The Glory of Instant Fame and the Gore After the Instant Fall

I remember about five or so years ago, I'd marvel at how mesmerised a lot of Filipinos were by the voice of Charice Pempengco.  She was such a joy to listen to--hitting those high notes and diva-ishly belting out lofty pieces like it was nobody's business.  I'm not gonna lie: though I wasn't particularly a fan, I did acknowledge her talent even though a lot of my closest friends couldn't care less.  She was an instant sensation!

A few years after her discovery, her subsequent entry into the battle stage of non-minor-age-artists and her conversion to Roman Catholicism, she seemed unstoppable.  Her fan base sky-rocketed and I was beginning to get annoyed by how everyone at my old office--especially the camp men--couldn't stop blabbering about her.  Even when they'd talk about their favourite topic--Miss Universe--they'd still manage to get Charice into the picture, often describing her with superlatives and calling her "queen."  That didn't sit well with me because, as far as I was concerned, the league of musical queens had Julie, Babs, Bernadette, Lea and Elaine in it among other greats.  How dare they push their teenage queen agenda?  I later brushed it off, of course, coming to terms with the fact that tastes differ.  "What do these people know of real music, anyway?" I said in my head.  Then I gasped.  Was I beginning to develop an aversion for Charice because I was jealous of the attention she was getting which the musical goddess I knew and worshipped didn't get at the time?

No.  No.  No.  No.  No.

Well, maybe.

I remember getting into a petty Facebook argument with a friend once.  He posted a link to a video of Charice singing Carousel's "You'll Never Walk Alone" and captioned it with "I wonder if anyone could do better than this."

I then posted a link to a video of Barbra Streisand singing the same song as a tribute to 9/11 heroes and victims and captioned it with something like, "The youngsters may belt their lungs out but this true diva sings with her soul.  And, yes, this one definitely did better."  I didn't link him to this video; I just posted it on my wall but he reacted through a comment--fully knowing I was attacking his link and his opinion about Charice--telling me to wait 'til Charice ages and saying something quite akin to "she'll be the most sophisticated red wine."  I was, like, "Pffffff! Yeah, right."

As I predicted years ago, it has happened.  She has lost social relevance and she's asking questions like "Do they still love me?" and sort of hinting on Filipino society's general adverse attitude towards LGBTs as the reason for the loss of her fame.  Well, the lesbianism certainly isn't the problem.  Look at Aiza Seguerra.  She can still pull off attention when and how she wants.

And, of course, we still love you, Charice.  You were an instant sensation who brought us joy at one point.  But the thing is, there's a problem with two expressions I used in that previous sentence:  instant and at one point.  The former means you didn't gradually build up your ability to draw attention; you were thrown there by YouTube and Ellen.  The latter, on the other hand, means "not anymore."  The one point you brought most of us joy isn't this point.  It was a point before this point and that point has, sadly, seen its time and vanished.  We still genuinely love you--just not the same way.

I'm sorry this had to happen to you but it was inevitable.  From the beginning of your career as a young belter on Ellen and Oprah, people have predicted that you wouldn't last very long.  Sure, you lasted long but not long enough, apparently.  You still saw yourself fall.  Looking at you breaking down on YouTube videos after your skirmish with your mother about your sexuality lost social attention (I bet you thought that was gonna last a while, didn't ya?) makes me think of what happened to Sunset Boulevard's Norma Desmond after the era of silent films got trampled on my the "sacred microphones" and the dawn of spoken scripts.

I feel bad for you.  I really do.

A few friends of mine--even a cousin who happens to be a close friend of yours--might jump at the first opportunity to deny that you're losing your mojo and they can do it all they want but they can't do anything fix the bones you've broken because of your fall.  They may wipe the blood away and hide the gore--possibly even help your wounds heal--but not change the fact that you have fallen fast and hit ground very, very hard.  Some people are known to have risen above their fall.  Unfortunately, you aren't likely to be one of them.  This is the age of YouTube and Facebook.  There will be and there are countless others who will achieve your level of fame.  They will come storming in--each dimming your non-existent-to-begin-with chance of ever owning the limelight again.  This is the age of online freeforalls where even the likes of Nicki Minaj can, in less than 10 years, achieve fame and attention parallel to the kind Barbra Streisand worked 20 to achieve.  Of course, it's a different kind of fame.  Babs was never known to strut her stuff to gain the media's eye but, nevertheless, attention is fame and fame is money.

The main difference is this:  Babs has been known to lie low for certain periods of time but then she returns with a blast.  Cher and Madonna have done the same.  Julie Andrews, too.  So has Patti LuPone and many the likes of them.  They all have decided to give it a bit of a rest at one point but their comebacks were all the rage in the lines of show business they are in.  However, when Nicki Minaj falls, she's never going anywhere near where she is now. Her fall will be a real one--not a low hover.  Her fall will be just like yours, Charice.  I'm really sorry about this.  I know none of this is your fault.  This is just how society is.  As a student of social science, I'm looking at this from a purely sociological point-of-view--not from a prejudicial one, as some may assume.  I do think you're a really good singer but you just didn't have the right tools to keep people hooked.  "Good" just doesn't quite cut it.

This is what happens to people who are shot from the ground up the summit of Mt. Everest without caring to learn the art of mountaineering or without at least bringing equipment that will enable them to cling to the rocks and the ice on the mountain top and keep themselves from rolling down.

There's nothing to do but begin the getting over process.  Let me say it again:  None of this is your fault.  Just like how you didn't have to constantly shed bloody sweat for 20 years to achieve that level of fame, you didn't do anything to cause your fall either.  It's just how it is and you just have to live with it.

Of course, I could be wrong.  It's not like I'm a sage or anything.  I'm just a heavily opinionated prick.  I don't think I'm wrong, though.  I COULD BE!  But I just don't think I am.  Sorry.

If you are in the sky because you took the time to grow your wings and you experienced the necessary pain that comes with learning how to fly, you will soar.  You can come down as slowly or as fast as you want but you will never hit the ground and you know you can always fly back up as high as you were before--or even higher--whenever you want to.

If, however, you're in the sky because you took the easy way up and allowed yourself to be catapulted without being equipped to fly, you will fall faster than you rose up.  You will come down with a massive, maiming BANG that will leave you lying there, helpless, incapable of even standing up, left to watch those who are soaring, regretting why you ever decided to get on that trebuchet in the first place.

Yes, the glory of instantly rising to fame is awesome but the pain of losing social relevance, being ignored and, ultimately, forgotten is like having a spoon forced through your abdomen--unless, perhaps, you've somehow mastered detachment from worldly things.

LifestyleBohol * You Have the Right to Remain Miserable: A Review of the musical film, Les Misérables

The iconic woodcut image of Cosette, which represents Les Misérables, is given a whole new life through this poster.

This review article is an improved and slightly longer version of the one I wrote for the February 3rd, 2013 issue of LifestyleBohol.  Why longer?  Because I included a few more things that the paper didn't have enough room for.

Enjoy reading!

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So I’ve been asked to do a review of the film, Les Misérables, for today’s issue and I must say I’ve resisted the urge to write one right after seeing the film for the first time in the cinema.  I told myself, “After I see it a second time, I’ll speak my mind.”  Well, I’ve now seen it five times and still haven’t come up with one.  I’ve exhausted every possible excuse I could use on myself so I decided against using any of them in response to the editor when she texted me asking me for my review.  It’s high time, I guess.  And who better to read it than the people of Bohol, right?

Before I give you my review, you must note my appreciation isn’t limited to films.  I’m quite an aficionado when it comes to art and its many forms and I’m going to dissect Les Misérables for the musical film that it is and not merely as a regular cinema flick that makes up 95% of the things shown on HBO and Star Movies.  Also, you must not read this piece the same way you read a review by Rotten Tomatoes because I personally don’t see eye-to-eye with that website and I don’t know why people still trust them as a film critiquing institution when they clearly have a difficulty recognizing art even when it’s staring them in the eye.  However, I have to say this is one of the few instances when my opinion actually matches theirs to a surprisingly broad degree.

Come and let me take you for a review ride!

First of all, you have to understand that Tom Hooper’s most recent work isn’t an ordinary film and isn’t an ordinary musical either.  You can’t judge it based on a set of criteria you have for either art form.  This belongs in a completely different league.  If you only love films but not musicals, you can’t appreciate it.  The same could be said if you only love musicals performed on a theatre stage but not films.

For those of you that don’t know, here’s a little backstory of how the film came to be:  Les Misérables is a novel written by the French author Victor Hugo, first published in 1862.  It has seen so many adaptations.  Films, plays and television miniseries have been produced over the last century.  Of these, the most famous and enduring take on the story is the sung-through musical by French composer Claude-Michel Schönberg and lyricists Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel, which has been improved several times and translated to at least 13 languages from its original conception in French.  By the way, by “sung-though,” I mean absolutely everything in the original musical was sung and there were no spoken lines.  The novel’s most recent adaptation is obviously the one we’re talking about—not an original take on the text by Hugo but an adaptation of the musical.  It’s basically an adaptation of an adaptation.  If you think I used the word “adaptation” too many times in this paragraph, you may be right but it still doesn’t beat how many of them actually exist.

To start, I wish to laude the actors, the producers and the director involved in the film.  This project was indubitably brave.  They did something that has never been successfully done in the history of film making.  Unlike every other musical film made before it, where the singing was pre-recorded in a studio, they went against the norm and began a revolution where the songs were recorded in the very moments they were being filmed as opposed to lip-synching to playback tracks of their own voices.  That way, the film was very much like an actual stage performance.  Every raw emotion emanating from them, manifested by their singing voices, was captured and ultimately immortalized.

Let me add that this brave feat was also the most practical course of action for the film because, unlike most musicals where most of the dialog is normally spoken and they just break into song on certain significant moments, the original material was sung-through so if they had done it the regular way and made pre-recordings, they would well have pre-recorded everything.  Moreover, you may ask why there were actual spoken lines in the film when I specifically said everything in the original musical was sung.  This was because the screenwriters had to compromise a little bit to add emotion to certain lines used in specific moments.  A good example was the instant right before Fantine was thrown out of the factory, when she called out to the mayor and exclaimed, “Please, monsieur, I have a child.”  That line was absent from the musical but it added a tinge of realism to the film; that’s why they added it and made it a spoken line rather than sung.

Avid fans of the stage musical may remark that the singing was off-key in a lot of instances and that they differed heavily from how things went about on stage.  True.  Very true.  It’s an established fact that the artistic material they were dealing with in the making of the film was made for the stage so without a shadow of a doubt, the theatre is its true home.  With that said, however, film-making is an entirely different avenue where artists are afforded certain liberties that do not exist in a theatre—as much as there are liberties afforded by theatre that could never be matched by film-making.

Let’s imagine parallel scenarios.  The actor playing Jean Valjean on stage couldn’t possibly be allowed to shed as many tears as Hugh Jackman did while singing his soliloquy, “What Have I Done.”  Too many tears will cause fluids to accumulate in the throat and that is a sure way to momentarily diminish vocal quality—which is a huge NO-NO in musical theatre.  Also, while a stage performance would be very aurally pleasing, an everyday person—who doesn’t appreciate theatre as much as real theatre patrons—would never be able to derive any emotion from it simply by listening to clear and crisp lyrics.  That was achieved in the film but they had to compromise on enunciation and voice quality because it was something that required actual tears dripping out of the actor’s face, which was to be filmed at a very close angle.  You can’t say Hugh was bad just because of that.  Are you kidding me?  He was great!

You must remember that musical films are generally made so the material in the musicals may be available to everyone—to the masses, the people who don’t actually have P3,000 to spend to see it in a live theatre, the people who don’t understand theatre in the first place.  Think about it.

Let’s go back to Hugh Jackman.  The only less-than-positive sentiment I have about his portrayal was when he sang the aria, “Bring Him Home,” his prayer for the sleeping Marius.  I’m so used to it being performed beginning with gentle notes, with strength fluctuating from gentle to strong to gentle to strong to gentle as the song goes on.  Colm Wilkinson set the standard for this.  Go check out his performance on YouTube if you want to know what I mean.  Hugh, on the other hand, began with solid notes and retained the same quality throughout the entire song.  That made it really awkward for me but it was forgiveable.

This is the perfect moment, I believe, to mention how much I loved the man who played the Bishop of Digne—who fed Jean Valjean, allowed him to stay in his home for the night and even gave him silver the day after so he may have a chance to renew his life in the way of God.  For the information of those who don’t know, that man is no other than Colm Wilkinson, the standard-setter I mentioned in the previous paragraph.  He was the original Jean Valjean in the first English language production of Les Misérables in London’s West End way back in 1985.  And while we’re on this subject, I was really happy to see him in place of Eponine at the end of the film to greet Jean Valjean’s soul.

Alright, now it’s time to revel in the fact that Anne Hathaway’s performance as Fantine was an absolute marvel.  I have never encountered anybody who disagrees with me in this.  She perfectly pulled off her transition from being a humble factory worker to being a sacrificing, loving mother to being a prostitute to being a dying hospital patient.  I only have positive words for her interpretation of the character.  It was impeccable!  I blame her for my first continuous flow of tears while in the cinema.  I mean, come on!  Who can hold back from shedding a few good drops when Anne sang Fantine’s most famous aria, “I Dreamed a Dream”?  To say it was heart-wrenching would be an understatement.

I really appreciate how the movie included a scene where she sold her teeth.  It was a key point in the book which really made me sob and howl loudly while reading it but it was completely absent from the stage musical.  Then again, it wouldn’t have been practical on stage.  See, this is another one of those film-production-afforded liberties I was talking about earlier.

After Fantine’s death, we are introduced to M. and Mme. Thenardier, the vile and corrupt innkeepers under whose care Cosette was entrusted.  They are, without a doubt, favorites in the musical.  They add a tinge of humor to what would otherwise be a very dark and depressing show.  While I like how the schemes of the couple were illustrated in the film, I wasn’t particularly as amused as I expected to be.  I guess that’s another musical-to-film reality we’re all going to have to deal with.  It wasn’t the perfect “Master of the House” performance I was readying myself to see for over a year but it was actually good in its own right.  I certainly wasn’t laughing my ass off but I bore witness to an interpretation of the characters that was a bit closer to their grim and dark personas than how the musical portrays them.  Honestly, I don’t have any other people in mind to play the couple but Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter.  They’re veterans when it comes to dark humor in films.  It’s just a pity that Sacha didn’t get to sing his big solo number in the sewers.  Then again, it would have dragged the suspense out of Valjean rescuing the dying Marius if they’d persisted in inserting that song.

So right after Jean Valjean escapes with young Cosette—after that beautiful new song that the composers had written just for the musical, a song which I really, really loved, by the way—we are introduced to a different world.  From the filthy streets of that small town where our main character was the mayor, we are flung to Paris in 1832.  I was really happy to see the crumbling plaster model of the Elephant of the Bastille that Gavroche supposedly called home.  That boy, Daniel Huttlestone, who played the character, was really good, by the way.

A little later, we are introduced to the student revolutionaries who will eventually die in the June Rebellion—the most important characters being Enjolras, their leader, and Marius, the man who will eventually be Cosette’s husband.  Another notable character we see around this time is Eponine, the previously pampered daughter of the Thenardier couple who has now been reduced to a street waif thanks to poverty.  She is played by Samantha Barks, the same actress who played her in the 25th Anniversary concert special of the musical.  Interestingly, I was more drawn to her less-belty and more emotionally raw performance of the song, “On My Own” in the film.  I didn’t like her in that Anniversary special, to be honest, but in the film she was stunning.  Her eyes took me to places I know I had been before, as much as I’d like to deny it.  Who hasn’t been in her position at one point in life?  My only disappointment in the film regarding its take on Eponine wasn’t in Samantha’s performance but in the fact that they omitted a few lines from her songs—her aria, which I already mentioned, and “A Little Fall of Rain,” a duet she shares with Marius a short moment before her character dies.

Did I say Marius?  Oh, yeah, I most definitely did!  They were right to choose Eddie Redmayne for the part because while the vocal prowess of Aaron Tveit, who played Enjolras the revolutionary student leader, was stern and strong, Eddie’s was slightly more dreamy and relaxed, which made him sound convincingly in love.  Grown-up Cosette, on the other hand, played by Amanda Seyfried, whom some of us know from the musical film “Mamma Mia,” may not have been the best soprano in a line of many but she certainly convinced me of the sentiments she sang about.  Her voice had a warm and innocent tone that made me sympathetic to her character.  Whenever I see the stage musical, I’m always inclined to care only about Eponine and her unrequited love for Marius.  In the film, however, Eponine and Cosette shared my attention.

Anyway, let’s go back to Marius.  Near the end of the film, there is an aria that belongs to him.  It’s called “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables,” which happens to be one of my favorite songs of the musical.  Eddie’s interpretation was absolutely brilliant!  It literally got me pulling my collar down in a helpless fit of noisy sobbing inside the cinema.  Most of the arias in the film were worth tears but this one just made me lose it completely!  I didn’t care that I was in there with other people.  His performance added a ton of weight to my already sunken heart that I ended up remembering the dear people in my own life that had passed away.  Such a moment, that was!

And now we come to the cherry on the sundae:  Russell Crowe.  So many people found his performance disappointing primarily because of his lack of vocal prowess compared to the rest of the cast.  I can’t blame them for saying such things.  One could even say that a random man playing a beggar among the rest of the film’s amazing and awesome ensemble could have done a better job at singing Javert’s parts than Russell.  As far as the film and the musical are concerned, Javert is the main antagonist and is regarded as a primary lead along with Jean Valjean.  And while it doesn’t take a musical genius to realize that he’s not cut out for show tunes, theatre patrons like me will rant about how deep the injustice was that he committed against his arias, “Stars” and the soliloquy “Javert’s Suicide.”

No matter how much I try to comfort myself with the idea that the producers must have had a justifiable reason for picking Russell to play the part, I still can’t seem to get over the fact that he just wasn’t right for it.  I didn’t feel a strong resentment towards Javert like I was supposed to.  I’m sorry, Russell Crowe is an amazing actor but he could have done so much better.  His conviction that the law, as coined by man with the guidance of God, is the basis of social order and must be obeyed regardless of the needs of humanity was supposed to be portrayed in his first aria, “Stars,” but all I thought about while watching and listening to him singing it was “What if he falls off that ledge?”  It just wasn’t right.

I know I mentioned something about the ensemble already but I believe it wasn’t enough.  They were really awesome and they deserve a long standing ovation.  They were the golden threads that allowed the musical to be sewn together.  If you’ve seen the musical, you might notice that the song “Do You Hear the People Sing” is originally placed differently from its turn in the film.  In the latter, it is sung when the revolutionaries start to rally people up—just moments before they build the barricades.  The presence of a full ensemble was really inspiring.  It gave the song more meaning to me than its original placement in the stage musical.  Come to think of it, all major musical numbers involving the voices of the people of the ensemble were simply breathtaking.  “One Day More,” my absolute favorite song from the musical, is another testament to that.

Over all, I give the film 4 out of 5 stars.  There are a lot of points for criticism but so much more that are deserving of high praises and long, deafening moments of applause.  I was certainly blown away, if that’s what you were looking to read.  More than that, hard-hearted friends of mine were even reduced to a teary pulp by the film’s sheer power.  Okay, I need to stop typing now.

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Seen on Print:

LifestyleBohol * At the End of the Day: A Review of Les Misérables (in Bohol)

This review article's text is exactly as it appears on the August 5th, 2012 issue of LifestyleBohol.  Of course, since this is a webpage, I went crazy with the photos.  I hope they don't end up making this entry confusing for anyone.

Enjoy reading!

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I was in Manila on a trip to see the French play, God of Carnage, when my Aunt Bing told me she was giving me a ticket to see Les Misérables at the Bohol Cultural Centre.  I leaped with joy!  “Two French stage shows on the same week?”  I said to myself, “It’s not even Christmas yet.  What did I do to deserve this awesomeness?”

Over a month before that day, I had known about it.  DreamBig Productions and Cre8tive Thespians Circle Inc, the Cebuano companies that brought the musical to Bohol, had created a lot of noise on Facebook about a supposed Les Miz production but I didn’t take them seriously.  I couldn’t help it; I hadn’t heard about them before and I wasn’t sure if they could deliver.  I was obviously wrong to have doubted them and my aunt’s enthusiasm for art proved to be an enormous blessing!

The Show

July 27^th, opening night, came before I knew it.  It was to be the night of “ultimate Misery,” as West End and Broadway producer Cameron Mackintosh would put it.  The ticket said the show would start at 7:00PM but we had to sit through half an hour of dead air before they actually turned the lights off and pulled the curtains up.  It wasn’t the production team’s fault, though.  The place didn’t properly fill up until 7:20.  I guess we’ve gotten used to events starting an hour behind schedule that we tend to take time for granted.

I watched the show again on the second night, where a large part of this review will be based on since I was seated nearer to the stage.  Before I go about it, however, let me make it clear that I won’t be telling the story or talking about character backstories or enumerating every single musical number in this article.  This is a review, not a summary.  If you want to know about Les Misérables, Google it or read the novel.

The show began with the familiar overture and Work Song and I was pleased when I noticed the lapel microphones sticking out of the actors’ ears, knowing the singing was live.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to endure a medley of pre-recorded tracks like I did with a few local productions in the past.  What I had to endure, though, was the very bad audio system.  While the choruses were really good, the solo lines sounded irreconcilably hollow, which was very irritating.  Add to the list of flaws the fact that some of the lapels also had problems, which rendered some songs practically inaudible to people beyond the fifth row.

Jean Valjean with the Male Ensemble in Work Song following the Overture
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Jean Valjean

I noticed that, Sonny Alquizola, the actor playing Jean Valjean had a vocal quality comparable to that of Colm Wilkinson, the Canadian tenor who originated the role in the West End and on Broadway.  When he ages considerably, there’s a good chance he might even achieve the same timbre.  My companions and I were certainly bowled over with his performance of Bring Him Home, a song written specifically for the Canadian Tenor.

Alquizola had a few difficulties here and there, but who didn’t?  His most notable predicament was in achieving a solid grip of the very lofty final note of the song Who Am I, a high B which is normally held for seven seconds.  He was also a good actor—his stage behavior changed as he supposedly got old throughout the musical.  He even added more huskiness to his voice in the latter part, which gave an extra tinge of realism to his characterization.

Jean Valjean with Marius and the Ensemble in Bring Him Home
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Inspector Javert

The main antagonist of the musical, Inspector Javert, was played by Andrew Vincent Esplanada.  His rendition of Stars was classic—punctuated with the eyes of an angry Roman god about to smite the unrighteous.  While Esplanada wasn’t quite the despicable pious prick that Javert was meant to be, he knew how to stare at Valjean and the rest of the cast with such hatred and disdain, which helped him make it perfectly clear that his character meant business.  His abuse directed towards Fantine as a prostitute made me want to throw a can of soda at him—which meant he did it right.

Jean Valjean and Inspector Javert in the duet part of Work Song
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Fantine

Gayle Marie Sinadjan, portraying Fantine, had a smooth voice with a beautiful vibrato—a cross between Joanna Ampil and Ruthie Henshall but definitely neither.  She took my heart away during The Confrontation when she sang of the character’s daughter, Cosette, as though she had a real child to sing about.  Her rendition of I Dreamed a Dream was vocally impressive but I have to say she moved way too much.  Her voice would have been enough to reduce me to a teary pulp but her physical activity while singing proved too distracting to elicit genuine sympathy.  Overall, she was very good.  Her appearance in Valjean’s Death sent chills down my spine.  It was the same experience I had when I first saw the show several years ago.

Fantine and the Foreman with the Ensemble in At the End of the Day
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Valjean and Fantine in Fantine's Death
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

The Thénardiers

Playing Monsieur and Madame Thénardier were Warren Clyde Tompong and April Anne Moncada respectively.  Oh what a comic relief those two were after a series of miserable scenes depicting death and anguish!  Tompong sang Master of the House like a pro—prancing with a naughty tiptoe all over the stage—singing about how he rips his customers off and steals from them.  He even had a faux 18^th century peasant Londoner accent.

Monsieur Thénardier with the Ensemble in Master of the House
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Moncada, on the other hand, really needs to be lauded for her amazing vocal timbre.  She would have very easily stolen the show if her part were longer.  She reminded me so much of Anne Harada, the actress who played the role on Broadway in 2006, with her amazing vocals and wily disposition.  She had the eyebrows of a typical evil villainess and she knew how to use them.  The audience cracked up in laughter when she pulled a tiny banana out while singing the line “thinks he’s quite a lover but there’s not much there.”  That’s something I haven’t seen in any other production of Les Miz.  She’s a bloody wonder!

Madame Thénardier and Young Cosette
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

It’s such a shame the producers decided to cut Beggars at the Feast, the couple’s second big song.  It would have been nice to see them back in their own number.

Marius and Cosette

I was instantly drawn by the vocal prowess of John Michael Fulgencio, who took on the role of Marius.  The moment he first opened his mouth to sing, his voice immediately reminded me of a young Michael Ball, the English tenor who originated the role in the West End.  His notes were smooth and cool—with a stupendous quality showcased when he sang Empty Chairs at Empty Tables on the second night.  On the verge of tears, I remember my cousin, Isa, saying, “He’s way better than Nick Jonas” and she was right to say so.

Marius with the Male Ensemble in Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Cosette was played by Pauline Anne Rosales, a lyric soprano.  I’m glad the production brought back the song, I Saw Him Once, which hasn’t been performed in the musical’s context since the Original West End production in 1985.  It showcased Rosales’ amazing vocal range.  Let me stress, however, that although she and Marius made a cute couple on stage, the strongest chemistry was between the latter and Eponine.

Cosette in I Saw Him Once
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Eponine

Played by Joanna Jane Ang, Eponine was a feisty female waif with a heart-rending sentiment.  Her performance of On My Own was so soul-piercing that I even heard a couple of people clearing their nostrils and throats right before the loud applause.  That could only have meant they were crying.  She portrayed her quiet pain so masterfully that it was agonizing to watch.  A Little Fall of Rain, her duet with Marius right before she dies, drove me to tears on the second night.  With everything that she did before her death, she set the right mood for the audience to weep like they lost their own friend.

Eponine in A Heart Full of Love
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot 

Marius and Eponine (centre) with the Ensemble in A Little Fall of Rain
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Enjolras

Junrey Alayacyac, the young man cast as Enjolras had a remarkable set of pipes which reminded me a lot of David Thaxton, who played the role in 2008 in the West End.  It takes a strong voice to play a leader of the June Rebellion and Alayacyac fit the description perfectly.  The hairs on the back of my neck stood when he began to sing Do You Hear the People Sing to the beat of marching drums.  It was as though he was calling on the audience to join him in battle.  He was as passionate as a real revolutionary and it was clear he was singing with heart.  Perhaps he was singing for a modern kind of revolution.

Javert (left; kneeling), Enjolras (centre) and Gavroche (extreme right) with the Ensemble in Little People
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Young Cosette and Gavroche

Of course, we have to give special mention to these two little people—children with such music-filled futures ahead of them.  It’s clear that it could only get brighter from there on.  Portrayed by Raven Chan, a treble, Young Cosette only appears twice in the entire show—first when she sings Castle on a Cloud and second when she is “bought” by Valjean from the Thenardiers where she is mostly silent.  Little Miss Chan had a memorable angelic voice, which, to this day, still rings in my head like I just heard it an hour ago.

Young Cosette in her iconic pose with the broom
To this day, this pose represents Les Misérables.
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Gavroche, the smart little urchin, was another precious character.  Actor Arjay Chan, who played the role, sang Little People bringing an adorable pause of relief for those who found the preceding events to be too heavy on the heart.  In the end, though, he dies by the guns of the enemy.  Rummaging dead bodies for bullets, Little Mister Chan made our hearts sink when he sang his final solo as his character was being shot repeatedly by the French National Guard, writhing in agony until his last note.

Gavroche in Stars
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Ensemble

I have to laud the ensemble members for their vocal abilities.  With every single number from the Work Song to the reprise of Do You Hear the People Sing, they showed how much of a formidable bunch they all were.  They must have had a very good choir master because they left me in awe every single time.  Being really close to the stage on the second night, I recognized their faces each time they assumed a different character from their last.  From singing prostitutes to mendicants in the streets of Paris to armed rebels, they took on them with all they had and nailed it with pure awesomeness.

The second night concluded with a reprise of One Day More after the curtain call—this time with members of the crew singing alongside the performers.  Everyone had genuine smiles on their faces—no longer adherent to the miserable theme of the musical—singing their hearts out, knowing they did great.  That standing ovation at the end was very well deserved, to say the least.

The Entire Cast in the Finale (Reprise of Do You Hear the People Sing)
by Karen Lara Migriño Libot

Other Matters

This show was not, in any way, sanctioned by Music Theatre International but it doesn’t matter much.  MTI is known to be very lenient with real art lovers.  What’s important is Cre8tive Thespians Circle Inc, through DreamBig Productions, came to Bohol and made us theatre junkies very happy.

For years and years, I’ve been hoping and praying for the musical theatre scene in the province to come alive and take flight again.  I hope Les Misérables’ staging would usher in more productions—even from local art groups—because having a constant urge to fly to other places just to get my fill isn’t a good feeling.  There are many who love theatre here—enough, perhaps, to give a local production company a lucrative source of income.  Who knows?

Bohol has an open door for art.  Do come in, won’t you?

http://bonbonquest.blogspot.com/

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Seen on Print:

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Scott Alan Live

Natalie Weiss, here, sings about how she's a star.  And, boy, is she!  With that voice, she could make the Titanic resurface if she wanted to!

This song, ladies and gentlemen, is the second of 13 tracks you can have the pleasure of listening to by buying composer/lyricist Scott Alan's brand new album: Scott Alan Live.  It also contains vocal performances by Stephanie J. Block (Wicked, 9 to 5), Sierra Boggess (The Little Mermaid, The Phantom of the Opera), Jeremy Jordan (Disney's Newsies), Pentatonix (They're a brand new YouTube a cappella singing group), Ramin Karimloo (Les Miserables, The Phantom of the Opera), Liz Callaway (Baby, Miss Saigon), Lea Salonga (Do I even need to tell you what she's famous for?) and many more.

Here's I'm a Star as a sample track for everyone who has a dream:

You may purchase the album by clicking on the links below:

iTunes
Amazon
Dress Circle
Sound of Music Shop
CD Baby
Barnes and Noble

The Epic Elaine Paige Being Epic (Bohemian Rhapsody)

Earlier today, I found myself singing Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody after one of my best friends, Cristyl, posted a graphic sequence of line visualisations of the song using internet meme drawings.

Yeah.  That's the one on the right.  Just view it in a new tab for a full view, otherwise, don't even bother trying to read it because it's futile.  Some of the text is way too small.

Anyway, following about ten minutes of singing "Galileo, Galileo..." in a high-pitched countertenor, I decided to Wiki it up to read about the song.  It's fascinating to note that it actually doesn't have a chorus and that, as a whole, the lyrics tells a story.  It's one of the few non-theatrical story-telling songs that have survived time even in its original version.

So, back to Wiki, I clicked on the link that said Cover versions and found out that the epic Elaine Paige actually performed the song.  Where did I jump to next?  You guessed it!  The mother of all video sites: YouTube!  I was literally stomping my feet, clasping the edge of my chair, and doing fist pumps while watching this video.  Yes, all by myself!  Isn't that just crazy?

Elaine is one of a few artists who have such an effect on me.  I couldn't get over how utterly amazing this woman is.  From musical theatre to opera to pop to hard rock, she can do everything!  Despite her short stature, she oozes in epic awesomeness each time she's on stage opening her mouth to sing.

Lea Salonga - Send in the Clowns

Here we see the great Lea Salonga sing-speak a very emotional song from Stephen Sondheim's "A Little Night Music."

What choice does an artist have?  Everyone knows it's very hard to maintain composure when you're crying that hard and the difficulty is magnified for her because she has to sing.

Watch this video.  Listen to the song and allow every single repression you have to flow away with her voice.  Allow your emotions to soar.  When your chest starts to hurt and your eyes start to moisten, don't hold back.  Just let it go.  Let it all go!

Guess What They're For

Aida
My Strongest Suit



Hairspray
You Can't Stop the Beat



The Rocky Horror Show
Sweet Transvestite



I've been stressing so much these past several days, swimming through dozens and dozens of musical theatre songs.  Finally, the deputy producer has decided to use these three.  The latter two are my suggestions.

I love these songs!  Upbeat and danceable!

Old Entry #11: Rainbow Connection - A Rant About This Severe Last Song Syndrome

Time for another one of these.

Hmmm... What have I done so far today?  Apart from studying, studying, Facebooking, Tweeting, and more studying, I don't think I've done anything else.  Oh, yeah, I ate, too.

What else?

Earlier today, I took a break from the jargon of economics and decided to watch a little local TV. I was lucky (?) they were playing a rerun of last night's Harapan debate on the Philippine Divorce Bill.  Goodness gracious!  I had my options but I chose to watch it again, anyway.  I wanted to fill myself with disgust for the opposition.  And, boy, did I succeed!  Stupid assholes!

Anyway, here's my old entry.  Enjoy!

This was originally posted on Oct 17, '08 9:54 PM on Multiply.com.

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I don't know why.  For the past several years since time immemorial (of course, take note of the fact that I'm only 18), I've had a severe case of last song syndrome.  Yes, with this song.  Hey, it's not my favorite song or anything.  It just so happens to be stuck in my head.  All these years!

Picture my late grandfather.  Back when I was 5, whenever we'd visit our ancestral home, I'd be prancing through the living room going about my business--singing the song.  It's amazing how he managed to develop such tolerance for a boy singing about rainbows taking into account that he considers stuffed Bugs Bunny toys to be sissy.  And mind you, my voice was anything but masculine back then.



Imagine this common scenario.  I'd sit in front of my PC singing the song so jovially and then poof!  The internet connection bugs down.  I'd be making horrible shockwaves on the wood-tiled floor.  I'd be swearing tri-lingually with terms ranging from the usual "shit" to the more obscene "fuck" to the rather demeaning "putang ina" to the local "bilat sa ijang ina."  And then... Surprise, surprise!  Seconds later, still steaming from the ears, I'd start singing "So we've been told..."  Isn't that rather amazing?  No?  Yes?  Whatever!

I'm not sure, though, but it probably began when I heard Lea Salonga sing it as a child.  My dad had what I used to see as a tall pile of child-singers' music album audio cassette tapes -- Lea's included.  He'd play it every morning with the volume cranked up.  It was my alarm during school days -- from my years at the local Montessori to the end of gradeschool.  On weekends, it was recreational music for me.  The only reason why I stopped hearing it regularly was because my mom moved out of the house during their break-up.  Sad days.

Of course, I've out-heighted that pile by now but it still seems pretty big of a collection.  Most of them have already accummulated moulds over the years and, naturally, the wheels don't turn anymore.  However, this marvel excludes a few.  On top of the list is Lea Salonga's "Small Voice" -- an album that I never got tired of listening to.  I even brought it with me when I left the house.

Maybe she's the culprit.  It sure wasn't Kermit the Frogof The Muppets.  I was never really fond of those silly puppets whose feet nobody ever sees on TV.  No offense meant to those who adore the green icon.  Other than his, Lea's version and the Carpenters' were the only ones available for my ears at the time and I'm sure it wasn't Karen's voice that made it stick to my head.  Back then, I didn't have much appreciation for such deep contralto vocals.  Her albums weren't off my reach but I left them just where they were.  I always used to think they were just for the grown-ups.  ABBA's songs were more appealing to me.

When Jason Mraz's version came out, it got five thumbs down from me.  Not that it's ugly.  He has a great counter-tenor singing voice.  It's just that I'm adamant against versions other than Lea's -- only for this song, though.

And, again, the most peculiar thing is that it isn't even my favorite song.  Get a load of that!  I don't listen to it anymore.  I'd rather be hearing Idina Menzel singing Defying Gravity.  And sure, I do have other songs to LSS with but no matter how long I haven't heard the song, it always keeps coming back.

Weird, no?  No?  Yes?  Whatever!

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A Young Lady's Tribute to the Beauty and Magic of Music

FOREWORD :  This was published in the May 22, 2011 issue of the Bohol Chronicle in the Lifestyle Section as a feature article without a byline so people would, for all their lives, wonder who wrote it... except for those who read my blog, that is.  I'm saying this because, yes, I wrote it.

What's awesome was the fact that we didn't need to pay a single cent to have it published.  I'm certain they haven't seen anything like that in long time and, as fellow lovers of art, the section managers were very happy to take it in--consuming an entire page.

Anyway, here it is.

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What would an average 16-year-old girl want to do during the hot summer days of March through May?  Get a tan at the beach?  Hang out with friends?  Spend on popcorn and movies?  Go on excursions with the family?  Maybe burn hundreds of pesos at the arcade to get prize tickets?  Or go for karaoke at Time-Out, party all night at Lazer, Club Atmospheres, or Martin’s?  For some, the list would stretch to include other mundane things, but for one girl, there was nothing mundane about this summer.

Alec Cristi Migriño Mende spent her summer practicing over five hours every single day—training her fingers to reach for the right keys, memorizing and internalizing classical music pieces, sacrificing a huge chunk of daylight hours which she could have spent basking at the beach with her Canadian cousins.  An imposed predicament or self-laid challenge?  When asked, she needn’t open her mouth to give you an answer you could understand.

Yes, there were questions and doubts about whether it was someone else’s or her own love for music that caused her to push herself to take on such an endeavor.  However, these doubts all vanished last Tuesday, May 17th, 2011, at the Grand Ballroom of the Metro Centre Hotel, when Alec Cristi played solo in front of an audience of well over a hundred people in a premiere recital dubbed A Young Lady’s Tribute to the Beauty and Magic of Music.  Her swift fingers alternated on two pianos, completing ten classical music pieces that ranged from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and C.P.E. Bach of the Classical era to Ludwig Van Beethoven, Frédéric Chopin, Claude Debussy, and Camille Saint-Saëns of the Romantic era, to Richard Addinsell of the 20th century modern era.  She even took on two pieces written by two famous Filipino classical composers—Francisco Santiago and Francisco Buencamino.

When was the last time Bohol saw one of her own children holding a classical music solo concert in her soil?  The most recent that comes to memory was also a premiere piano recital held in the mid 1990’s which starred Rose Dale Abapo, daughter of Atty. Tomas Abapo Jr and Atty. Roselima Cuyno Abapo, who were also present in the audience last Tuesday.

The hall was packed with some of Bohol’s intelligentsia—family and dear friends of Alec Cristi.  It even had its share of international audience members.  Other than Filipinos, there were Canadians, Britons, and Americans.  These were people from various walks of life—from students to independent artists to lawyers to judges to businesspeople to economists to agriculturists to priests to doctors to marine biologists to engineers to politicians and all sorts of public servants.  We were even favored by the presence of Bohol’s busiest man—an uncle of Alec Cristi who happens to be our very own provincial governor, Atty. Edgardo Migriño Chatto, who gave a short speech to honor Alec and the beauty of music.  It was a real treat for many, to count this as one of a few privileged occasions, hearing him speak not as a politician, but as a gentle and caring uncle talking to his niece—a real family man.

In the course of it all, nobody minded if Alec Cristi had committed any mistakes.  Nobody but she, her teacher, and few other virtuosos present could tell, anyway.  There wasn’t a hint of stress on her part when she sat down on that bench, removed her high-heeled sandals and started striking the keys.  It was like her body danced to the rhythm of the music.  With eyes closed, her fingers knew where to go and she hit each key with such precision.  You could see raw emotion and passion in her movement as the instrument relentlessly filled the room with the messages of the great men who composed such pieces from centuries and centuries ago.  Each piece was akin to a ride on a time machine and a visit to the inner dimensions of the self rolled into one—perfect for those in the audience who sought inner peace.  And why would we be surprised?  She has had a great tutor.

Alec Cristi learned such method of playing while under the tutelage of one of the living greats—Bohol’s very own Maxelende Ganade—whose words are sung each day by Boholanos the world over.  This woman is the very person who translated the Bohol Hymn to our very own vernacular language—Binol-anong Bisaya—turning it into what we now call Awit sa Bohol.  And for all her contributions to the field of music in and out of the province, she was honored in the same event with a small tribute.  None of it would have been possible if not for her guidance.

It was truly a night for music lovers—a very proud one at that for Atty. Peter Emman Mende and Judge Olivia Migriño Mende, Alec Cristi’s parents, who have been with her every step of the way.  It is no secret that both of whom have great influence on her and have inspired her to love music just as they do—possibly even more.  While Judge Olivia, or Bing as she is fondly called, possesses a golden singing voice that when listened to is a reward in itself, it is Atty. Peter, the father, who is the primary root for her love of the piano.  When asked, she answered, “Growing up hearing him play the piano every morning inspired me to take it upon myself, too.  It was when I mustered the courage to go near him to hear the instrument better when I got my first set of basic piano lessons.”

In an evening of music with histories that elude most people alive today, no one was left ignorant as this unique premiere recital saw two hosts of ceremonies—a master and a mistress, if you will.  Before each piece played, Joyce Fe Migriño Caseñas, Alec Cristi’s aunt, and Ludwig Bon Migriño Quirog, her first cousin, read a précis to tell the audience members what they were about to listen to—ensuring that everyone was well informed.

There were four other artists who came to play that evening.  While Alec Cristi was on intermission to rest her fingers, the evening also saw Jes Mari Josef Migriño Mende and Aivilou Noelle Migriño Mende, her younger sisters, play Johann Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, from the German Baroque era, in a beautiful violin duet.  Dave Matthew Marmita Dumaluan and Kurt Benedict Nazareno also had their share of stage light during the second intermission in a guitar duet—the only non-classical pieces of the evening.

With all the beautiful music that Alec Cristi’s fingers produced, it came as no astonishing matter that she received two standing ovations.  What was surprising was the fact that pieces that caused everyone to rise from their seats to applaud her were the ones composed by the Filipino greats.  On the first occasion, it was for her solo rendition of Souvenir de Filipinas—a world renowned very hard-to-play piece which Alec Cristi had perfected at age eleven during her fifth grade recital at the Holy Spirit School.  Her reprise of the piece caused everyone to get on their feet for well over a minute, complete with whistles and howling from an audience that was obviously bowled over in awe.  The second occasion when everyone stood up was the finale that saw her in a duet with Bohol’s living musical legend, Maxelende Ganade, in a rendition of Inday.  This answered questions as to why there were two pianos on stage.  It was obvious perfection.  Such harmony and coordination earned a well-deserved standing applause—a perfect piano tandem to culminate such a glorious evening.

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