By ISA LORENZO
www.pcij.org
As for "Wowowee" itself, the show doesn’t
seem to have changed much almost two years after the Ultra
stampede. During a recent show that was jam-packed with games,
the prizes ranged from P30,000 from one sponsor to a jackpot
of P1 million for "Pera o Bayong" (since last September, the
segment has not been offering P2 million because people were
apparently no longer thrilled once they spotted a "1").
School beauty queens had been the
pre-selected contestants for that show and they competed with
one another in naming the title and composer of songs. Each
correct answer was worth P5,000. They then faced off with
three other people chosen from the audience. (Sample question:
1 - 0 equals?) By the end of the segment, one beauty queen had
won P65,000. She then moved on to the "Pasalog" portion, where
two skimpily clad girls shook balls with compartments that
contain dice. If the side of a die with the label of a sponsor
faces up when the compartment is opened, the contestant will
win cash prizes.
The jackpot that day was P440,000. But luck
was against Ms. Beauty Queen and she went home with only
P65,000.
The show’s highlight, however, was
obviously "Pera O Bayong," which had the names of its 50
contestants announced the day before. The contestants took
turns lining up behind the signs "Oo (Yes)" and "Hindi (No)"
in response to questions like "Red sauce ba ang carbonara (Is
carbonara a red sauce)?" until only one was left. This
contestant then made an excruciating choice: "Pera o bayong
(money or straw bag)?" Three bayongs contained prizes like P1
million, a car, and a house and lot. The rest contained cheap
items like a pencil.
At rival "Eat Bulaga," a carnival of parlor
games was also going on. To pick who got to spin the roulette
in "Taktak Mo o Tatakbo," contestants were made to line up
behind two letters and then pick cards with questions
regarding a person, song, or thing. The answers all start with
the letter they had lined up behind. Somehow, the contestants
dwindled to just one, and the spinning of the roulette – and
feverish dancing to the "Taktak" song – began. The smallest
amount on the wheel is P10,000, and there are also special
jackpot prizes. Sometimes, the "manager," will allow the
player another spin at a special wheel in exchange for money.
A lucky contestant could go home with thousands of pesos.
Another regular "Eat Bulaga" game is "On
the Spot Jackpot," in which contestants are pre-selected from
a certain group of people – say, feng shui masters or
television dubbers. They each stand on a numbered spot on a
raised grid, and if the cartoon girl Twinky draws their
number, they take their place in front of celebrities holding
drums. Each drum has a slip of paper and cash worth P5,000 to
P25,000. The lucky winner of the P25,000 then goes on to
choose from among three vaults, which contain fake gold bars
with slips of paper inside ranging from P50,000 to P200,000.
The contestant is offered increasing amounts of cash as the
paper is slowly slid out of the bar he or she chose.
A 38-year-old call center agent who once
participated in one of "Eat Bulaga’s" games won some P250,000
(reduced to P200,000 after taxes) by answering a short list of
trivia questions. She describes the experience as "fun." But,
she says, "mas masaya ‘nung nakuha ko na ‘yung tseke (it was
even more fun when I got the check)."
EVEN OUT-AND-OUT game shows that cater to a
more upscale audience do not offer much beyond the lure of
winning cash. In the now defunct "Break The Bank" in the
youth-oriented Studio 23, for instance, contestants were first
asked a question that had a giveaway answer before they could
pick a briefcase that could contain their prize. They were
made to choose between the contents of the briefcase or the
cash amount offered by the banker. The catch was while the
banker’s offer was a sure thing, the briefcase could contain
anywhere from P1 to P100,000.
Some TV producers are aware that game shows
can foster unrealistic hopes. "Game shows are like prayers,
they keep you hoping and hoping, they deflect us from looking
into the real issue of unemployment," says one producer who
declines to be named.
Tape Inc.’s Ferre also says that TV
producers have a moral responsibility to discourage
contestants from believing that winning on a game show is the
answer to poverty. She says that this is why "Eat Bulaga’s
hosts always ask contestants what their occupation is. "What
we want to convey is, you have work, and you work hard," she
says. "We hope (the money you win) helps. If you drive a
jeepney, we hope that you don’t stop working but rather, that
you’re able to own your own jeep."
Ferre says that "Eat Bulaga’s" primary
purpose is not to give away money, but to entertain its
viewers. "Eighty-seven-point-nine plus Filipinos are
entertained, only one wins," she says. "The winner only
becomes a medium for ordinary people to empathize."Marilou
Almaden, ABS-CBN’s business unit head in charge of game shows,
says that for some viewers, watching such programs is more
about the thrill of trying to trump the contestant, rather the
prizes.
Psychologist Bautista, for her part, says
that for the poor, these shows can also serve as coping
mechanisms. She notes, "For a moment you forget about the
difficulties of life, for a moment you have hope. And then of
course the entertainment that goes with it is another way by
which you forget. So you’re able to move on to the next day,
because you’ve had a gulp of fun and excitement."
Almaden says that despite all the
criticisms hurled their way, she is proud to be producing game
shows. "A lot of people say that we’re giving false hopes to
people," she says. "But I want to see it the other way, that
there are people whom we actually help, in the small way that
we can."
She says that she cries whenever she sees the joy etched on
winners’ faces. "In my group’s little way," says Almaden,
"wow, we can actually make dreams come true."