December 8, 2024 | 12:00am
Once upon a time in faraway Guiguinto, there was an autobiographical art exhibit told in cartoon panels, curiously titled “The Sky is the Langit” and curated by Erwin Romulo, and a launch of The Book of Birdman under Istorya imprint, both by the peripatetic artist animator Roxlee, also known among his close-in as Roquito, surely a pioneer of Philippine independent animation among the first who put moving drawings and illustrations in the local filmgoers’ awareness.
No joke, no joke, he has also been given a lifetime achievement award by the FAMAS some years back for his gung-ho guerrilla style of filmmaking, which, come to think of it, is ironic considering he was being honored by one of the movie establishments. But he’ll take whatever comes his way, and thank you with a primal.
Recently he messaged an invite for the Guiguinto affair sometime November then postponed to early December due to an infamous series of typhoons, saying the Bulacan town is just a point-to-point bus ride away, after which you can ask the help of a tricycle driver to take you to the Istorya studios on a certain street in a certain barangay, you can take his word for it that you won’t get lost unless primal fate directs you otherwise.
He had already sent an advance copy of Book of Birdman by courier to the apartment, how the book itself could be epitome of the independent graphic novel, long after his first foray into the publishing world, Cesar Asar in the Planet of the Noses.
Birdman though is a long-running concept that spans film, found YouTube footage, drawings and impromptu animation and performance art, as well music as heard in the original ditty about hitting two birds with one stone, and how Rox would want to wring the neck of whoever invented such saying for being anti-nature.
There’s a lot to like in Birdman the book, not least of which its contents roll like film in your world-weary imagination, it’s easy, funny, even entertaining reading for the most part, at times you don’t even have to read but just look at the pictures and drawings and their dizzying details, might even flip the pages quickly to simulate an animation sequence as in the chapter on Tamgohoy.
The first chapter Whistletown in already quite a tour de force, a long short story told in a series of cartoon panels about a poor pizza delivery boy in the city who stumbles upon the Shangri-la that is Whistletown where no one talks but everyone whistles, after a mysterious ride on the MRT. Not unusual if you find yourself rolling with laughter after some panels, so deadpan is the cartoonist’s humor there’s no time to think or worry about getting lost.
Other chapters seem like outtakes or storyboards for potential animation shorts, you can see how the illustrator revels in the process. Of course, it’s a lot of work but he’s enjoying it, throws in a worthy detail or side comment or private joke for good measure, though that could be merely the viewer’s imagination.
The Book of Birdman is the latest in the epic, albeit episodic, life and times of Roxlee, that started in a boarding house near the National University in Sampaloc where he took up architecture, to binges in Jingle Chordbook magazine offices in Cubao, to rambles in Mowelfund with other similarly inclined young filmmakers at the time working mostly with Super 8 and 16mm, excursions and fellowships in Japan, where he made acquaintance with assorted muses intermittently surfacing in his drawings including Whistletown, forays into music such as the now collectible CD The Ghost of Rocker Janis with the undying ballad of Cutie Cutie and her worms like spaghetti, the aforementioned Cesar Asar in the Planet of the Noses, whose original strip in the Manila Bulletin co-authored by the artist’s brother Monlee was said to provide tips to jai-alai or last two bettors, more experimental escapades in music through the documentary on another brother Romeo Must Rock Lee, whose rendition of Wild Thing in UP Sunken Garden gigs always brought the library down and the young crowd pogoing till dawn, well on to his collaborations with his fellow renegade filmmakers Khavn dela Cruz and Lav Diaz in the shimmering no-look band The Brockas.
No wonder he was given a FAMAS. No wonder many consider him to be the godfather of young Filipino independent filmmakers (sort of like a lieutenant to Kidlat Tahimik), and his 12 commandments for them a must-read. But which way to Guiguinto, which way to primal in a world that always enthralls in the child’s eyes of Roquito, son of Extremadura and Mayon volcano, ha!
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