Television travesty

People without television, they say, are children of a lesser god. As a child of technology, instant entertainment and all things convenient, I would have to agree. After all, network television provides everything for the average person – variety shows provide a noontime distraction, the fluffy kind that keeps even the most intellectually deviant person satisfied, while teleserye and evening dramas provide that exaggerated voyeuristic high that has millions clamoring for more. Bored? Watch infomercials where hideously buffed models ply you with the latest lose weight/get fit gadget. Sad? Tune in to those comedy shows where pseudo-actors with an eclectic repertoire spoof everything from politicians to commercials. Feel like crying? Watch a telenovela. You’re bound to see some poor defenseless girl getting beat up by her evil stepsister or boss who is really her biological mother. And while many critics scoff at these media products, a part of me feels that much of what we see on local television is simply the result of pedestrian ambition –  no real effort is made to be different, to try something new. The old timeworn adage of "Why fix it if it ain’t broke?" seems to be the battle cry of writers, directors and dare I say, actors.

Don’t get me wrong. I do not hate teleseryes or drama shows. Although some of them do make me want to gag. After all, must someone cry every two minutes? Every melodramatic sentence seems to be punctuated by a fit of weeping or, better yet, an elegant show of tears. What is the purpose of this? Must Filipino audiences constantly be subjected to tireless weeping? Perhaps some young actress will attempt to cry because it makes a scene more poignant or gives it more emotional depth. Honey, if that were the case, most network studios would be flooded with the "emotional" tears of method actors. We’ve seen enough sniffly actors cry through dialogue. Let’s see it without the cheesy effects. But I digress.

My adventures with the wonders of local television began with Bituin. An indelible portion of every Noranian’s daily entertainment meal, Bituin traces the story of a family of singers. Nora Aunor and Cherie Gil are sisters (I’ve decided to avoid the obvious joke here because it’s just too easy) whose motto in life, it seems, are to outdo each other. And since both of them happen to be singers (what a surprise), musical performances are a dime a dozen. Nora’s daughters, Carol Banawa and some chick with curly hair, also seem to be fighting with each other. Conflict between the two girls, who also sing (my what a coincidence), results in catfights, concerts and weepy arguments. Gag. The clincher? For some reason, Nora, who of course plays the underdog, suddenly becomes blind. Well, at the rate this show is going, I’d want to go blind too.

Second on the menu is the show, Habang Kapiling Ka, featuring the lovely RDL endorser, Angelika dela Cruz as well as a sad-looking Victor Neri. The rather complicated story concerns Erica, Emilie and Pierre Paolo who seem to be siblings separated at birth or two of them were switched at birth or maybe they were all switched. Once again, it’s complicated. I went online to discover more about the sad tale of these star-crossed siblings. The writer, at the show’s website (http://www.igma.tv/shows/hkk/index.html), sums it up beautifully when he notes, "On one level, this is also the story of women, mothers, daughters, lovers – who are out to get the best in the world for the people they love. It is also the story of fathers, sons and brothers, who must come to terms with each other and accept the animosity and conflict that brews in their relationships." Pardon me, but doesn’t this theme encompass every literary and cinematic enterprise known to man?

Sighing so loudly my mother had to shush me, I went on to the next dramedy, Ang Iibigin ay Ikaw Pa Rin. Starring Richard Gomez, Christopher de Leon and Alice Dixson, the series features two half-brothers pitted against each other in the fight for their late father’s estate and (one can suppose) affection. A succinct plotline and Rufa Mae Quinto’s role as Liberty are the gems of this drama series. (She was brilliant in Booba so if you’re expecting a bitchy comment about the acting, you’re in the wrong place. The woman’s a goddess). Although my goal was to determine the viability of this show, I was too distracted by a more mature (now daddy) hunk Richard Gomez to be able to focus on any major plotline.

Of course, my teleserye surveying would not be complete without including the sovereign of love teams, Judy Ann and Piolo, headliners of Sa Puso Ko Iingatan Ka. With a surprisingly almost-realistic plot, Judy Ann plays a strong capable woman (with feminist undertones) torn between her masochistic victim-type mother, played adeptly by Zsa Zsa Padilla, and her biological father, a man who already has a family of his own. Enter Piolo, perhaps the most telegenic man on Philippine television, as Judy Ann’s (what else) love interest. Despite the fact that this show seems to be free of a mentally-challenged story line, it is still plagued by redundant stereotypical characters, such as the evil stepsister performed by the less than stellar Julia Clarete. And here I thought Cinderella made this character superfluous.

Perhaps the most riveting thing about network television, and in particular, drama shows are the almost ludicrous repetitive stories that continue time immemorial, changed only by names and places. After all, almost every story is characterized by revenge, whether being switched at birth, denied inheritance, or scorned love. It’s the driving force of limpid storytellers with no other option but to create inane conflict between two-dimensional characters. And let’s not forget the OA acting. If they’re not shouting, they’re crying. Just watching the Klaudia Koronel story on Maalaala Mo Kaya made me wonder if the actors were on some sort of medication.

In the end, no matter how stupid, you just can’t help but be drawn to these insane characters. Just like Mariah Carey after her breakdown, you can’t help but feel a certain affinity for people of uncertain mental state. Maybe tomorrow, when you switch that channel from your regular Alias or Buffy, you’ll see how bravely Angelika dela Cruz deals with her switched-at-birth situation. Or maybe Nora’s heartbreaking struggle with blindness will teach you how to deal with your own personal, albeit less dramatic, problems.

The moral of the story? While critics lambast the majority of these primetime programs, it’s important to remember that it’s all for fun – it’s just entertainment. And when you see blind concert queens belting out songs on primetime, you know you’re having fun. I guess that other old adage is true as well, "There’s no business like show business."