Fellow fight nerds out there, heads up!
I know it's a little late in the game, so before I delay further, here's the schedule for the second season of Fight Science, premiering on the National Geographic Channel this weekend. Not sure which episodes get shown when, but at the very least, you can anticipate the time and days they're airing.
Manila/Singapore Time:
Jan27/Sun/1700
Feb07/Thu/1900
Feb08/Fri/0600
Feb14/Thu/1000
Feb15/Fri/0000
Feb15/Fri/0400
After this, my eyes almost popped a capillary or two from the strain of going through each page in the Philippine show sked site. Be my guest in scoping out the entire season run of this headbangin', super kickass series. (Pun entirely intended.)
Check out the National Geographic Channel, one of my favorite TV hangouts ever since I chanced upon JWP's documentary on a Muay Thai prizefighter's life in the 2006 run of the ShowReal Asia series. Yeah, I know, no schedule for this here show. (All I know is that it's showing tonight on NGC at 8pm, Philippine time.) I'm still bracing myself for the long haul sitting in front of the monitor, flipping through page upon page on the lookout for the time sked of said series. Maybe next week, if I get inspired enough to go through the whole ordeal yet again, who knows.
In the meantime, happy weekend, everyone!
Friday, January 25, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Sweetest Thing
Aren't the pics below the most precious things you've ever seen?
My family loves cats. No, scratch that--they don't just love them. They're crazy-obsessed with them. Not Ripley's Believe It Or Not crazy-obsessed, mind you. Just the normal kind of crazy.
Growing up away from the fam in college, I'd be coming home for vacation to a house that's bursting at the seams with tawny and black-tipped furballs. Each vacation stay is a different family history: a whole generation of cats that replenished the line of the ones that ran away from home wanting to be independent. I mean, who wouldn't, with my family smothering them with TLC like anything you've ever seen. Mom and the kids would adopt pusakals or stray cats by the truckload with willful abandon, not caring where they came from or if they had the playboy bunny gene which predisposes one to make more babies than they can keep track of. Apparently, we’ve become quite popular in the cat community as the good samaritans/suckers of Gov. Ramos Avenue that strange cats would just show up on our doorstop, expectant and waiting to be taken in and fed and bathed. There has never been a more implicit display of effective word-of-mouth marketing than in our extended household.
Them cats are like family that sometimes it’s hard to tell apart my brothers from the short-hairs lolling about the house with a languorous air of entitlement. If the kitties make a boo-boo, Dad would scold them in the same way he would us kids, and even practice his corny jokes on them every chance he could. Ina/Grandma was once in tears, heartbroken, when Faisal, my brother, accidentally ran over the dazzlingly white kitty that was everyone's favorite then because it had the misfortune of playing in the yard when brother dearest was pulling the car up into the driveway one night. If anyone in my family had an allergy to the cat species, even if it killed them, they'd better get over it real quick lest they risk being booted from hearth and home where our furry, feline adoptees are deemed little overlords.
Right below is how Dad would look like in a classic family scenario if we turn feline in our next lives. Except that maybe it should be "7pm" instead of "11pm". Dad's old school like that.
I super love the furry, merry brood of critters in this selection. Looking at them, I hate to say it but I'm going "Awwww..." all over again. Sappy, I know. But what can I do? These pics instantly tug and poke at certain parts of my heart. Damn cute.
Photos courtesy of icanhascheezburger.
My family loves cats. No, scratch that--they don't just love them. They're crazy-obsessed with them. Not Ripley's Believe It Or Not crazy-obsessed, mind you. Just the normal kind of crazy.
Growing up away from the fam in college, I'd be coming home for vacation to a house that's bursting at the seams with tawny and black-tipped furballs. Each vacation stay is a different family history: a whole generation of cats that replenished the line of the ones that ran away from home wanting to be independent. I mean, who wouldn't, with my family smothering them with TLC like anything you've ever seen. Mom and the kids would adopt pusakals or stray cats by the truckload with willful abandon, not caring where they came from or if they had the playboy bunny gene which predisposes one to make more babies than they can keep track of. Apparently, we’ve become quite popular in the cat community as the good samaritans/suckers of Gov. Ramos Avenue that strange cats would just show up on our doorstop, expectant and waiting to be taken in and fed and bathed. There has never been a more implicit display of effective word-of-mouth marketing than in our extended household.
Them cats are like family that sometimes it’s hard to tell apart my brothers from the short-hairs lolling about the house with a languorous air of entitlement. If the kitties make a boo-boo, Dad would scold them in the same way he would us kids, and even practice his corny jokes on them every chance he could. Ina/Grandma was once in tears, heartbroken, when Faisal, my brother, accidentally ran over the dazzlingly white kitty that was everyone's favorite then because it had the misfortune of playing in the yard when brother dearest was pulling the car up into the driveway one night. If anyone in my family had an allergy to the cat species, even if it killed them, they'd better get over it real quick lest they risk being booted from hearth and home where our furry, feline adoptees are deemed little overlords.
Right below is how Dad would look like in a classic family scenario if we turn feline in our next lives. Except that maybe it should be "7pm" instead of "11pm". Dad's old school like that.
I super love the furry, merry brood of critters in this selection. Looking at them, I hate to say it but I'm going "Awwww..." all over again. Sappy, I know. But what can I do? These pics instantly tug and poke at certain parts of my heart. Damn cute.
Photos courtesy of icanhascheezburger.
Friday, January 18, 2008
The Contender Asia Premiere
All right. Since I think the sudden traffic buildup in this here site must be caused in major part by the timely interest in the debut of The Contender Asia, I figure I should join the bandwagon and provide a sort of review on the first episode of the newest reality show on AXN (aired first last Wednesday and replaying this Saturday at 8am and 6pm).
So what do I think about the premiere? Let me break it down for y'all in bite-sized pieces.
The Lineup
The Contender Asia is White Boy's Land! And about half of them aren't even from Asia! Funny, I know. I checked out the profile of the 16 contenders even before the promotional vids were released and saw that the mix was pretty diverse all right, but it's something else to be seeing them move and speak on the show.
But it's all good, really. I think it makes more business sense to include such a broad scope of geographic representation (there's France, Sweden, and even Croatia!). You have to admit, it makes the case for building Muay Thai up as an uber interesting alternative spectator sport more viable. First off, the fighters could very well be part of the lineup for a United Colors of Benetton ad (for the sportswear collection, if there ever was one). And the more "colorful" the cast of characters in a production, the more engrossing the show could be, hence furthering marketability. As a Muay Thai fan, I sure want to see this happen.
Then there's the language issue. As viewers may have noticed, the powerhouse contenders--them Thais, Yodsaenklai and Naruepol--hardly speak as much English as we offspring of this sprawling, Westernized TV society would prefer. Of course, it's not that they can't speak the language (even if this is so, I don't think it should be the foremost concern of any potential fan of the show); it's just that they don't as much as the others. Which would put them in a slight disadvantage in terms of easy adoption by non-Thai-speaking boob tube cultures. Then again, one could easily point out, "That's what the subtitles are for." Touché.
(By the way, please note that the term "white boy" is not used herein as a derogatory term, or even to suggest a marked demarcation between the races. This is used to describe the irony of the situation. And by irony I don't mean sarcasm. I understand a little, even just a teensy weensy bit, about this thing called globalization and the ongoing melting pot phenomenon, and I don't wish to marginalize in any way any group anywhere, as we are all products of the history of the same world. Bow.)
The Technical
I think the production looks a bit low-budget for something that's from the camp of mega-producer Mark Burnett. By low-budget I mean the feel of the overall quality of the production. (Think getting more bang for your buck.) Although this seems to be the case as well for regional spin-off shows from the US like The Amazing Race, I think the guys behind TCA could have done better.
That being said, I would like to see the cameramen around the ring during the end-of-show fights employ more strategic subterfuge methods to make themselves look scarce. It's a little distracting, really, particularly when the fighters hit the ropes for some clinch action, you tend to go, "Oh the camera guy, he's in the way, he might get thrown off the ring!" And I think the panning of the shots all across the ring could be a little less erratic. Think something along the lines of the UFC or even The Ultimate Fighter. And maybe if they could position the referee to be standing by the side of the fighters in the shots so that you get a sense of only two people fighting in the match, that would also be great. It's not too much to ask, is it? (I know, I notice too much.)
The Sport
Overall, as much as I predict that the show's explosive fights will inspire prospective audiences outside the expected Muay Thai-practicing fanbase to tune in, I think TCA's initial adoption will be borne to a considerable extent by the strong worldwide branding of its parent production. Even though the US show is a boxing competition, its popularity will well enough carry over to TCA, helping the newbie in its bid to make a dent on the Asian entertainment sports market.
As a sport, boxing has left an indelible imprint on the collective consciousness of sports fans all over the world. I can't begin to try guessing how this imprint looks like, and even more so how this was shaped. Suffice it to say that as like-minded enthusiasts become more enamored by the spectacle of combat sports, we shall perceive a more resounding clamor for alternative, derivative forms of boxing, if only to satiate our vicarious lust for variety and the increasingly exotic. Being the "Art of the Eight Limbs", Muay Thai is all that and more. It's not just a sporting phenomenon that's taking rings all around the world by storm; it's something that we can all connect to. It is survival of the fittest to the core, and we are all fighting the same fight. And that is why I think Muay Thai and TCA are here to stay.
So what do I think about the premiere? Let me break it down for y'all in bite-sized pieces.
The Lineup
The Contender Asia is White Boy's Land! And about half of them aren't even from Asia! Funny, I know. I checked out the profile of the 16 contenders even before the promotional vids were released and saw that the mix was pretty diverse all right, but it's something else to be seeing them move and speak on the show.
But it's all good, really. I think it makes more business sense to include such a broad scope of geographic representation (there's France, Sweden, and even Croatia!). You have to admit, it makes the case for building Muay Thai up as an uber interesting alternative spectator sport more viable. First off, the fighters could very well be part of the lineup for a United Colors of Benetton ad (for the sportswear collection, if there ever was one). And the more "colorful" the cast of characters in a production, the more engrossing the show could be, hence furthering marketability. As a Muay Thai fan, I sure want to see this happen.
Then there's the language issue. As viewers may have noticed, the powerhouse contenders--them Thais, Yodsaenklai and Naruepol--hardly speak as much English as we offspring of this sprawling, Westernized TV society would prefer. Of course, it's not that they can't speak the language (even if this is so, I don't think it should be the foremost concern of any potential fan of the show); it's just that they don't as much as the others. Which would put them in a slight disadvantage in terms of easy adoption by non-Thai-speaking boob tube cultures. Then again, one could easily point out, "That's what the subtitles are for." Touché.
(By the way, please note that the term "white boy" is not used herein as a derogatory term, or even to suggest a marked demarcation between the races. This is used to describe the irony of the situation. And by irony I don't mean sarcasm. I understand a little, even just a teensy weensy bit, about this thing called globalization and the ongoing melting pot phenomenon, and I don't wish to marginalize in any way any group anywhere, as we are all products of the history of the same world. Bow.)
The Technical
I think the production looks a bit low-budget for something that's from the camp of mega-producer Mark Burnett. By low-budget I mean the feel of the overall quality of the production. (Think getting more bang for your buck.) Although this seems to be the case as well for regional spin-off shows from the US like The Amazing Race, I think the guys behind TCA could have done better.
That being said, I would like to see the cameramen around the ring during the end-of-show fights employ more strategic subterfuge methods to make themselves look scarce. It's a little distracting, really, particularly when the fighters hit the ropes for some clinch action, you tend to go, "Oh the camera guy, he's in the way, he might get thrown off the ring!" And I think the panning of the shots all across the ring could be a little less erratic. Think something along the lines of the UFC or even The Ultimate Fighter. And maybe if they could position the referee to be standing by the side of the fighters in the shots so that you get a sense of only two people fighting in the match, that would also be great. It's not too much to ask, is it? (I know, I notice too much.)
The Sport
Overall, as much as I predict that the show's explosive fights will inspire prospective audiences outside the expected Muay Thai-practicing fanbase to tune in, I think TCA's initial adoption will be borne to a considerable extent by the strong worldwide branding of its parent production. Even though the US show is a boxing competition, its popularity will well enough carry over to TCA, helping the newbie in its bid to make a dent on the Asian entertainment sports market.
As a sport, boxing has left an indelible imprint on the collective consciousness of sports fans all over the world. I can't begin to try guessing how this imprint looks like, and even more so how this was shaped. Suffice it to say that as like-minded enthusiasts become more enamored by the spectacle of combat sports, we shall perceive a more resounding clamor for alternative, derivative forms of boxing, if only to satiate our vicarious lust for variety and the increasingly exotic. Being the "Art of the Eight Limbs", Muay Thai is all that and more. It's not just a sporting phenomenon that's taking rings all around the world by storm; it's something that we can all connect to. It is survival of the fittest to the core, and we are all fighting the same fight. And that is why I think Muay Thai and TCA are here to stay.
Novocaine
I see them
Everywhere, everyone
It hurts to see them
It hurts how much I used to care
"I don't want to lie, I can't tell the truth.."
That I can't be with anyone
Who causes me pain.
Just like a root canal, you don't want it, but you damn sure need it.
"It's a self-preservation thing."
(And no, this isn't a poem.)
Everywhere, everyone
It hurts to see them
It hurts how much I used to care
"I don't want to lie, I can't tell the truth.."
That I can't be with anyone
Who causes me pain.
Just like a root canal, you don't want it, but you damn sure need it.
"It's a self-preservation thing."
(And no, this isn't a poem.)
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Young Love, Sweet Love
You know children are growing up when they start asking questions that have answers. - John J. Plomp
Ta-dah! Below are my super duper fave foreign films of all time (with the appended time of reference being the years I watched them):
Jeux d'enfants (Love Me If You Dare) (2006)
Loosely translated, the French title would mean "child's play". Or "games of children", to be more exact. I got myself a copy of the movie in 2006 and watched it for the first time at home in ole ZC during Christmas break. Of course, inspired by the spirit of giving, I just had to share the gift of discovery to everyone I knew. Coming back to Manila post-holiday, I tried hard-selling the film, lending my DVD copy to anyone who would care to bring it home.
Jeux d'enfants is a cute, modern tale about a couple of childhood best friends who fall in love when they grow older and then hate each other when they grow yet older. And then finally, they entomb themselves together in the end when they realize they could no longer live without each other. Seriously. (Sorry for the spoiler!) It's really sad. But not in a tearjerky kind of way. On the other hand, if you're an endorphin junkie, then good for you. Throughout the movie you can't help but curl your toes at the kilig moments between the two lovers. Even in the midst of all-out war and mayhem, the hero and heroine manage to glower at each other with gut-wrenching love. You can't say the French don't know a thing or two about romance.
What else can I say, the story's beautiful, the cinematography's beautiful, the kids are beautiful. If not for the sort of bittersweet ending, you'd be concluding "life is beautiful." Even more significant, it's not over the top (read: cringey) like other well-loved love stories out there. Its hypnotic storyline alternately teeters on the edge of frustration and salvation, and then, as if coming home from a NY Eve party having had too much champagne to drink, you come dizzily crashing back to earth at the end of it all. Viva Cuba (2007)
Do not be daunted by the mishmash of French and Spanish words spattered all over the sites I linked to, my friend. Click away on whatever you fancy, just as little children would finger strange things on the ground with wide-eyed adventurism.
Viva Cuba is que adorable! The critically acclaimed film wins you over with its straightforward narrative and whimsical appeal. The kid actors are a joy to watch. They might as well be the real thing. Throughout filming, they chose to work without a script, which helped furnish the film with a natural, relaxed feel that is easily engaging. If I'm not mistaken, it was their first acting job. As far as I'm concerned, them kids rocked it hard and out of the playpen. Plus, I have to admit, it totally helps that Jorgito, the young hero, looks a tad like my youngest brother, Rocky (no kidding!). I guess that's what makes this movie all the more special to me.
The film is a delicate surprise. Despite the seemingly serious, quasi-political tone the title instantly brings to mind, Viva Cuba has captured the essence of friendship and woven it into a delightful tapestry of childish banter and harebrained misadventures that has no other place than on a pedestal for kids of all ages to behold. You're bound to develop six-packs just laughing over the mundane things you wish you had done when you still had societal license.
Of course, the undercurrent theme of juvenile love always hovering over the young protagonists as they hitchhike their way from home to the other end of Cuba makes you go, "Oh no, I hope they don't go all Dawson's Creek on me." But no worries. The ending mirrors a little that of Jeux d'enfants, hanging just a wee bit more obtrusively. Then again that's just my take. Anyone else would probably conclude the obvious. No matter, since it's really the middle and even the beginning that are the cake and food and drink of the whole film. It's the proverbial journey that makes life worth living. And since hope is most abundant in youth, life really is worth living as a child.
Viva Cuba is a truly memorable film that cuts across cultures and ages, whether chronological or emotional. It’s cinematic treasures like this that remind me why I love watching movies. Watching the credits roll up, you feel like sitting back in your cushy seat and letting the good sensations roll over you, like the waves that are shown at the end of the movie. Somehow you feel as if your soul can rest easy with the knowledge that no matter who you are, no matter what you've done, at least the one good thing that has happened to you was that you were once (if not still are) a kid. And that makes all the difference in the world.
Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. - Kahlil Gibran
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Show Time: The Contender Asia
So here it is, folks. The moment I've been waiting for.=P
So I've resigned myself to the perpetuation of my current affliction. I'm letting insomnia claim me whole, body and soul. So much for perennial NY resolution number 2.
Why the reference to sleeplessness, you ask? Because The Contender has several contenders for the plum, exclusive viewership in our household. There's the first few matches of this year's Australian Open airing live and going for reruns just about 24/7 for the latter part of this month. And let me not forget, there's also the premiere of American Idol Season 6 showing on Star World. Now as is quite obvious, Muay Thai ain't at the forefront of mainstream couch potato consciousness. Whereas what do you get when you pit the likes of tennis rockstars Federer, Nadal, and that beautiful rake from Russia, Marat, against a catty Brit music producer-slash-judge and his posse of toothy American Dreamers? Instant ratings.
Okay, I know, too many references. What it all basically means is, the battle for the remote is on.
So I've resigned myself to the perpetuation of my current affliction. I'm letting insomnia claim me whole, body and soul. So much for perennial NY resolution number 2.
Why the reference to sleeplessness, you ask? Because The Contender has several contenders for the plum, exclusive viewership in our household. There's the first few matches of this year's Australian Open airing live and going for reruns just about 24/7 for the latter part of this month. And let me not forget, there's also the premiere of American Idol Season 6 showing on Star World. Now as is quite obvious, Muay Thai ain't at the forefront of mainstream couch potato consciousness. Whereas what do you get when you pit the likes of tennis rockstars Federer, Nadal, and that beautiful rake from Russia, Marat, against a catty Brit music producer-slash-judge and his posse of toothy American Dreamers? Instant ratings.
Okay, I know, too many references. What it all basically means is, the battle for the remote is on.
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Happy Happy!
Ah, yes. I'm at it again. Still here, still.. well, here. Picked up right where I left off, overtime overdrive. Where has all the never-ending self-bashing gone?
***
So I spent last New Year's Eve hobnobbing with fellow Makati-lites at the Countdown to 2008 Bash over at Ayala. Sweet. It felt like college all over again, except that we were rocking to the likes of the Bloomfields and the Itchyworms alongside the likes of Victor Basa and Teddy Boy Locsin. Yep, you read right. Mr. Congressman with his cute lil grandboy perched on top of his shoulders, à la Woodstock '69. That scene reminded me of all the reasons that I absolutely love the New Year celebration. Never mind the summertime; NY Eve is the ultimate time and place to be.
So I have to say, it was the first time I spent the holidays away from home, far, far away from the city that sleeps a little too early but parties hard on NY Eve. I thought I could take it. But it was damn hard. Good thing there was raucous music and the eye-blistering burst of fireworks c/o the city government of Makati to distract me from thoughts of home, of dad and the kids lighting up illegal firework-like thingies all over the backyard and just generally trying to outdo and out-obnoxify the neighbors. It was hard, but I managed to have a scream of a good time. How could I not, with Lej clutching at my arm, leading our twosome in an impromptu jumping jacks in place showdown. "You never know if our growth spurt might still come," she proclaimed amid the fantastic popping of lights and stars in the sky. I thought people our age stopped subscribing to such things. Apparently, Lej is an even bigger optimist than I credit her for. Which is exactly why we're buddies to the end.
Apart from the celebrity eyeballing, we bumped into a couple of equally suave-looking orgmates from MSA (Aldean and Assad), exchanged working profile details and calling cards with them (as opposed to numbers, coz I couldn't get my cellphone to behave appropriately at the time), and ate ourselves into a morning-after tummyache (oh right, that's just me again). We also ruminated on a great many things, not the least of which was our perennially blissful state of you-know-what. Yep, we give new meaning to the term "sistahs in da 'Hood". Yes, that 'hood, all right.
The night ended not really with a bang but on a crackling, "I miss it already" note. We stayed out and chewed the fat until 3am to try to hold on to the wispy remains of the year we both started really living.
***
Happy Blistering New Year, folks! Another year to live fast and party hard like it's 1999!
***
So I spent last New Year's Eve hobnobbing with fellow Makati-lites at the Countdown to 2008 Bash over at Ayala. Sweet. It felt like college all over again, except that we were rocking to the likes of the Bloomfields and the Itchyworms alongside the likes of Victor Basa and Teddy Boy Locsin. Yep, you read right. Mr. Congressman with his cute lil grandboy perched on top of his shoulders, à la Woodstock '69. That scene reminded me of all the reasons that I absolutely love the New Year celebration. Never mind the summertime; NY Eve is the ultimate time and place to be.
So I have to say, it was the first time I spent the holidays away from home, far, far away from the city that sleeps a little too early but parties hard on NY Eve. I thought I could take it. But it was damn hard. Good thing there was raucous music and the eye-blistering burst of fireworks c/o the city government of Makati to distract me from thoughts of home, of dad and the kids lighting up illegal firework-like thingies all over the backyard and just generally trying to outdo and out-obnoxify the neighbors. It was hard, but I managed to have a scream of a good time. How could I not, with Lej clutching at my arm, leading our twosome in an impromptu jumping jacks in place showdown. "You never know if our growth spurt might still come," she proclaimed amid the fantastic popping of lights and stars in the sky. I thought people our age stopped subscribing to such things. Apparently, Lej is an even bigger optimist than I credit her for. Which is exactly why we're buddies to the end.
Apart from the celebrity eyeballing, we bumped into a couple of equally suave-looking orgmates from MSA (Aldean and Assad), exchanged working profile details and calling cards with them (as opposed to numbers, coz I couldn't get my cellphone to behave appropriately at the time), and ate ourselves into a morning-after tummyache (oh right, that's just me again). We also ruminated on a great many things, not the least of which was our perennially blissful state of you-know-what. Yep, we give new meaning to the term "sistahs in da 'Hood". Yes, that 'hood, all right.
The night ended not really with a bang but on a crackling, "I miss it already" note. We stayed out and chewed the fat until 3am to try to hold on to the wispy remains of the year we both started really living.
***
Happy Blistering New Year, folks! Another year to live fast and party hard like it's 1999!
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