The execrable The Barker is barely a movie

Coco (Empoy Marquez) is in love with Bela (Shy Carlos), but Bela's dad (Ronnie Lazaro) doesn't approve of the pairing. Coco pursues Bela all the way to the city, where he takes a job as a barker. Coco then gets involved with a group of shady individuals and a bag full of cash. That's the plot of The Barker, also called The Barker (Don't Know What To Do.) 

That sounds just about right. In all honesty, I (don't know what to do) with this fucking film. 

The Barker is barely a movie. It feels like something done on a whim, perhaps to capitalize on the huge success of Empoy Marquez in Kita Kita. Its extremely lean runtime of 76 minutes is full of meaningless filler, and the movie feels twice as long because it's paced excruciatingly slowly.

This is Dennis Padilla's first directing gig, and in my opinion it would probably be better if he stuck to acting. The Barker exhibits the equivalent directing skill of a grade six student making a student film as a school project, winging it on the last weekend before submission. It's a film that seems to think several pictures of the PNP logo, Bato and Duterte printed on bond paper (IN COLOR!) constitutes the production design for a police station. What extensive mise en scene! With considerable talent in the acting and technical department at Padilla's disposal, it all kinda went to waste. It's a shame, since he had national treasures like Nonie Buencamino and Ronnie Lazaro working for this film.

The film seems to misunderstand how jokes work. It's also wildly inconsistent; it seems to think male-gaze-ing some sexy woman's ass is nice, but it shies away from showing us two ladies kissing. It seems to think that Christmas lights on a coffin is funny. There's a scene where Gary Lim and Empoy practice barking through singing and making weird faces. Yay, that's a joke. Ha ha I guess. The film's jokes are corny and outdated. 

Hello The Barker, some dirty old men called, they want their dirty old tito jokes back. 

When action does happen in the movie, it's not very exciting; I found looking at my fellow moviegoers' glazed over eyes far more interesting. For a movie named The Barker, there aren't really many scenes of Coco doing the job; there are far more scenes of him daydreaming about being with Bela. Maybe the movie should be called The Daydreamer instead?

In any case, the movie ends with a dance sequence because 1) they wanted to pad the film out just a little bit more and 2) why not, they've already wasted your time for 70 minutes. After watching The Barker, I felt like I'd been swindled out of my money. If I were a devout man I'd take it as a sign that every day we stray further from God's light.

I guess I wouldn't feel as bad if I watched the movie for free or on a huge discount, like a senior citizen, or if my sense of humor were outdated or passe enough, like...

Hey...

QCinema 2017 | Loveless

Andrey Zvyagintsev's Loveless places us in the middle of a messy divorce between Boris (Aleksey Rozin) and Zhenya (Maryana Spivak). The relationship has gone completely toxic, and it's clear that they are completely unsuited for each other. In the fallout, they have both found new romantic partners, Boris with an already pregnant, elfish woman, and Zhenya with a rich middle aged man. But Boris and Zhenya's union has produced Alexey (Matvey Novikov), who obviously harbors resentment against what is happening - his silent tears are part of the film's most emotionally disturbing scenes. When Alexey mysteriously disappears, Boris and Zhenya begin a search for their lost son.

Perhaps one would be inclined to think that the disappearance would unite the two again, perhaps eventually leading them to cancel the divorce, ending with a heartwarming embrace. But this is Zvyagintsev we're talking about, and the film is as bleak as it gets. The disappearance only serves to magnify the dysfunctional relationship between Boris and Zhenya. They are both shitty people, and the film takes its time to show us how they can be shitty to each other. Alexey may have vanished, but his actual disappearance may have happened earlier in the minds of these two people, with both of them rejecting his existence, one spouse trying to pass the poor child to the other.

As usual, Zvyagintsev uses the disappearance as sociopolitical commentary. In its depiction of a severely dysfunctional society, it feels more similar to his earlier film Elena (2011). Alexey's disappearance is but a symptom of a far larger and more pervasive problem: a corrupt, unethical society that has lost the capacity to be empathetic. It's a society where we see an overburdened bureaucracy passing off the case of a missing child to volunteers to avoid more paperwork. It's a society where relationships become casual, with people ever more absorbed looking at their phones or some other form of media. For example, one scene inexplicably focuses on a woman as she is asked for her number (and she gives it!), just before she sits down with her date. Loveless in this case may refer not only to the failed marriage between Boris and Zhenya, but also to a society capable of producing such a union, a society capable of producing parents capable of horrendous neglect, a society incapable of producing genuine love.

It's felt when Boris and Zhenya settle into their new relationships, the giddy, euphoric state of newfound love slowly ebbing away to reveal that these two relationships may be just as doomed as the previous one, simply because they're part of a larger social structural malady. Loveless is an accomplished work, though at times hard to watch because of the subject matter involved.

QCinema 2017 | The Square

Ruben Ostlund's The Square begins with three activities that seem disparate, but are actually related in a way: scenes of beggars begging and petitioners asking in vain if people want to help, a grift that results in the theft of a wallet and phone, and the creation of the titular Square - the symbolic representation of the social contract, a space of trust, understanding and empathy. The first activity reflects the stark reality of the current state of that contract, the second is a transactional activity, in many respects a piece of performance art subverting that contract, and the third, an abstract, vague representation that is ultimately disconnected with the real world. Guess which one feels fake.

The Square makes its point early on, exposing the abject hypocrisy and privilege of the art world, and it keeps on making that point all throughout the film, just in case we forget. While art curator Christian (Claes Bang) presents works of art like the aforementioned square and an exhibit featuring mounds of gravel with backlit sign saying "you have nothing," it's juxtaposed with scenes of the museum receiving generous donations from wealthy patrons. While we see scenes of beggars in the streets of Sweden, a pervasive image that permeates the entire film, we also see decadent parties and marketing people blowing beggars up on video for provocation's sake. We see people try to make sense of the art being created, while at the same time we see it inexorably lost in postmodern gibberish.

Ostlund is no stranger to observing social commentary through satire; his earlier Force Majeure explored masculinity (or lack thereof) in modern times. The Square takes a slightly more ambitious slant, contending that in contemporary times, our capacity for sympathy and empathy has greatly diminished. Some people are so accustomed to their own self importance and privilege that they create art that professes to speak for people they really don't care about in real life - in a sense, the inherent irresponsibility of some works of art. Society has devolved into a state where social interaction is shallow and casual, fueled out of ego and self interest (a particular scene involving a condom comes to mind, a scene that plays with our own expectations as well.) 

Consider a scene in the middle of the film when a beggar asks Christian to buy her a chicken ciabatta sandwich. At first, Christian is gracious, eager to buy her the sandwich. But when she requests that the sandwich have no onions, what did you feel? Did you ask yourself, 'how dare she make demands on charity?' Ask yourself instead, "why not?" Maybe she was allergic to onions or something. Christian's reaction is expected, but is damning: it reveals his intentions behind the charity as merely a means to make himself feel good, to do his nice deed for the day. The dismissive way he chucks the sandwich to the woman afterwards is telling. This is characteristic of most of the characters of the film. When a realization does come to one of the characters, it's far too late, the film deciding to stay on the uncomfortable silence that follows.

The movie is poorly served by an extended running time; making the same point over and over again can feel tedious if one has to stay through 140 minutes of it. Otherwise, The Square is a pretty solid film. Perhaps it does not reach the same impact as Ostlund's Force Majeure did, but it remains one of my favorite films of the year.

QCinema 2017 | Medusae is a dark fairy tale about motherhood and loss

Alfa (Desiree Del Valle) is a documentary filmmaker. Her latest documentary leads her to investigate the mysterious disappearances of the first born children of a small island community. She takes her son Luni (Carl Palaganas) with her. It's clear the two of them have an acrimonious relationship, thanks in part to their own personalities. But when Luni disappears, Alfa looks back on her relationship with her son as she tries to find him.

Medusae is unlike anything I've ever seen either in local or international cinema. It's a weird fairy-tale like amalgamation of symbols, mysticism and even biology. It tries to parse the divide between mother and child through Alfa's self-examination. It talks of bereavement and acceptance; it talks of love even in the worst relationships between mother and child.

That said, the film largely feels incomplete. The sound design is off; with dialogue sometimes sounding canned or muddy. While Luni's disappearance does lead to a bit of contemplation, Alfa's campaign to search for her son isn't as extensive as I would expect, though to be fair aside from asking the locals there really isn't much one can do but wait. Ultimately the film feels like a work in progress, and it would probably be a good idea to look back at the film once it's more polished than it is now.

Medusae is a fascinating film full of creative, original ideas. Its final moments are mysterious, a sensory cipher that bewilders and haunts. Yet, unfortunately, it is weighed down by certain aspects of its production.

QCinema 2017 | Kulay Lila ang Gabi na Binudburan pa ng mga Bituin

Based on a Palanca-award winning screenplay, Kulay Lila ang Gabi na Binudburan pa ng mga Bituin tells the story of Aries and Chai, who have decided to go on a couples' retreat to salvage what's left of their eroding marriage. Their stated goal is to have a baby, but that's the least of their problems: it's obvious that both Aries and Chai both have personal neuroses and emotional baggage that puts a significant strain on their relationship.

At first the setting of the film seems like something rooted in magical realism: neither Aries nor Chai can leave the retreat until the matter is resolved, and the background tends to do strange things. It's explained in detail later on, radically altering our perceptions. However, our understanding of the characters hasn't really changed.

The film remains faithful to the script, which could either work for or against the film depending on how one interprets it. While it's mostly wildly entertaining, the script tends to devolve into theatrics, making the movie feel more like a play on film rather than a proper screenplay. The dialogue tends to be a little bit more crass than usual, with characters choosing to speak their emotions out loud. It ultimately feels too unnatural, too staged. At the same time, since we are seeing projected inner thoughts, the lack of decorum is somewhat justified in some scenes. It's a genuine example of why the "best" screenplays don't always translate into the best films.

The production doesn't match the film's visual ambitions as well. There are some CGI scenes that wouldn't look out of place in a commercial in the late nineties. They're supposed to be transitional scenes juxtaposing the enormity of the universe and the smallness of this couple's problems, but they just look cheap and unconvincing.

That said, there's something about this film that I can't shake off. Like its fellow QCinema film Dormitoryo, a large chunk of the enjoyment of this film stems from unraveling its characters' true motivations and feelings. The film's catharsis comes from the fact that there is no catharsis for our characters; once they think they've found a breakthrough, they settle back into old rhythms.

Kulay Lila ang Gabi na Binudburan pa ng mga Bituin suffers from some heavy flaws, but there's something about it that interests me, enough so that I can't completely dismiss it out of hand.

QCinema 2017 | Balangiga: Survival and freedom in the "Howling Wilderness"

In response to the attack in Balangiga that constituted the greatest US Army defeat since Little Bighorn in 1876, General Jacob Smith told his subordinates to turn Samar "into a howling wilderness." More than 100 years later, the actual number of Filipino casualties remains unknown.

In Balangiga: Howling Wilderness, we see the aftermath of that retaliation, a literal hellscape littered with dead bodies and devastation. Young Kulas and his grandfather attempt to escape Smith's order of indiscriminate violence against the population but they meet several obstacles along the way.

Over the years Khavn has continued his exploits as cinematic provocateur. His films have managed to push boundaries in terms of genre and subject matter. Yet Balangiga may be one of his more accessible films; the film itself feels like a whimsical child's coming of age journey, but with a decidedly subversive tint.

The film melds ideas of freedom from oppression and the lingering ghost of imperialism that haunts our country even now. In witnessing his fight for survival, we become Kulas. The desire for freedom is written in our very souls. We as a people yearn to live our lives in peace, free of the concerns of other people. Kulas' life becomes his own, and his journey becomes a journey of self realization towards finding meaning in life. Sometimes though, the journey never really ends.

The film is prone to fits of weirdness, but that's really par for the course for any Khavn film. His frames are saturated in color and high contrast, creating a feeling of un-realism within the stark reality of the war. It's also filled with strange dream imagery and mystic symbolism. Much like his other work, this is a film that is meant to be felt and experienced, and it gives no easy answers.

QCinema 2017 | In the darkness of Neomanila, no one is innocent

There's a scene in Mikhail Red's third film Neomanila that serves as a statement of its central thesis. Raul (Rocky Salumbides), a killer for hire, tells young Toto (Timothy Castillo) that in this day and age, there really isn't a difference between suspects and victims. Toto then counters it, saying that one of the unfortunate victims of one of their operations - a small child - is a victim, and just that. 

Whether we like it or not, we have entered a new age of Philippine film. Cinema has always served as a mirror to the zeitgeist, and cinema in the time of this present administration has definitely done that. While most of the films about the country's war on drugs have been trashy, self righteous garbage, there are some films that offer insightful commentary on the implications of this war and its culture of impunity.

The world of Neomanila - the Neo- prefix seems appropriate - looks the same as it's always been, but it's a Manila that's changed. It's a city whose moral landscape has increasingly gone grey, with no true good or evil characters anywhere in sight. Perhaps such moral greyness has been around even before the war started. There's just no use in hiding it now.

The film is shot mostly at night, and is framed in such a way that we see skyscrapers in the distance, as if what is going on exists in the underground, far from the concerns of the city center. Neomanila is a city that is filled with seedy elements, drug couriers, sex dens, and 'sponsored' assassins: as gritty as a city can get, hidden under bright neon lights. It's not for the weak willed or the squeamish.

Yet in a world where things get as dark as it gets, there's still room for human relationships. The central relationship in the film is between Irma (Eula Valdez) an assassin for hire, and Toto. She obviously treats Toto like her son, the two going out on an trip around the city singing Karaoke and bonding. It's uncertain if Toto feels the same way about Irma, and if the camerawork is any indication, his feelings may be tinged with Oedipal undertones. In any case, both leads constitute some of the festival's best acting work yet, and I wouldn't be surprised if either Valdez or Castillo win something for their performances in this film.

This is all done with Mikhail Red's confident directorial hand. From his earlier short film work to Rekorder to Birdshot to this film, Red has proven himself to be a capable director with a high level of technical finesse. I'm excited to see how he develops further on his next film.

I really have only one complaint about the film and it's more of a nitpick than anything else. Also, I can't really talk much about it without spoiling the film. Let's just say that when the film introduces a new character, the film doesn't take its time with that character, which weakens the film's ultimate resolution a bit. Perhaps some viewers will see the film as too edgy or lurid, but that's up to personal taste.

In any case, the film ends with real news reports of grisly deaths from the current drug war, and that's probably the most unsettling thing about the movie: Neomanila may be fiction, but there's more of it based on reality than one may think.

Neomanila is, in my opinion, a worthy addition to a solid body of directorial work. Though Birdshot remains my favorite film of his, I get the impression that a lot of people will rank this among the year's best. Considering that Red has made only three full lengths so far, that's pretty insane.

QCinema 2017 | Dormitoryo

In 2011, Emerson Reyes released a great short film called Walang Katapusang Kwarto. It was witty, solidly constructed and was overall a great short film. Six years later, Reyes is back with Dormitoryo, a full length version of the original film. While it capably expands on the premise of the original, the mere process of expansion leads to a couple of drawbacks.

Dormitoryo takes the story of Walang Katapusang Kwarto (with original actors Max Celada and Sheenly Gener reprising their roles) and uses it as the central story of this film, fleshing out the stories of people merely mentioned in the original short. It soon becomes clear that all of the other tenants have their own share of problems, insecurities and neuroses. There's the perpetually horny student who has trouble with his chosen course, the lonely landlady separated from her family, longing for more human interaction, a gay couple contemplating suicide and a couple on the verge of a major shift in their relationship.

Reyes seems to enjoy portraying imperfect lives in transition supported by a central story. His first feature length film, MNL 143, operates on a similar premise, and it's evident he's refined his technique in the intervening years. His characters are very human,  relatable even, but they are weighed down by a brokenness rooted in loneliness and isolation, even if they share a room with someone else.

The film takes its time building upon these stories of broken people. Like in the original film, it peels back layers of secrets, letting the audience slowly learn new pieces of information over time. Some characters are more fleshed out than others, with the film sometimes deciding to withhold information instead of spoon-feeding the audience. Finding out more about these characters is part of the fun.

The film isn't without its faults, however. In the process of expanding its running time, the original story loses a bit of its tempo, diluting its comedic effect and wit. Though the added stories are nice, even great, the original story remains the most interesting story in the film. The ending is somewhat telegraphed, though the way it plays out feels at times like a cop out instead of a legitimate resolution.

If you haven't seen the original film, it might be a good idea to watch this film first, in order to preserve any revelations the original and this film both share. It's delightful to peel back the layers of Dormitoryo, to uncover the truth behind these people's facades, even though the transition from short to full length doesn't entirely work out.

QCinema 2017 | QCinema Shorts Program (A and B)

Before we get to today's full length features, let's take a look at the festivals shorts competition entries first, because short films deserve some love.

QC SHORTS A

SHORT SHORTS REVIEWS

Let's face it, you've probably seen the plot of Anya Ti' Nagan Mo? lots of times in lots of short films past. But that really doesn't take away from the fact that it's a sweet film about home, which (if you believe the popular adage) is where the heart is. As a small footnote, I was pleasantly surprised to see MJ Jacobo, one of the subjects of Sunday Beauty Queen, in this film.

The basic premise of Babylon is pretty simple: two girls go back in time to assassinate a barangay dictator. But how the film gets there is something crazy in and of itself. Like Keith Deligero's film Lily (2016), Babylon has a certain irreverent, punkish aesthetic that is wildly entertaining and hilariously funny. There are also some jokes in Cebuano that gets stuff under the radar, so to speak. (Ask a Cebuano speaker what the chicken is saying.)

Flavored by lush underwater cinematography, Gikan sa Ngitngit nga Kinailadman is a movie that isn't driven by a conventional narrative structure. It's better felt rather than understood, and in making us feel the emotions it wants to convey it's largely up to the viewer. In my case, it's a short film full of powerful images: that of a revolution long forgotten, of rebels deep in the forest, of a police car announcing curfew, its siren sounding like a widow's wail.

My favorite short film from shorts A has to be Kun' Di Man, about two lonely blind musicians who begin to realize they need each other. Even though it's short, it's no less emotionally powerful. I still think of its images hours after I've seen them, a testament to the indelible power of wanting to be loved.

QC SHORTS B

SHORT SHORTS REVIEWS

There's something profound behind what Link is trying to say about the creative process, in the relationship between creator and creation, but ultimately it feels a bit inadequate in this case. 

From the team that made one of my favorite films of 2015, Manang Biring, Love Bites is about two people finding each other in old age, through a certain quirk that really can only be done by senior citizens. Love Bites is a stop motion animated film, and in my experience, the amount of technical skill put into a project like this is praiseworthy. Sure, the film can get hokey, but it isn't really that big a problem.

There's no doubt that Pixel Paranoia was made with a shoestring budget; I mean, weird "surgeries" can't be done with any kind of precision with only a knife and a pair of thick rubber gloves, no matter how underground or illegal it may be. But there's a certain texture to this film that I like, especially in the last few sequences where things get really crazy, where the film begins to subvert and play on your expectations. That said, it feels like a film that doesn't take itself too seriously. In the way it gives no fucks, the film also has something of a playful quality to it.

My favorite short film from shorts B, and probably my favorite of this year's shorts program, is Si Astri Maka si Tambulah, about a transwoman and a man who are in love but are torn apart by traditions and prejudices within their society. There's also a bit of commentary on the dowry system and how people from the Badjao tribe (as well as many other tribes in Mindanao) get engaged and get married. It's simple and a bit predictable, but it's still tragic.

QCinema 2017 | Dapol Tan Payawar Na Tayug 1931, a history of class struggle in three acts

In 1931, a band of peasants led by Pedro Calosa staged a revolt against the local government and landlords of Tayug, Pangasinan. Calosa had previously gotten into trouble in Hawaii due to him organizing a labor union, and upon his return, he planned to establish a colorum society in Tayug.

The siege ultimately lasted for just under a day. Though the ruling Americans attributed the revolt to a bunch of hooligans taken to looting, the revolt was fueled by increasing rage and resentment against an unfair feudal system that took advantage of the poor. Calosa was imprisoned for forty years and was subsequently released in the sixties.

Though Calosa and his exploits are largely forgotten today, Dapol Tan Payawar Na Tayug 1931 is not the first cinematic depiction of Pedro Calosa's life: the most notable entry is Gerardo De Leon's 1947 film Tayug (Ang Bayang Api) which starred De Leon himself as Calosa. Instead of relying on a traditional narrative structure, Dapol Tan Payawar Na Tayug 1931 takes a more experimental approach to telling its story, extending beyond a mere recollection of the event into something reflexively critical and introspective.

Calosa's story in Dapol Tan Payawar Na Tayug 1931 is told as a triptych of three intersecting narratives: the first is a silent-era film treatment of Calosa's formation of the Tayug Colorum leading to the night before the revolt, the second is a 1960's French New Wave/European Cinema inspired take on Calosa, now a mystical religious figure in the mountains, as he is interviewed by author F. Sionil Jose and David Sturtevant, and the third is a present-day photomontage of a filmmaker (Fe Hyde) as she attempts to make a film about Calosa's life and struggles.

The first part adds background to the story, with Calosa as a visionary beset by mystical entities and the ghosts and spirits of heroes and notable figures, spurring him onto greatness. The second part sees Calosa as a man changed by his experiences, shaped by the nature of the religious beliefs of the Colorum, a strange amalgamation of atavistic, paganistic and Christian concepts. The third section looks back on the event in the present day; this is the part where the revolt itself is described to us by words, giving historical context to the events and the aftermath.

The peasants' struggle is but one of many struggles over the centuries, as feudalism gave way to capitalist states - perhaps with different dynamics but employing similar systems of oppression. The shared DNA of struggle across cultures is reflected in the film's very framework, such as its usage of African American music evocative of the antebellum south. There is also an undercurrent of sadness in the second and third parts as we see that this struggle is eternal - the revolt did little to enact lasting change in the oppressive systems that are still largely in place today.

Yet the experimental treatment may prove to be an acquired taste; the film has an occasional tendency to be overindulgent. The film does not dwell too much on the religious aspects of Calosa's movement - it is said that one of the reasons behind the revolt is to legitimize the Philippine Independent Church as the national church. Some musical selections (such as Bach's Air) tend to add schmaltz to  supposedly serious scenes. In making us understand the struggle, the film tends to take on a dry, academic tone, and it only succeeds to evoke genuine emotion during its final moments, when we see the tragedy of Calosa's two deaths - the death of his mortal body, related to us by his family and the other related to us as the death of his memory, through forgetting Calosa's achievements and legacy. 

But perhaps that second death hasn't come yet. Through films like this that seek to educate us about Calosa's life, the spirit of the man and his struggle will live on.

QCinema 2017 | The Chanters: memory, culture and family

Sarah Mae is your average preteen girl - she's obsessed with pop songs, and she's a fan of the soap opera Kiss Me ❤❤ and its lead actress Danica Reyes. She has no interest in the culture of her tribe, but her grandfather Ramon is the last chanter of the Panay Bukidnon tribe. As a chanter, he has memorized the epics of the Sugidanon, the oral tradition of the Panay Bukidnon. With a visit by her favorite TV star on the horizon, Sarah Mae decides to use the chants as a way to get closer to Danica.

We've been introduced to the Panay Bukidnon before in Cinemalaya 2016's Tuos, but The Chanters is far more similar to 2015's Ari: My Life With a King in the ways it portrays the slow death of cultural heritage. This time, instead of merely connecting culture and place, The Chanters connects memory, culture and family together.

As Ramon's memories start to fade, the traditions of the Panay Bukidnon start to fade with it. But it is made even more resonant and tragic given how family members themselves 'disappear' when dementia takes them. Family, the film posits, is the fundamental unit of a culture. Without people, a culture or a tradition has no reason to exist. It's even stated near the end of the film; we are the Sugidanon. Sarah Mae's realization is reflected in the film's frames, curiously shot in a 4:3 ratio and, cleverly enough, through subtitles. Her realization and catharsis thus becomes our own in the film's final frames - a shared experience between film, filmmaker and audience.

That said, the film is pretty lighthearted, perhaps sometimes too lighthearted for its own good. While Sarah Mae's character arc flows well, there isn't much of a dramatic turn near the end to fully earn the conclusion reached in the film's final sequence. After the film's major dramatic moment, things seem to be in a hurry to finish things up.

Ultimately, however, it doesn't significantly impair the rest of the film. The Chanters is a fine film that shines despite a couple of flaws. It's an interesting portrait of fading traditions in a world in cultural flux.

Extra note: the synopsis of The Chanters in the QCinema film guide is a bit misleading; it's best to just go into this movie blind, or just disregard the last line or so from the synopsis.

QCinema 2017 | The Write Moment tries to expose the selfishness of "hugot"

Hugot (v. literally "to draw" or "pull out." In this context - something (i.e. a story or narrative) that is deeply sentimental and/or emotional, usually in the context of unrequited love.)

When a writer-slash film editor (Jerald Napoles) breaks up with his longtime girlfriend (Valeen Montenegro), it's devastating. He decides to write about it in the form of a script, which reads like your run of the mill "hugot" romantic movie. When the script begins to literally take over his life, things get complicated.

On paper, there's a lot to like about The Write Moment: the movie recognizes that in any relationship, there are always two sides of a story; stories of "hugot" are usually built on one-sided personal narratives. The movie then goes on to critique that idea - through externalizing these "hugot" stories in reality, we see that the one-sidedness removes the agency of the other party, and that's just plain wrong. This wrongness is embodied best during a sequence that could have been lifted straight from the ending of a Star Cinema romance. It's supposed to be a moment of happiness for all concerned, but everything about it is off. That's what happens when one tries to force an idealization that shouldn't be forced - heck, look what happened to the characters in 2012's Ruby Sparks.

In that regard, Jerald Napoles fits the role nicely. He's funny, charming, yet there's a certain amount of creepiness about the whole affair and he manages to pull it off without overdoing it. The film also has its share of hilarious scenes, the best of which is a mundane looking sequence involving a snarky photographer.

That said, the film suffers from some heavy flaws. Ultimately, the film is too roughly constructed and too loose, making the film feel like a pastiche of barely connected scenes. This rears its ugly head in the middle of the film, where the film gets lost trying to set itself up, and during the ending, where nothing is truly concluded. It's a shame, too, since the film had an interesting thesis and it ultimately built up to nothing much.

While it does address some interesting concepts, and while I do appreciate how it critiques the inherent problems in "hugot" stories, The Write Moment could have benefited from further refinements to its own script - as it is, the whole thing feels pretty rough.

QCinema 2017 | Loving Vincent (Opening Film)

October is time for QCinema, one of the biggest film festivals in the Philippines. From a dinky little festival five years ago, this event has come a long way, and this year, the festival opens up with Loving Vincent, the world's first fully painted motion picture.

The film opens up one year after Van Gogh's death; Armand Roulin (Douglas Booth) is tasked by his postman father to give a letter to Vincent's brother Theo. In the process of doing this, Armand learns of Vincent's final days from the people around him and a mystery begins to form. 

In framing the film as a mystery, the film considers a certain theory regarding Van Gogh's death, in that it was not a suicide, but something else. However, that plotline doesn't really pan out. While it gives us a glimpse of Van Gogh's life, Loving Vincent is hardly autobiographical. Narratively the film just wanders around until it comes with a realization that is only partially earned. Van Gogh remains an enigma; a brilliant artist whose motives and true intentions remain in the dark.

But I guess that's the point. In this film it's made increasingly clear that loving Vincent is different than knowing Vincent - and the movie's frames are all saturated with love. One character even echoes this in dialogue - and I paraphrase - how Vincent died is not as important as how he lived. Every single frame of this film is an oil painting, painstakingly made by over 100 painters fluent in Van Gogh's style. And they incorporate some of Van Gogh's most popular paintings into the mise en scene; the film opens and ends with his most famous work, The Starry Night. It's also reflective of the evolution of his style - flashback scenes are painted slightly different in black and white, similar to Van Gogh's black and white studies in the early 1880s. Scenes set in present day evoke his style during the latter half of the 1880s, when his artistic career took off. It's all meticulously crafted, a truly astounding homage to the man and his art. Visually it's one of the most gorgeous films of the year.

Perhaps we may never know Van Gogh the man, but through this film we can come to know Van Gogh the artist through his art, reflected in these frames. Its plot plays second fiddle to everything else, but if only for its amazing visuals it's worth taking a look into.

After a few more preview screenings next week, Loving Vincent opens in PH theaters November.

Bad Genius: a thrilling academic caper with stinging commentary

Test taking may seem mundane, but ask anyone who has taken a test in their life and they'd probably relate to you a particularly harrowing test taking story. Taking a test, especially an important one, is a bundle of stress precariously balanced on a mountain of nerves. It's especially tough here in Asia, where academic culture is cutthroat, in the minds of some, even Darwinist - with most countries beholden to the Confucian focus on academic achievement. And yet, as Nattawut Poonpiriya's film Bad Genius tells us, it isn't a pure meritocracy - social hierarchies, power and privilege manage to corrupt the system down to its very core. 

When Lynn (Chutimon Chuengcharoensukying), a talented student, enters senior high school, it's on the back of years of achievements built through hard work. After surreptitiously helping her friend Grace (Eisaya Hosuwan) on a test, Grace's boyfriend, Pat (Teeradon Supapunpinyo) offers her a chance to monetize her skills, constructing an elaborate scheme of cheating that seems an absurd ethical clusterfuck on the surface but feels exhilarating executed on screen. Lynn accepts the job at first out of a desire for monetary gain, but there's a certain feeling that she's also out to game the system to protest its crookedness - this is a system where "tutored" students gain exam questions just by paying a few thousand baht, or where unqualified brats get through school with a couple of generous donations. Lynn knows that life is stacked against her; this is her way of playing the game.

Poonpiriya frames Bad Genius as a heist film and it proves to be one of the film's greatest assets. The movie clocks at over two hours but is rarely boring - the film is filled with tense, nail biting moments from start to finish. It's one of the most riveting cinematic experiences I've had in a while. Aside from the overwhelming tension, the characters are relatively fleshed out, most of the tension stemming from the characters' interactions with each other. 

At times I was reminded of the 2000 Jeff Davis starrer Cheaters. In that film a group of high school students also tried to game the system through their own means, set in an environment where the game is unfairly stacked against them as well. But this film is different in that it adds an extra layer of social commentary that proves biting.

Bad Genius reflects social divisions in Thai society that I see here as well - "palakasan" culture is more than prevalent in the Philippines and elsewhere. People like Pat and Grace may not be book smart, but they know how to use their privilege to manipulate people. People like Lynn and fellow A-student Bank may have all the book smarts, but they are both used time and again for the benefit of bourgeois aspirations.

A wild joyride from start to finish, Bad Genius is a thrilling movie that works on multiple levels and comes highly recommended.

QCinema 2017 Schedules as of 10/10/17 (Printable)

PDF format. 

I based this off of the schedules on the official site at the QCinema official website. I just compiled the results. Credits go to the people who made the website.

Schedules at Cinematheque Centre Manila are not yet available.

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Blade Runner 2049: the futility of connection, the seduction of purpose

The original Blade Runner is a science fiction classic. Sculpted from the mold of Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Ridley Scott helped create the Cyberpunk genre, leaving the film's DNA in countless other science fiction films since. The announcement of a sequel, then, came with an equal sense of elation and trepidation. Thankfully, the concerns were largely unwarranted: Blade Runner 2049 is a stunning film.

Set 30 years after the original film, the sequel follows K (Ryan Gosling), a Blade Runner tasked with 'retiring' the remaining rogue replicant models from earlier times. The world has changed a lot since the end of the first film: the Tyrell Corporation, the original creators of the replicants, has bit the dust, replaced by a bigger, badder corporation with their own line of subservient replicants. In the course of a simple investigation, K begins to explore what it truly means to be human.

Blade Runner 2049 expands on the concepts established by the first film. There are themes of identity and disconnection in the first film, where the hunted replicants try to understand their own existence and their purpose in life. In this film, these concepts are expanded upon, and new themes join them. In the world of 2049, the world has undergone drastic change, yet many sociocultural problems remain: people still lack a sense of connection with each other, people take the environment for granted, and people still mistreat and marginalize other groups of people (take note that the hierarchy of the first film has only solidified even more with this film, with a racially pure upper class and a multicultural lower class.)

Blade Runner 2049 is filled with wide shots, often juxtaposing its characters and large, expansive vistas. In his third collaboration with Denis Villeneuve, Roger Deakins uses his mastery of light and shadow to communicate the smallness of our characters, a sense of desolation both literal and visual. This becomes a source of existential dread, a fear of being a mere insignificant speck in a vast and uncaring universe. Many of the characters in Blade Runner 2049 seek purpose in life, seeking definitions of their identity that transcend mere 'humanity'. Some seek this purpose in the form of a  predestined role written out for them. But the film holds no deterministic pretensions. Ultimately, the film says, our purpose comes from the meaning we put into it ourselves. There are no saviors or messiahs other than the ones we become through our own means.

Other than asking "am I real?" Blade Runner 2049 asks, "are my memories and emotions real?" and "is this connection real?" Amidst its heterotopic landscapes, the people of 2049 are even more isolated from each other than ever before, a source of enduring despair and loneliness. Within that despair, K tries to connect with a virtual companion, Joi. One then wonders if the relationship they share is real, even though one side of that relationship is controlled by algorithms and code. One of the film's major visual motifs this time around are not (just) eyes, but also hands - after all, we try to touch what we cannot see with our eyes; it is the major conduit for intimate human interaction. It's this sense, this longing for communication that shapes the character of K and many other characters. It manifests as hands that appear to caress, but might not be felt, as hands both real and imaginary syncing to provide manufactured intimacy, as hands that maim and kill and comfort - as a hand against a pane of glass, yearning for reconnection.

Thematically dense, expertly lensed and scored, and filled with amazing performances, Blade Runner 2049 is one of the year's best films. Though deliberately paced, it is absorbing and immersive. It not only serves as a worthy sequel to the original film, it stands by itself as an astounding piece of science fiction.

New Generation Heroes is bloated with unnecessary drama

I just have to add, this poster is horrible

There's a scene in Anthony Fernandez' New Generation Heroes that perfectly encapsulates what the film is all about: in the last scene of the film, Anita Linda makes an inspirational speech about teachers. It's all well and good until the speech begins to drag. By this time, the film decides to cut out to reaction shots of the crowd (even obviously reusing some shots) to try in vain to keep one's attention. By the time the speech was finished, I no longer remembered what the speech was about, except that lesson plans are very important.

The movie starts out like a lighthearted character based drama, featuring four teachers with wildly varying backgrounds: Jao Mapa is a Grade 5 graduate who pays back his community by giving lessons to poor kids and street children. He befriends Anita Linda, a retired and distinguished principal (for what, the movie never elaborates.) Aiko Melendez is a foreign language teacher based in Korea who faces family issues at home, and Joyce Penas is a hardworking teacher/single mom who sidelines a lot to support her two sons.

That said, the film isn't well written. We're supposed to marvel at Anita Linda's teaching skills, but aside from one bizarre sequence involving a random home invader we don't really know why we should do so. Aiko Melendez's story arc takes a bizarre turn and even segues into an aborted EJK/Drug War commentary that is completely unnecessary. For the film's second half the film seems to forget that its about teachers, instead deciding to focus on irrelevant drama. Only Joyce Penas' story arc has any sort of emotional heft, and even that is marred by an awkward sequence with her gay son coming out to her.

As an advocacy film, the movie takes its time to explain a few things about teachers, such as community support for volunteer teachers and OFW teachers who want to return home. But these things are buried deep under fluff, and the advocacy becomes lost in the noise. New Generation Heroes is a movie that could have ended harmlessly an hour early, but instead decided to overstay its welcome.

Cinelokal | Singing in Graveyards: the life and death of a shadow

Pepe (Pepe Smith) is an aging rock musician. For years he has impersonated an older, more popular rockstar, Joey Smith (also Pepe Smith.) The years haven't been kind to Pepe: he's estranged from his family, he's working at a run down bar, where people only use him because of his connection with Joey Smith, despite the fact that he has his share of remarkable deeds as well. The curious thing is, the "real" Joey Smith in this film isn't that well off either: his bandmates are all dead, he hasn't performed in years and he's an arrogant ass who has sold out, selling himself on whatever trash reality TV show will take him. The current Joey Smith is a far cry from the legendary rock star of the seventies.

So how does one become a shadow of a shadow? The concept of one's self image and how that reflects how people view that same person is at the center of Singing in Graveyards. Pepe is trapped in a loopy situation where he tries to recreate the past while the spectre of the present haunts him, and the present is impossible to escape as it is in the here and now.

This theme of identity affects most of the other characters in the film as well. Pepe's partner is Mercedes (Mercedes Cabral), a struggling actress trying to break out of her image as a sexy actress, reflecting the real Mercedes Cabral's wish to shy away from exploitative sexy roles and do thoughtful, high concept art film roles. One wonders what dreams lay in the mind of Pepe's estranged son (Ely Buendia), who seems to be as equally talented with the guitar but shows no intention to follow in his father's footsteps.

Perhaps it is easier to view Pepe and Joey Smith the characters as two aspects of the same person, the real life Pepe Smith, a legend and pioneer of Filipino Rock. In that case the film takes a pseudo-biographical slant, while also tackling ideas of artistic integrity versus acquiescing to the system and compromising art for commerce. Director Bradley Liew mixes setpieces with elements both surreal and grounded in reality, the film steeped in influences rooted in contemporary Malaysian filmmaking, but with Filipino sensibilities as well.

The characters in Singing in Graveyards either find a way to escape from this shadow, while some don't. Some make this escape too late. Ultimately, when a shadow looks back at a life following someone else, he finds out that his footsteps are lost; a consequence of walking single file with the person they are following. And in the resolution of Singing in Graveyards, identity is discarded, perhaps replaced, and one wonders where the impersonator ends and the real deal begins.

Cinelokal screens at selected SM cinemas, with new films out every Friday. Visit the Cinelokal Facebook page for more details.