(This review was published in the Philippine Daily Inquirer on April 25, 2010. No other single performer in the country has pulled off anything like this pre-election show, “Presidentiables’ Gut Talent,” since.)
Could it be magic?
What may decide the result of the coming presidential election is sidesplittingly speculated upon in master mimic Willie Nepomuceno’s surprise hit show patterned after a TV talent search.
“Presidentiables’ Gut Talent” suggests diverse factors, foremost of which is sleight of hand, mostly figurative. “Erap” vows to henceforth walk the straight and narrow, swears off women—and cuts one in half to punctuate his pledge. “Noynoy” extinguishes a flaming torch with a bare hand and puts a girl to sleep on the tips of three swords. “Gibo” levitates.
The “talent” component is filled by “Villar,” who merrily raps to the beat and melody of his widely popular campaign jingle— “Nakaligo ka na ba sa bathtub ng pera?” — and “Gordon” as a ventriloquist who embarks on a giddy routine, then a song in two-part harmony, with his loquacious dummy, “Bayani.” perched on his lap.
By virtue of their looks alone, Willie Nep says, these politicos did not interest him at first as characters for a show. They’re really just “regular faces,” he says; none would stand out in a crowd. “Then they started saying nasty things about each other,” and “Presidentiables, the show, took shape.
Organic material
“Erap” was the easiest to create material around, says Willie. “He’s like a second skin to me, the way ‘Marcos’ used to be.” As for the rest, he adds, “Villar presented himself way ahead, when the others were mere probabilities.”
It is “Villar” who takes the Music Museum (Greenhills) stage as Contestant No. 1 in the mock search for the “Pinakatalentadong Pangulo.” He declares, “Ang talent ko ay pagyaman (accumulating wealth).” He proceeds to bemoan the way his opponents take that against him. So what if he has a private jet? “Noynoy’s” family has an international airport! All right, he has billions, but that’s because he was never extravagant, unlike “GMA,” who had to have a Macapagal Avenue built “when all that she needs for her size is an eskinita (alleyway).”
The way he’s being criticized for C-5 is most unfair, “Villar” continues to lament. “Bakit ko raw pina-reroute yung C-5 para daanan ang mga lupa ko? Alangan namang yung lupa ko ang ipa-reroute ko para daanan ng C-5.”
A tantalizing ‘Erap’
“Kris,” (played uproariously by Willie’s daughter Frida), who introduces the contenders in the virtual search, is kind to “Cuz Gibo,” whom she and “Kuya Noynoy” supposedly played hide-and-seek with in Hacienda Luisita. She suspects, though, that “Cuz” never liked her. “One time, he was ‘it.’ I hid among the sugar cane and he didn’t look for me. I was still there at harvest time, three months later.”
“Gibo” winces at the insinuation that he is someone’s dummy. “My opponents are the real dummies,” he insists, “whereas I cannot be dictated upon or ordered around by anyone. That’s what ‘GMA’ told me.”
When Willie walks onstage as “Erap,” it is a tantalizing sight. For a while it seems like the real one has walked past the ushers unnoticed and wandered into the hall. Then he speaks in that familiar drawl… and the result is nothing short of eerie.
“Erap” wonders why people make fun of his English. “My English is unique,” he boasts. “When I talk to foreigners, all they can say is ‘What?’ They’re so stupid!”
That aside, “Erap” asserts, “I am a man of many talent!” His singular skill is acting, he points out in case not everyone he audience knows, and he’s proud that it’s been “tested and tried by the Sandiganbayan.” He puts in a word for “Jojomar”: “When you see him—if you see him— please remember, he’s my running mate, not my shadow.”
Suddenly, he bids the enrapt audience goodbye “Tandaan lang po ang inyong lingkod (Remember I’m at your service), ERAP! E for intelligence; R for articulate; A for empowerment; P for philandering!”
You may have the floor
The spotlight turns to “Gordon,” who complains that he is being reproached for watching over Americans. “What’s wrong with that?” he demands. “Erap watched over women. Binay watched after pigs.”
He gets into several little arguments with his moppet, “Bayani,” about post-election priority projects: 1) What to do with Marikina—a duty-free zone or a naval facility? 2) Keep the new color green for urinals around the metro or revert to pink?
Ultimately, they agree to “speak in one voice” and “Gordon” decides that “Bayani” should have the floor. He drops the doll and walks away.
As soon as he can get a word in, “Noynoy” vows, “When I become President, many problems will disappear from this country— corruption, terrorism, poverty— before my own hair disappears.”
Because he had little time putting together and promoting “Presidentiables,” Willie Nep is startled by the show’s success. “I hoped it would do well, but did not expect it would do this well. It could be this hot weather—or the heat of politics upon us—that has made the bush catch fire so easily.”
So yes, he chuckles, he thinks he has a hit after quite a while—six years to be exact since the last election. “But only in box-office terms,” he points out. “I’ve done previous political shows that were heavier in content. Not that this one is lacking in that; I just think the characters and issues in those earlier shows were more colorful.”
Specifically, he has yet to top “Willie Nep for President,” which he did in 2004. “My ‘FPJ’ was a huge crowd favorite and a rich source of material.”
A week after Ferdinand Marcos fled in 1996l, Willie staged “Balimbing,” for which he invited Tessie Tomas to portray “Imelda” (which she later developed into “Meldita”) and a UP student, Jon Santos, for the role of “General Ver.”
Gawad CCP Award
A subsequent spoof on the People Power Revolution, in which he played all the major characters, earned for Willie Nep a Gawad CCP Award for Best Television Special.
He feels lucky to have found the perfect creative handle for “Presidentiables”— the format of “America’s (also Pilipinas) Got Talent” and “American Idol.” His first choice for a title was “Talentadong Pangulo,” but decided it was “a bit too harsh.”
The audience turnout and reception on April 16 has stunned him. “I pinched myself till I turned black and blue. That’s how I figured I wasn’t dreaming.”
He is sure that none of the people he parodied was in the audience. “That’s understandable; they’re all better off courting the masa than a handful of urbanites. (Music Museum’s capacity is 700.) Political satirist Jun “Mr. Shooli” Urbano and Jon Santos were there, though. (On April 23, for the repeat, Willie’s dzMM co-anchor Boots Anson-Roa— for “Music and Memories, Sunday afternoons— turned up. He thanked her profusely.)
One thing that he senses in the way the audience is responding to the current material, compared to earlier shows: “There was a time when I could feel hurt and anger fueling the laughter. I’m having a hard time reading the way this year’s audience is reacting. I guess the insights and punch lines are just an affirmation for them now, because they seem very aware of all the issues.”
Willie Nep hopes every single member of his audience is able to discern the facts from the funny turns. “Laughter helps,” he says, “but it’s not a cure. I’d like very much for people to read between the giggles.”