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| The Patron God of Lightbulbs. Don't Ask Me Why. |
As we put all of the shenanigans behind us and
move forward to the unknown future, I unexpectedly realize that I am gradually
becoming a part of the entire affair of the death of Dolphy. As a longtime spectator from the window
existence, little by little I sense that I am feeling the after-effects of his
passing.
His movies and TV shows had become a part of our
being one way or another; and for my slice of the pie, it was during the late
1980’s when RPN9 was Dolphy’s kingdom.
It started out with ‘John ‘n’ Marsha’, so I think, and then there was
‘Plaza 1899’ (where he played the captain of a barangay full of other great
comedians like Panchito, Babalu, Don Pepot, and others), and then there was
‘Gabi ni Dolphy’ which was an evening variety show. After he had gone to other things, RPN
showcased Dolphy’s body of work during weekday mornings through RVQ presents,
where his movies such as ‘My Heart Belongs To Daddy’, ‘Titser’s Pet’, ‘My Bugoy Goes to Congress’, and ‘The Quick Brown Fox’ became brunch staples.
And in thinking beyond Dolphy’s passing, Fernando
Poe Jr. suddenly came to mind, and I became concious of the fact that we will
never again see a new FPJ film. Going
further than that, I realize that Lino Broca is dead too; and so is Rudy
Fernandez, Panchito, Dindo Fernando, and all the other people who once made up
what was once great in Pinoy entertainment.
As he rightfully takes his place on Mount Olympus, we now have a complete pantheon of gods looking after us, a book of heroes and legends that all should try to measure up to.
The sad fact is not because Dolphy is dead but
rather he was the last one; and all of them are gone. These folks did not just live and die in
their own time, these are people whom everybody looked up to; from the aspiring
dramatic actor and director to the simplest tricycle driver and blue collar
family man. All of them had something to
say once, and we all listened. We agreed
and disagreed with them, imagining ourselves talking in their voices and
disagreeing with them, laughing at their mistakes and see them laugh at us for
ours, and despising them for their evil.
Like the ceasars and pharaohs of old, now that
Dolphy is dead, he is deified. As he
rightfully takes his place in Mount Olympus, we now have a complete pantheon of gods
looking after us, a book of heroes and legends that all should try to measure
up to. Future comedians, actors and
directors now have patron saints; for every time they try to take their careers
to the next step or even by just finishing a scene, they can now ask
themselves: “Did I measure up? Am I doing right now as he did?”
Oh. I forgot! Nora and Vilma are still around, so
I guess not all are lost.
