It was a bar, it was a cinema, it was a cafe, it was a restaurant, it was a hangout. It was a place for cheap beer and serious talks, good food and great movies, chilling with old friends and meeting new ones.
Mogwai was a lot of things to a lot of people. So it came as no surprise that when news that the Cubao X favorite had closed started to spread slowly last Tuesday, there was an outpouring of grief on Facebook, Tumblr and Twitter.
Robin Smith Benitez posted on Twitter: “Para akong nawalan ng kaibigan nung nagsara ang Mogwai.”
We feel the same way.
This week, Super pays tribute to a place that has become a part of so many lives, a watering hole so rich in memories it could star in its own movie.
Real life MacLaren’s
My friend Matt set up a surprise at the cinema upstairs and pretended that it was just a regular screening of Miranda July’s “Me and You and Everyone We Know.” When the film credits rolled, the light box he set-up near the door lit up. It had the words “Let’s be forever? Say yes” and popped the question. Hana said yes and they are on their way to a happily ever after ending.
That last memory sums up how much Mogwai meant to me and all of my friends. It has been such a huge part of our lives that we choose it to be a witness to a thing as life-changing as a marriage proposal.
College life was bearable because Mogwai was just a jeepney ride away from the university. We’d go there to take a breather from make or break exams, deadlines we couldn’t meet and papers waiting to be written. Then we graduated and had to work. Now, we’d go there to escape massive pile of paper work, annoying co-workers and the boss from hell. It may sound cliché, it felt like home. It really did. I can go on and on about all the memories: drunken conversations, broken bottles due to misunderstandings, weekend love stories, even those times when you find yourself alone at the bar nursing a bottle of beer.
This is the real life MacLaren’s to a lot of people I know. The kind of place that feels like it’s just downstairs and everyone you know is there and you have your favorite table and the waiter knows your order without even telling them.
We may find a new place to spend our weekends but I guess nothing can ever give us the same feeling that we found at Mogwai.—Weng Cahiles
Unsettling
It’s always regrettable to see a good friend go. Mogwai, one of the metro’s best pigeonholes for the arts with its eclectic ambience and dedicated screening joint is dissolving. My memories of Mogwai are a mishmash of fond times made from flooded nights of dancing lights and firewater. To remember a specific instance would defeat the purpose of having a grand time with all its recollections and aspirations. The Mogwai experience was holistic. We went there for stimulus and swigs. You simply go there to kick back and hangout.
Mogwai was where you can immerse yourself in great Filipino culture. A place where one can’t help but participate in the rapture of living the experience of life and it’s a little unsettling to see purveyors of taste and the performing arts lose another home.
It is a passing sorrow that we willingly should feel just to remember the value of these little places. If you have been there, Mogwai surely helped magnify these intrepid dreams. Pray that you can find another place to dream a little dream, in your own little corner of the world.—Jerico Placido, graphic designer, musician, Top Junk, Session Road
Double birthday
My most memorable time in Mogwai happened in November 2008. Izel of Top Junk and I share the same birthday and they had a gig that night in front of Mogwai. My friends and I hung out there the entire night, chatting and being goofy.
It was my first time in Mogwai. And since then it became a meeting place for me and my friends and a default hangout for me whenever I’m in Cubao X even though I live in Pasay. Strangely enough, I never got to see any of the film screenings upstairs. Crispy Dilis and Red Horse will always remind of Mogwai too.
It is sad to hear that Mogwai closed down but I guess like everything in life, we are temporary arrangements.—Ed Cruz
Mogwai’s ‘dilis’
I cut my thigh on Mogwai’s dilis. My friends and I had dinner there and we ordered two batches of Crispy Dilis before leaving to watch a movie in Gateway. Crispy Dilis, we decided, would be our popcorn replacement. But there, in the dark theater, I ended up injuring myself on the dilis. That didn’t stop me from ordering it again though—a testament to how good that dilis was.
But fried fish wasn’t the only reason to go to Mogwai. The Bacon Liver Rolls were great too. And the Grilled Beef Tenderloin With Gravy. The beer was insanely cheap. So cheap that even if you were attending events in other parts of Cubao X, it was inevitable, you’d always end up drinking at Mogwai.
I spent one Halloween in Mogwai, watching Roman Polanski’s The Tenant. I had my own films screened in Mogwai—two short ones made for Lomomanila’s Cinemalomo, one about suicide and another about searching for meaning.
The last time I went there was in January. A few friends and I met up for a few rounds of beer. One friend was on a quick break from being stationed in Pakistan. We celebrated her return with chocolate cake smuggled in from Bellini’s. Another friend arrived late. We hadn’t seen him in a while. “How are the wedding plans?” we asked. “The wedding is off,” he said.
Mogwai was a place for catching up with friends, for breaking news both good and bad, for making plans for the future. It was a spot for random nothing nights, for life-changing moments, for grabbing a quick beer, for getting a dilis fix.
I have to admit I’ve taken Mogwai for granted. I thought it would always be around. I walked past it the last few times I went to Cubao X, not bothering to stop, not knowing the end was near.
If I had known, I would have gone there more. Pam Pastor
