“Basta sulat lang nang sulat, kung saan madulas,” referring to one’s creative direction, “dun mo dalhin.” That was Meek Roxas speaking during one of our scriptwriting seminars. Direk Meek never tired in giving pointers and encouragement but he didn’t blink an eye in telling us that the opportunities in the movie industry were getting scarcer and scarcer.
I’ve known Direk Meek for only a year or so. To me, he was a man of conviction, a disciplinarian and one who advocated righteousness. Due to his simple ways of living, it was surprising to hear (from others) that he had built a chapel in their subdivision.
When the scriptwriting workshop ended, we used to talk on the phone once in a while. The topic was all about SGP (Screenwriters Guild of the Philippines) of which he was chairman. His thoughts were full of ideals and meaningful projects that couldn’t see light due to some internal problems in the guild. And then we both drifted apart, minding each other’s own private life, until last October when he texted me. “Kumusta ka na?” I texted back, “Ok naman. Pasyal kayo sa FAP, lunch tayo.” His curt reply was, “Try ko.”
It was January 9 when I saw the parthenon-like chapel atop a hill. The numerous spotlights and huge speakers gave the chapel a semblance of a location shooting. But there were no actors, no cinematographers, no crew. Only the director was there… lying peacefully. And his final script was entitled Aortic Laceration.
“The bereaved daughter and wife”
Like a real showbiz person, Direk Meek had his own little secret. He had kept it from us, unintentionally perhaps, for a long time. And with no offense meant, I am sharing that secret to the whole world. Meek he was and Meek we knew him.