Willie Nep’s Comic Relief in the time of catastrophe

MANILA, Philippines - The cataclysmic aftermath of Supertyphoon Yolanda notwithstanding, the Filipinos have genuine blessings to be thankful for. Willie Nepomuceno, for one, staged another revue at the Music Museum for the UP alumni’s fundraiser for Eastern Visayas, titled Comic Relief: It’s more fund in the Philippines, just in time to set the mood of hopefulness for yuletide after the November scenes of death and destruction. Here, we heard his magnificent songs, saw his myriad faces and marveled at his moves and impressions. Despite the artist’s harried schedule, he showcased the iconic figures of our time as a respite from the apocalyptic force majeure (earthquakes, storm surges, internecine wars) aggravated by human errors (corruption, crimes and accidents) that have blighted our country in relentless succession.

The show began with Willie Nep’s best Erap voice-over enjoining everyone to rise for the national anthem, followed by the entrance of P-Noy, who rued the plummeting of his approval ratings in social media because of the ineptitude of his team in handling the Yolanda debacle. He catalogued his administration’s woes, but bravely ended with a bold promise to send the biggest battleship to the contested Spratleys, with an all-systems-go presidential order on a caveat — “basta matapos ang ipinagawang pyesang ipinatorno sa Dimasalang” — after which his exeunt, with the famous presidential limp.

He segued to a favorite tune, For Once In My Life written by Ron Miller and Orlando Murden for Motown Records as a slow ballad in 1966, but which Willie performed in swing uptempo beat with jazz choreography, marking the leap of faith with the line:

For once, unafraid, I can go where life leads me and somehow I know I’ll be strong.

He then ruminated on the mind-boggling devastation and the staggering relief operation that followed Yolanda. We laughed at his jab on the bureaucracy which switched the Spam and corned beef aid from around the globe with sardines, and laughed some more at his double entendre that only the UP Oblation in Tacloban has remained standing (“nakatayo pa din”) after the storm. In the same sequence, he congratulated his former partner in the now only a memory Music and Memory radio program, Boots Anson-Roa, who is getting married to lawyer King Rodrigdo on June 14. He bantered with the mostly senior citizens in the audience whom he commended for having reached their most forgiving phase, like the bride and groom to be, as they are quick to forget offenses.

His show-stopper bricolage was anchored by I Got Rhythm, the 1930 George and Ira Gerswhin jazz standard, from the Broadway musical Girl Crazy. With just a rolling cart of wigs and prosthetics by his side, he did Marcos, Sesame Street’s Ernie and Bert, Popeye and Olive Oil, Lone Ranger and his horse, Charlie Chaplin, Mario Puzzo’s Vito Corleone, even doing a ventriloquist stunt with Kermit the Frog. He reminisced doing voices and faces from childhood, learning how to cull the distinct features of a persona from his training in cartooning as a UP Diliman’s College of Fine Arts student. Before the Las Vegas extravaganza, he dished out his classic Dolphy spiel, sprinkled with the tickling chuckle of the King of Comedy.

One deep regret of this writer is not having seen Sammy Davis perform when he was still alive. So when Willie sang What Kind of Food Am I, complete with the lopsided face and cocky gait of the black prodigy from the Hollywood rat pack, who faced life’s ups and downs with valor and humor until the Big C overtook him, it felt like an early Christmas. Next came Frank Sinatra, and the video duet with Celine Dion of When Somebody Loves You, followed by Tony Bennett’s I Left My Heart in San Francisco, ending with Stevie Wonder’s You Are The Sunshine of My Life — and my New Year was fast-forwarded, too.

“Kris Aquino’s Senior Moments with Sen. Juan Ponce Enrile” has struck gold, with Willie Nep’s daughter Frida having perfected her impression of the unsinkable queen of Philippine talk, especially her signature hysterical laughter. Willie’s script hit the mark with the scourge of betrayal the haunting leitmotif of the Ilocano politician’s career.

Erap with Kabayan Noli de Castro doing the city hall beat was markedly improved from the previous show, with the latter’s Kalokalike, Rod Manansala, more at home in the limelight. While the latter would still fumble his lines, the former would ad lib and deliver his lines with the Manila mayor’s quintessential swagger. His coup de grace: To thank the American writer Dan Brown for his novel Inferno, because now, his city can claim the slogan: “In Manila, you can go to hell.”

Willie Nep was intransigent with Freddie Aguilar’s song Anak to pique the folk singer’s dangerous liaison with a 16-year-old while the Everly Brothers’ Devoted to You taunted two octogenarian lawyers who fumbled in recent history, Enrile and Serafin Cuevas, in their Elderly Brothers’ trick video duet by Karl Ramirez, titled We Voted For You.

The last segment was the Mar Roxas game show Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? with the much vilified Janet Napoles, also essayed very well  by Willie Nep’s daughter, down to the clueless look and impervious answers of “I invoke.” Though the next presidential hopeful did not have very distinct mannerisms to peg his impression on, Willie was still able to caricature him, volatile temper and all. 

Willie Nep’s curtain closer always comes with a video pastiche from an optimistic lebenswelt or world as lived, captured by the lens of his veterinary doctor son, Wilsson. He reminds the audience about fortitude, saying: “Despite his hellish fate, the Filipino did not lose his faith, consoled that the entire world seems willing to help.” He exhorts us “to steel our resolve and to rise as one nation.” Aptly, he chose the show tune from the 1945 Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, Walk On, which has since become a sporting anthem, inspiring the rock group Queen, to compose another athletic chanson de geste or song of deeds, We Are The Champions.

The ancient Greeks staged the tragic drama to purge through pity and fear what ailed their psyche and city state. This is the catharsis  my husband and I always find at the end of Willie Nep’s shows, this one in particular ending with the lines that most capture our resolve to conquer all our anxieties through comic relief after a catastrophe:

At the end of the storm is a golden sky, and the sweet silver song of a lark. 

Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain

Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart

And you’ll never walk alone, you’ll never walk alone.