good at being bad
Watching Ed Wood was a little bit painful. Not painful in a way that watching a truly horrendous movie like a Joel Lamangan movie is painful but painful nonetheless. Tim Burton’s Ed Wood was definitely far from being terrible. In fact, I found it hilarious and well made. It is just that I have this nagging feeling that I am an Ed Wood in the making. I’m afraid that perhaps my illusions of grandeur are just that—merely illusions. One of the instances that might support this suspicion is the time when I presented an outline of a story I wrote in a writing workshop. It was a war time drama about a small time crook being caught in a much bigger battle and when it was read in class it bombed big time. Imagine my embarrassment when my classmates started laughing at what was being read. Since I am quite a veteran at being laughed at—I’m painfully shy to the point of appearing moronic— I laughed with them. “This is not a comedy, is it?” asked our esteemed teacher.
My nagging suspicion, however, has not prevented me from dreaming of an Urian or, better yet, a Palm D’Or. After all, some of the Ed Woods of the world regularly
get a job in GMA and ABS (and are more than adequately compensated, if I may say so) so why stop dreaming. Frankly though, I would much prefer to be a Joey Gosengfiao than be an Ed Wood. Ed Wood may wear cashmere in the streets of LA but only Joey can actually put a giant ice cream in middle of the desert.