The Philippine Online Chronicles

The first part of Ang Kagila-gilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Zsazsa Zaturnnah was originally released in December 2002 and it was a product of its time. There was something about the comic that had resonance and daring: who would have thought that a comic with a gay protagonist, set in the province, and that used Filipino prominently, would be one of the most enduring titles in our patriarchal, Catholic country?

While I admire local comics like Cast, Elmer, and even Trese, the sad fact is that to the majority of Filipinos, the protagonists in those titles aren’t as popular as Panday or Captain Barbell. Zsazsa Zaturnnah’s fame comes close, if it’s not already there (it helps to have a movie and musical adaptation).

What’s impressive with Carlo Vergara as a comics creator is that despite whatever success he’s attained, he’s always hungry for growth. If one can dig up a copy of Flashpoint (the Straight Lines International series from the 90’s) and compare it to his work in Siglo: Passion, the evolution, whether it’s the art or the storytelling, is evident. Zsazsa Zaturnnah sa Kalakhang Maynila could easily have been a title that pandered to Vergara’s existing fanbase. Instead, it takes the franchise into an entirely new direction, one suited for 2012.

Time, for me, is important. My reading tastes have changed. In Zsazsa Zaturnnah sa Kalakhang Maynila, Vergara has changed as well, and that’s a good thing. There is a chance that Vergara is alienating some of his readers due to his deviation. But what appealed to me about the original series was how it was reflective of our times.

That’s not to say the previous decade’s problems have disappeared — what will always be part of Zsazsa’s subversion is our perception of homosexuals — but if there is to be progress in terms of narrative, Zsazsa needs to be more than simply just a parody of Darna and other pop cultural icons. And surprisingly, Zsazsa Zaturnnah sa Kalakhang Maynila does just that.

It’s evident in the beginning that this isn’t just Ada’s story anymore, but Dodong’s as well. While they were never just stereotypes, here, they’re complex individuals with much more depth: Ada’s abused past is explored, while Dodong’s sexuality and sincerity are called into question. The opening scenes immediately convey this sense of seriousness and foreboding, and are less focused on humor and comedic timing.

That’s not to say there’s nothing problematic with Vergara’s premise. The stakes are higher in this book, but why does it take place in Manila? There’s also something cliché about Ada’s history that some might criticize. But it is Vergara’s discourse that wins one over. Where else to experience the heart of prejudice but Metro Manila? And just because we’ve heard Ada’s story before does not mean it’s any less true or meaningful: the question is what the writer does with it.

Another sacred cow presently discarded is Zsazsa’s costume. Our hero(ine) makes two appearances in the book, the first in a chicken costume (one can just imagine the hijinks that ensue afterwards), the second in a regal, Victorian outfit. It’s certainly less iconic, but in terms of story, this change feels organic and natural. It’s a stark contrast to the new characters Vergara introduces, including a Superman archetype whose costume resembles the Philippine flag… complete with a star above the crotch area.

Elements that made Ang Kagila-gilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Zsazsa Zaturnnah work weren’t discarded though. The book has its funny moments, whether they’re details like “Sorry, the number you have dialled has some kind of mental disorder,” or more explicit scenes like swatting a giant cockroach with an equally giant slipper. However, at the forefront of this comic is the drama between our two main characters, along with a few sub-plots (a mysterious villain, a superhero team) and themes that are explored in more detail (consumerism, commitment, and the social class divide).

The art is where Vergara shines. Many comic creators make amateur mistakes: horrible panel sequences, word balloons and text boxes that cover up the art, designs so experimental that they end up confusing the reader. Vergara proves he’s a veteran by producing a clean comic: the panels are clear and concise, there’s enough space for the text and the art — not an easy feat when one considers how polysyllabic the Filipino language can get — and the visuals have the right balance of expressiveness and simplicity. One merely needs to turn to the fourth page which has a complex, panel-less scene where lesser artists would easily have faltered. For readers though, the chronology of events is clear, and shows that just because no panels are used the comic doesn’t have its own symmetry. My only complaint when it comes to the art is the “super-deformed” style Vergara employs, whose effectiveness I’m still sorting out. It pops up frequently and while some feel natural, at other times it can get jarring and is a poor fit for the general style of the graphic novel. There is also the question of the comic’s cover, for while it is nostalgic and evokes a certain style, it’s also drastically different from what’s inside.

There’s an argument to be made whether the long wait was worth it but let me reiterate: Zsazsa Zaturnnah sa Kalakhang Maynila promises to be a fantastic comic and pushes the creative envelope. Carlo Vergara is at the top of his form, and one merely needs to read this graphic novel to see the proof.