Plaka Notes #2: Somber / And Solemn by Belle Mariano

Our expectations of albums from non-singer actors haven't always been high, but that is not why Belle Mariano's two EPs stand out.

In the Philippines, actors releasing albums happens so often that you take it for granted. If you’re of a particular age or of a particular popularity, then chances are you’ve either released at least a single, or are working on one.

It isn’t a fairly new thing, either. The earliest stars of Filipino films—think back to when we were an American colony in the first half of the 20th century—had to be good at everything: acting, singing, dancing. Perhaps it’s the influence of the bodabil stage shows that many of these performers were trained in at the time. Popular on-screen (and off-screen) love teams in the 1970s, such as Guy and Pip (Nora Aunor and Tirso Cruz III) and Vilma and Bobot (Vilma Santos and Edgar Mortiz), also released songs at the height of their fame, buoyed no doubt by the fact that they first became popular as singers—Nora and Bobot both took part in the television tilt Tawag ng Tanghalan, with the former winning it in 1967.

The songs were, to put it bluntly, made for a mass audience. Pleasant, of its time, but not really groundbreaking. Modern audiences may remember Nora and Vilma both releasing their covers of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” with differences in how they pronounce the name of the guy with the beard—the former, more provincial; the latter, more upscale. And then you have “Maria Leonora Theresa”, a song about a real-life doll that symbolized Guy and Pip’s budding romance.

Admittedly, some of us tend to look down on these songs. With a few exceptions—usually actors who we know could sing well anyway—they were seen as throwaway pop songs. I remember a Christmas gift exchange in high school when I said I wanted a copy of the band Cambio’s debut album, but I instead got an album of love songs and ballads from actor Piolo Pascual. I was disappointed, which is unfair in hindsight, because the songs aren’t bad. The Filipino likes its singers powerful, but he doesn’t go too far.

The system that made Philippine showbiz a domestic juggernaut is still around today, despite the many changes to the platforms it presents its output on. You still have swathes of young performers looking to get that big break, and proving they can do anything by recording a song and hoping for a hit. A key difference now is that the songs are better. Either that, or the producers finally realize that they don’t have to go through the same sonic palette. Take Maymay Entrata, who managed to channel her brash, fun personality into songs that pretty much go boom.

And that brings us to the actual subject of this month’s Plaka Note, Belle Mariano.

I’ve written about her before. I stumbled upon “Tanging Dahilan”, from her first album Daylight, in time for Playlist #7; that—and the album as a whole—was a pleasant thing to listen to, perfect for lazy Sunday mornings. That was released in 2021, by which time she had already established herself as a bankable teen actress with the success of the streaming series He’s Into Her, where she starred alongside on-screen partner Donny Pangilinan. (Yes, he also sings.) Now, she is most definitely one of the biggest names in Philippine showbiz: her and Donny’s latest series, Can’t Buy Me Love, is doing well in the ratings, and her face is in pretty much every billboard in Manila. Well, you can’t miss her face. Youthful beauty, but with a classical vibe, if I have my adjectives right.

Last June she released Somber, an EP that formed one-half of her latest assault on the streaming charts. Last month, the second half, And Solemn, came out. The strategy isn’t new: show two sides to the actress, one more comfortable, the other a bit more adventurous.

Somber benefits from its producers being in touch with what today’s youth listen to—or at least, what they listen to when they feel like being chill. Similar to Daylight, it embraces the indie-leaning folk-pop aesthetic to good effect, not forcing Belle to go too far and resulting in songs that exudes a degree of familiarity and intimacy. (And maybe it’s my bias, but I can’t help but hear late-era Reese Lansangan in the tracks.)

But then, Somber is thematically and sonically more accessible. Glistening songs about love, longing and heartbreak—that’s as typical a path an actor recording an album can make! (The exception is “Running Out of Time”, a youth-at-the-crossroads song that hits somewhat like TLC’s “Unpretty”.) That said, I appreciate the songs here not because of low expectations, but because it just manages to transcend the remit enough to not sound like a throwaway release. The best example is, inevitably, “Bugambilya”, which dials up the dreamy with its poetic use of Filipino, and then brings it up further with an English interlude.

On the other hand, And Solemn—in defiance of its name—is the adventurous record. It’s much more sonically varied, with jazz and rock influences way too keen to say “Belle can do this, too!” I suppose it’s gutsy, at least. Take “Walang Pake”: set up to evoke a jazz lounge, it should fit, but it feels like Belle pushed herself a bit too far here; the stumbling delivery can’t be deliberate.

It does settle down afterwards, with more upbeat tracks channeling Little Voice-era Sara Bareilles. But it says something that the most grounded track on the EP is its sole collaboration. ”Autumn”, recorded alongside folk-pop standard-bearers Ben&Ben, works because the band is reliable and their sound clicks with her earlier stuff—it’s a no-brainer, really—but it ends up reminding you that the rest, while sonically interesting, feels like a collection of outtakes rather than an integral part of the release calendar.

But then, both Somber and And Solemn are released by a performer who’s primarily an actress. What I’m going to say next is by no means a knock at Belle’s talents—again, I like her songs—but the general idea of actors releasing albums smacks of actors playing a role as convincingly as possible. This reminds me, again, of James Reid, whose Palm Dreams record was received so warmly by the cool kid crowd—one review hailed it, with no hint of irony, as the future of Philippine pop—even if all it really amounted to was James putting his spin on a style of music that’s long making waves in the west.

As much as I enjoyed both EPs, I can’t help but think my appreciation isn’t going as far as I should, because I’m not certain of how much input Belle herself has had in the songs. Blame my preferences. Blame my orientation towards the singer-songwriters I mentioned earlier. You automatically know where their songs are coming from.

But it’s also easy to forget how much of pop music is a group effort. In many cases, you have an interpreter, the public face of the entire enterprise, backed by an army of songwriters, producers and engineers. (Rox Santos, who has been responsible for some of the more interesting recent releases from ABS-CBN’s music arm, produced both EPs.) Sometimes that means anodyne music—sorry, but while I love Moira dela Torre’s singing, her Malaya album is a chore because it’s the same song over and over again—but sometimes it brings out something memorable, or at least, something good enough for you not to switch over if it comes on shuffle, or on the radio. And, as we’ve seen from Miley Cyrus, there’s still a long way to go—it’s not too late for Belle to surprise us all by releasing something that we really know is hers. Something that’s just slightly outside the system.

That said, I can’t help but wonder how both Somber and And Solemn would sound like as one album, combined and probably reshuffled, providing both light and shade to the listener. I think that would be a really good album. Perhaps a best-seller, especially if it’s released physically. I actually asked Star Pop if there are plans along those lines. Unfortunately, I did not get a reply.