick Rene Requiestas in his final film role) and the Penguin (beloved comic actor Panchito) are incapable of pulling off a robbery without a bit of song and dance, and their spirit is so infectious that the besieged bank tellers and customers can't help but join in and act as their chorus line. Finally, everything comes to a silly karaoke-esque head with a closing number in which the principles -- heroes and villains alike -- are joined by dancers costumed as various superheroes (midget Spider-man!) to caper about and sing to the tune of "At The Hop":
"Let's be good, not bad
Let us not be bad
Let's be afraid of God
Let's believe in love!"
In contrast to the more anarchic, seemingly Mad Magazine-inspired style of the earlier James Batman, Alyas Batman en Robin is a gentler breed of Bat-comedy altogether, redolent of goofy sweetness and bearing an earnest up-with-people message at its core. We've seen this kind of aspirational comic fantasy before, with its riffing on everyday folks' use of popular fantasy heroes as repositories for their better selves. (Takashi Miike's Zebraman comes immediately to mind.) However, Alyas' intellectual-property-law-flaunting use of an actual, very recognizable piece of "real world" pop iconography disarmingly strips away a layer of artifice that those other films have to employ out of legal necessity, making possible an identification with the schleppy protagonists that is that much more poignant and immediate. It also doesn't hurt that the lead performers -- by which I refer to the DeLeons, both junior and senior, and Dawn Zulueta -- are all thoroughly likeable (and in Zuleuta's case, knee-tremblingly gorgeous in the bargain).
Again, this is not to say that Alyas Batman en Robin is a particularly good film. To be honest, it's startlingly amateurish on many levels and as hokey as all get out. Still, I think that, if you're willing to give it a chance, you'll find that it has quite a bit more to offer than what you might have read about it elsewhere on the internets would lead you to believe.
The Turkish film industry is celebrated for its unique habit of taking Hollywood classics and remaking them into surreal, no-budget ripoffs ("The Turkish Wizard of Oz," "The Turkish Star Wars"). While these films inspired audiences around the world to laugh themselves silly, they seem to have also inspired a group of filmmakers in the Philippines to display a happy disregard for copyright laws and good sense in making their own no-budget ripoff. While the 1993 "Alias Batman and Robin" may not match the Turkish output in terms of sheer lunacy, it nonetheless hypnotizes the unsuspecting audience by mercilessly stomping over Bob Kane's beloved creations in an outlandish so-bad-it's-good production.
This time around, the Caped Crusaders are actually brothers who live in Manila (which is occasionally and confusingly referred to as GothamCity). The older brother has no immediate source of income, although he lives in a mansion decorated with some of the clumsiest artwork this side of a kindergarten finger-painting class. The younger brother is the star of the local high school swim team, and his shirtless presence creates such a riot among the young girls that they break into a swimming meet and chase him around the pool in a screaming frenzy. Much to their chagrin, their beloved Manila/Gotham is being vandalized by three extraordinary villains: the Joker (who sports a heavy handlebar mustache in the midst of his whiteface make-up), the Penguin (who wears the top hat and morning suit while sporting a baby umbrella and a four-foot-long cigarette holder) and Catwoman (who wears a sequined red mask, a red cape and a blue bodysuit). These criminals travel with a fairly large number of associate miscreants: men in pinstriped suits who carry Uzis and women in evening gowns who provide support in the musical numbers.
Yes, musical numbers. It seems Joker, Penguin and Catwoman can't resist breaking into song and dance while stealing bags of cash from the local banks. Indeed, they are so inspiring that the bank tellers find themselves waving their arms and wiggling their bodies in time to the criminal music. But all good songs have to come to an end, and eventually Batman and Robin swing into action with their fists ready. Unfortunately, no one in the Philippines seems to know how to throw a decent punch and the Caped Crusaders and their male foes actually fight like a bunch of girls. The real girls don't even bother fighting: at the first sign of trouble, Catwoman's distaff gang runs away while the feline foe tries to kick Batman in the teeth but winds up subdued when Batman bites her on the neck.
"Alias Batman and Robin" also gives Batman a love interest in the shapely body of Angelique, a reporter who bears more than a passing resemblance to Margot Kidder's incarnation as Lois Lane in the Superman films. Batman actually brings her back to his Batcave and serves her his own special brand of Batcoffee. Later in the film, Batman dreams of saving Angelique from a gang of thugs who invade her swimming pool, but Batman loses his mask in the commotion and winds up wearing Angelique's bikini top across his face to keep himself disguised.
While this is going on, Joker and Penguin keep finding their way back into the crime scene. This is curious, since during the course of the film they are actually arrested three times. At one point, they escape from jail by dismantling the toilet in their prison cell and sliding down the pipes into the sewers! This dastardly pair even tries to pull a heist dressed as Batman and Robin, but the real Dynamic Duo show up and soon everyone is slapping each other silly. Eventually the film concludes with the entire cast standing in a park lot singing and dancing "Let's Be Good, Not Bad" to the melody of the old doo-wop song "At the Hop." Angelique the reporter dresses herself as Wonder Woman for this number, for no very clear reason. In the midst of this madness, a dwarf in a Spiderman costume, a sumo wrestler, and a man dressed like Peter Pan (none of whom had anything to do with the film) abruptly appear and shimmy back and forth.
In many ways, "Alias Batman and Robin" is a must-see campfest. Everything about the film is hopelessly wrong, from the shabby Halloween costumes worn by the eponymous heroes to the painfully embarrassing fight sequences where jabs fly a good 10 inches in front of faces while the soundtrack is clogged with clunky sound effects simulating connecting punches. Most of the film was clearly shot in private residences, schools and offices, giving the film an on-the-cheap home movie look while unintentionally forcing a lethal dose of reality into the world of the costumed crimefighters and their comic-mad enemies. Unlike the 1960s TV series or the Tim Burton films, which had specialized art decoration and set design to play up the comic book effect, "Alias Batman and Robin" puts its characters in the real world and thus exposes the inanity of the concept in having two men in capes and masks doing the job that departments packed with professional law enforcement officers are incapable of handling.
But truth be told, "Alias Batman and Robin" is hardly a non-stop joy. The film takes a particularly long time to get moving and often it lurches to strange stops for the most idiotic reasons (Robin and his high school sweetie sing a pop song love duet, Batman inexplicably vanishes and Robin has to fight a carload of villains on his own). Nor does it help that the entire cast is challenged in the charisma department; it is hard to recall another film where so many uninteresting people find themselves together in a single production.
Yet despite these problems, "Alias Batman and Robin" should be sought out by fans of the Caped Crusaders and those who take a perverse joy in experiencing the very best of the very worst of global cinema. Holy masochistic pleasure, Batman!
Best described as “Filipino Bat Man and Robin” this terrible-on-the-verge-of-hilarious flick is an unauthorized Batman spoof with the familiar caped comic-book crusaders played by local Filipino comedians – none that I recognized, naturally, since I know nothing about Filipino cinema. Batman and Robin fight the Joker and the Penguin, and the antics and costumes are all lifted from the sixties television show.
I enjoyed watching the first half hour, trying make heads or tails of the mostly Filipino dialog (this DVD had no subtitles) that occasionally lapses to English for key movie phrases like “my hero!” or “I love you!”. The film also occasionally lapses into a musical – one feel-good number features the Joker and the Penguin robbing a bank joined by fifty armed heavies. Most of the songs are covers of American rock tunes translated into Philipino except for a few English words, so the Beach Boy’s Surfin’ Safari is changed into Batman and Robin.
The actor who played the Joker (Rene Requiestas) was pretty freaking hilarious, cackling like a cockatoo, sporting an appropriately cockamamie hairstyle.
In watching Alyas Batman en Robin, I realized the leotard is an extremely unforgiving outfit – the average joe looks decidedly non-super. But what’s funny is how behavior transforms once the super-suit is donned. This Batman acts quite heroic, employing a unique double-fisted alternating punch-to-the-stomach technique that serves to eliminate 90% of the heavies that attack him. No wonder he never employed his utility belt.
Anyhow, there really isn’t much else to say about this film (not even the midget Spider-Man or the modified black Chevy Batmobile). Here’s a picture gallery if you have even a passing interest in this flick. It’s truly one of those toxic entertainments, that could be really awesome in certain situations and in particular company, but if you’re feeling slightly off, I feel you’d not get five minutes in before saying “this sucks.”