OFW’s: Anthony Bourdain’s “Manila”

Bourdain at a Jollibees in Manila.

Bourdain at a Jollibees in Manila.

I think it deserves to become a Christmas classic—a weird one, but nonetheless a classic.  The VIDEO below stiches together about 10 minutes of clips available on YouTube from one of the best episodes the late Anthony Bourdain ever did: his show on Manila, the first episode of Season Seven of his Parts Unknown series.  Being Filipino, I know I’m biased in thinking it’s the greatest show he ever did.  The video below focuses on the insane fast-food franchise Jollibees, on OFW’s (Overseas Filipino Workers), on cover bands (a significant segment of OFW’s), and on one particular OFW: Aurora, a woman who lived overseas for over 30 years, and as a nanny for many of those years raised one of Bourdain’s directors.

RockStars2What’s left out?  A segment on Sisig, a classic Filipino street food (a hash of pig ears and jowls—Bourdain just calls it “pig face”—garlic, and a raw egg on top) that started trending world-wide after this show; a segment on Halo Halo, a crazy mix of milk, beans, fruits, gelatin, etc. (the name just means “mix-mix”); and segments on Christmas, and Christmas parties—because the Philippines is absolutely the most Christmas-crazy country on earth. Celebrations begin September 1st, when everybody starts saying “Merry Christmas” to each another, and stores rev up, as do actual Christmas parties.  Most of all you won’t see all of the last segment with Aurora, her family, and Bourdain (about which, more soon).  So everyone—I mean it!—should just buy this episode on Amazon Prime, or Netflix, or wherever, and start a family tradition: watch it at least once every Christmas, starting September 1st, if not more.  It will probably cost only $1.99 for an HD version.

BalikbayanOne of the first things Bourdain says is, “Filipinos are, for reasons I have yet to fathom, the most giving people on earth.  Think I’m talking shit?  Keep watching.”  On first viewing, what you’ll watch seems to be a jumble of weird images: postal workers struggling with huge boxes; crazy office Christmas party games; kids swimming in the Bay and playing street basketball; a traffic cop in a Santa suit directing traffic with sensational dance moves while a typhoon pours down rain;  priests wildly sprinkling holy water on people pouring out of churches.  Yet the show has a wonderful, well-crafted arc.  Those huge boxes you see near the very beginning are the famous Filipino Christmas boxes, Balikbayans, tens of thousands of them, stuffed full of items by OFW’s and sent home to those left behind to say, “I’m still out here.”  They’re stuffed with mostly day-to-day items that, as Bourdain says, “You’d just give to loved ones as a matter of course if you weren’t half way around the world.”  These boxes show up big at the end as Aurora and her family exult over a Balikbayan from Albert somewhere in the U.S.  My first cousin Rhoda and husband Roldan Rosas: they’re only a couple thousand miles away in Hayward, CA, where I did most of my growing up, but every Christmas a box shows up stuffed with lots of chocolates and pistachios, and every year I think: It’s our own little Balikbayan tradition!

The cover bands?  That’s their ambition: to go abroad, hopefully hitting it big by playing, say, Las Vegas.  For most OFW’s, however, it’s not an ambition, but a hard, often bitter, only option.  Which brings us back to Aurora.  “I’m 100% the man I am today because of Aurora,” writes Bourdain’s director.  “She’s influenced literally thousands of people around the world with her joy.”

OFWsAnthony Bourdain always gave us great TV— well written, well shot, well crafted, often important.  As in the Jollibee scene you’ll see in the video below, his outsized personality was at the center. Funny, irreverent, snarky and snobbish—he was the prototypical wise guy, tough but with a heart of gold, sometimes a very  tender heart of gold.  And never so tender as in this episode about Manila, which shows him at probably his widest range of feelings of any of his shows.  Early in the Aurora segment, Aurora sings snippets of “Of Holy Night” and just made up stuff about how she hopes everybody’s going to love the kari kari stew she’s cooking.  But as the program comes to a close she’s singing “Edelweiss,” with that line particularly pertinent for OFW’s: “Bless my homeland forever.”  After a lifetime away, “Her children,” says Bourdain, “now middle-aged, are finally getting to know their mother.”  Her solo voice makes her children cry and serves, too, as sound track to scenes of OFW’s leaving their families.  And when the camera closes in on Bourdain’s face you see he’s smiling, but on the verge of tears, just barely holding it together.  You’ll never see the wise guy that close to losing it in any other episode.  It’s one of the great moments of his legacy: him realizing that he really wasn’t talking shit after all.

  Go to Reviews on this site, to a post listing my Writing About the Philippines, and to the Teaching Diversity main page.  * Go HERE for more on the Filipino’s talent for Western Music.

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Our “Green Book” fantasy, plus other Oscar winners that don’t hold up

GreenBook-Trib2This was front page, Arts & Entertainment section, of the February 3, 2019, Chicago Tribune.  Though the Christopher Borelli article focused on other things, my direct answer to the question about Green Book—which won 2019’s Oscar for Best Picture—is this: You’re not necessarily bad, but you are typically American.

In many ways, I am, too.  In fact, I enjoyed Green Book as a piece of simple entertainment. I’ve written many, many times that Americans would rather talk about anything—anything—but race in serious, informed ways.  Sometimes I even entertain the fantasy, like the typical American, that race and racism will just magically go away if we ignore it, don’t talk about it, and just be nice to one another.  But it’s not going away in the foreseeable future.  It’s woven into, not just stamped on to, the fabric of our national culture; and Green Book was just another in a long, long list of entertainments that helps us avoid this uncomfortable fact, feeding the fantasy we hold so dear.  The caption to the picture above (probably too small to read clearly here) says, in part:  “The film, to put it mildly, offers a very tidy view of race relations.”

Now that the Oscars approach again, I was reminded of this 2019 Green Book piece by the recent William Bibbiani piece in The Wrap (January 7, 2020), “Green Book and 13 Other Oscar Winners That Don’t Hold Up.”  Here’s his list:

1929’s Broadway Melody.  1931’s Cimmaron.  1933’s Cavalcade.  1936’s The Great Ziegfield, first biopic to win—which, in a phrase that could apply to all films that don’t hold up, Bibbiani calls, “sanitized, padded, and implausibly fawning.”  1947’s Gentleman’s Agreement.  1952’s The Greatest Show on Earth.  1956’s Around the World in 80 Days.  1989’s Driving Miss Daisy.  1999’s American Beauty, called “contrived and self-congratulatory.”  2001’s  A Beautiful Mind, which “hammers its way through one biopic cliché after another.” 2002’s  Chicago.  2005’s  Crash.  2010’s The King’s Speech, which beats Jennifer Lawrence’s first and best work, the bleak Winter’s Bone.  And 2018’s Green Book.

GreenBook-FoodIt would be fairly easy to show how each one of these films is racially coded in significant ways, depending on the suppression of race, or tacit enforcement of racial stereotyping, for their created worlds to work.  Directly or indirectly, each feeds the fantasy I mentioned earlier.  For now, though, it’s enough to note that three of these films directly address race and racism in comforting ways, becoming in essence comfort food for the American soul.

Driving Miss Daisy feeds us “being nice” as comfort.   As Bibbiani writes, the bigoted main character, the Miss Daisy played by Jessica Tandy, “gradually learns to be less bigoted because her chauffer, played by Morgan Freeman, is nice.”  In 1989 Spike Lee’s Do the Right Thing also comes out, but in a move that only emphasizes America’s desire not to talk about race seriously, it’s not even nominated!

Crash feeds us miraculous change as comfort.  Bibbiani calls the film “unbelievably phony and smug,” saying that, “every single story line relies so completely on forced irony,” the major one being that Officer Ryan (played by Matt Dillon) who feels up and disgraces Christine (Thandy Newton) in the beginning is the one who pulls her from a burning car at the end.  We’re led to believe there’s been changes of hearts: instead of feeling her up he saves her…and she lets him.  Racism solved.  And, as a bonus, his sexual assault of this very same woman at the beginning of the film can also be blotted out. This film beats out Capote and Brokeback Mountain, whose significance has well outlasted Crash.

Which brings us back to Green Book, which for comfort feeds us a version of “white saviorism,” a theme played over and over in film after film after film.  We’ll solve racism by actually saving, redeeming, uplifting these poor colored folk, raising them to white standards so they can finally begin to move towards equality, maybe even towards being loved. Or—in a clever, loaded twist—we’ll school them in their own culture to save them from being too white! Long before the film reached theaters, Dr. Don Shirley’s family protested the portrayal of Shirley (played by Mahershala Ali) and the overplaying of his chauffer (Viggo Mortensen) in Shirley’s life.  Talk about a white savior: the chauffer literally feeds Shirley what appears to be his first taste of fried chicken, at least KFC style fried chicken.  The Don Shirley Trio played so-called Third Wave jazz, a fusion of jazz and classical music that had its day, and some of which I liked.  But funny that near the film’s end, Don Shirley does just fine playing straight out boogie-woogie blues.  Maybe he knows something about his own culture after all.  At least the chauffer’s wife (Linda Cardellini) knows that her husband needed lots of help writing her those love letters.  In this, and a few other things, Don Shirley civilizes his chauffer a little.  But he doesn’t save him.  The chauffer does most of that, even saving Dr. Shirley from a lonely Thanksgiving dinner at the end.  Talk about stuffing yourself with comfort food.

(I say 2.5 stars.)

  Go to a list of Reviews on this site, and to the Teaching Diversity main page.
Go Here for more on The Green Book and on Black images in film.

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Writing About the Philippines

This post serves partly as an index to the writing I’ve done on this site about my homeland, The Philippines.  My relation to this homeland has been problematic my whole life, and, in fact, the list of writings below is one of my strongest bonds to my birth country.  I read about the Philippines and write about its history and culture more than I’m actually in the country itself.

1stPassport2I was born in Manila in January 1949, leaving it to join my father—a U.S. Army soldier—in Okinawa in November that same year.  “When were you home last?” many of my friends ask, especially my Filipino friends.  I’ve never been back.  My father could not come back for my birth even, so his first sight of me was in Okinawa when I was already eleven months old.  After we all boarded a boat and came to the United States in 1951, I know of only one time he himself went back. My mother never went back, and he did so only after my mother died in 1981.  It seems he almost died there himself, though we didn’t find out until many weeks later because there was still no phone in our village—San Esteban, Ilocos Sur—that could call the U.S.   We had to wait until someone traveled the many miles south to La Union Province to call us.  My mother and father’s marriage caused a giant blowup between the two families who had formerly been friends—her brother, Uncle Jimmy, being my Dad’s best friend.  Until he married his sister.  My Mom didn’t speak to some of her siblings for 20 years or more afterwards, and both Mom and Dad told us, every time visiting the homeland came up, that the Philippines was a place you never ever wanted to be.  When my Dad’s Mom died, my parents fought about whether he would go back for his own mother’s funeral.  He didn’t.

Then there is the language.  In “Homelessness and Me” and elsewhere I’ve written about the deep, isolating pain of losing my native language.  I’ve mentioned how it was taken from me in several sermons and an autobiographical essay (see links below).  Until my language skills come back or get better (if ever), I don’t know that I’ll ever go back.

PhilippinesI received my most intense Filipino experiences the summers I spent as a “tween” and early teenager in Terra Bella and Porterville, California, mostly working the fields: picking tomatoes, grapes, and figs, hoeing weeds, pulling leaves.  There I heard the language again, and understood it though found it virtually impossible to speak.  There I helped hand-slaughter animals, mostly pigs and goats, for feasts.  Now, since I’ve been attending Friendship United Methodist Church (Bolingbrook, IL) for many years, I’ve been back with more Filipino friends than I have in decades.  They love me and I them, but not being able to speak my own language, or the Tagalog most of them speak, is a deep, deep pain.

Which leaves me a student of books and media and a writer of articles about the Philippines.  Listed first below is my major article on N.V.M. Gonzalez, one of the Philippines’ greatest writers.  It helped establish me as a writer and scholar.  By chance, the pre-publication proofs of the article arrived at his California home on his 40th wedding anniversary.  It was one of the greatest gifts he’d ever received, he said, and a monument to his work.  It has been reprinted several times including in Asian-American Writers, where the eminent American critic Harold Bloom picked it as one of the 15 best essays ever written on Asian-American literature.  As a memorial to Gonzalez the University of the Philippines published a beautiful 4-volume boxed set of his best work, and my piece also appeared there.

Go to the Diversity Training and Teaching page on this site.

 

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