More than two decades ago, Jacqueline and Marijoy Chiong disappeared. Shortly after, seven people (known as the Chiong 7) were arrested in connection with the crime; thanks to the witness testimony of one Davidson Rusia, all seven were convicted and sentenced to death, a sentence that was upheld by the Supreme Court. But of course things are not that simple.
Discussing Jaqueline Comes Home will not be complete without mentioning Give Up Tomorrow, a documentary that shows things from the side of the accused, specifically the alleged mastermind of the whole thing, Paco Larrañaga. I've seen this documentary before during its premiere in Cinemalaya, and it depicts a real life kafkaesque nightmare. It's clear that other than witness testimony, there was little in terms of concrete physical evidence that tied the victims to the killers. Regardless of whether or not the accused were truly guilty, this was a poorly investigated case. Despite this, our justice system deemed it fit to sentence these men anyway. While the film has its share of faults (the film itself admits its singular focus on Paco,) Give Up Tomorrow is about something larger than the Chiong case; it's about how our justice system is fallible, and that if a relatively well-off individual from a prominent family can experience such a thing, what more for the rest of us? You can watch the documentary in its entirety for free here and you can find additional information about the case on the director's youtube channel.
In any case, I am no judge. I cannot say for certain whether the Chiong 7 did it or not. So why was Jacqueline Comes Home made? Why unearth this particular case? What is this movie really about, and what interests does it serve, if any? And if it's about something, does it succeed in doing what it intended to do?
The true crime genre has been around for a while now, but Carlo J Caparas has elevated (or rather, lowered) it into a twisted artform that is both sensational and exploitative. Now it seems that he is trying to pass on his 'talents' to the next generation - his daughter, Ysabelle Peach, is the director of this film. And while the daughter is arguably a better filmmaker than her father, it's not by much.
Let us examine what the film tries to be. It's not about the truth, as it is a heavily fictionalized version of events. There's even a disclaimer at the very start of the film. It has certain scenes that do nothing but spread more rumors about the subject at hand. It clarifies nothing and dispels no rumors.
People involved with the film say it's not about the perpetrators, but a large chunk of the story focuses on them, depicting them as cartoonishly evil dudebros who can't keep their dick in their pants. Instead of Paco Larrañaga, we have Sonny (Ryan Eigenmann), a violent drunk who stalks the Chiong sisters mercilessly. He and his gang stalk, rape (and possibly kill) a girl before the Chiongs, something with no basis in real life. It seems like the filmmakers think that the audience doesn't possess the capacity to accept the crimes committed unless the perpetrators are caricatures. Then, almost as an afterthought, there's a scene where Thelma Chiong (Alma Moreno) talks with Sonny's mother, who asserts her son's innocence. In the light of the rape and murder we just saw, this conversation comes off as insincere; and if one takes Sonny as an avatar for Paco (not an unreasonable notion, given that the two look similar), it ends up smearing Paco's family as a group of people who maintain innocence for a person who has clearly done something wrong. And here, the character stand-in for Davidson Rusia is portrayed as an unwilling participant, even though the real life Rusia participated in the rape and murder, if his testimony is to be believed.
Does the film honor the Chiong sisters? Nope. Their rape scene is gratituous; even though the two are fully clothed during the act, it feels pornographic. Caparas revels in the violence, virtually fetishizing it by drawing it out and making it as the film's climactic moment. It feels utterly exploitative, tasteless and insensitive, and it's something I really couldn't stomach. Don't take it from me, ask Thelma Chiong, who walked out of the cinema when she saw this scene. The younger Caparas said later "...I apologized to her for bringing her back to that sad experience." Well, what the hell did she expect, putting that woman through additional trauma? Whatever dignity these two sisters have left is taken away by displaying their rape for all the world to see. But I feel the Caparases don't really care. I think they operate on some sort of self righteous mission to create entertainment in the name of 'seeking justice.' Case in point: the elder Caparas' 1994 movie, The Untold Story: Vizconde Massacre II - May the Lord Be with Us!, a sequel to his first Vizconde Massacre movie. Why a sequel? The victims are already dead, and this is no zombie movie. What worth is it to restage traumatic events again and again other than extra box office receipts? What the hell is up with these people?
Does the film honor the Chiong family? It seems doubtful. The Chiong brothers are almost non-existent after the sisters disappear, and youngest daughter Debbie is depicted as little more than a placeholder for Jaqueline (she even tells her mother to call her Jacqueline in one scene). The parents are shown grieving, but the amateurish filmmaking doesn't help make their case.
Does the film shine a positive light on Cebuanos? Nope. They are either depicted as scammers or bystanders unwilling to help the Chiong family gain closure.
Say, for the sake of argument, that we take this movie in a vacuum, disregarding the fact that it sensationalizes a very contentious case. Even in that case, Jaqueline Comes Home is mawkish and overwrought at best, ridiculous, badly written excrement at worst. There is a seance scene for no reason. God himself comes into the picture, and the Good Lord above talks to Thelma about some spiritual nonsense that really does nothing to help the case, but I guess it makes people feel better. Yay.
Does the film try to say anything else? Maybe one could say that it helps show how badly men behave, or maybe it tries to establish the facts of the case, however fictionalized they may be. That's not the case either. Whatever message the film may have embedded in it, the filmmaking needed to pull it off is simply not there. The timeline is fractured and confusing. In one scene the sisters are alive, and immediately after that their parents are mourning, although we don't pick up on this right away. While it's relatively better shot than the elder Caparas' contemporary films, it's still on par with ultra-low budget made for TV garbage.
Jaqueline Comes Home is as entertaining as a root canal. It's neither fair nor truthful, and it does a disservice to both the Chiongs and the accused. It insults the audience's intelligence for almost two hours, as it assumes we are all incapable of critical thought. "It is inept" is probably the nicest thing I can say about it. While production-wise it may not be the worst film I've seen this year, it certainly is one of the most sickening, tasteless films I've seen this year. I would call it an absolute failure, but it has helped reignite a discussion about the case, so at least it has that going for it.
I had initially planned to write something humorous about this film, but there's nothing funny about the circumstances behind the film, so I decided against it. There's a scene near the end that many other reviewers have noted where a couple of law students talk to each other about the case. Some of the students admit that they think that some of the accused may be innocent. But this is quickly brushed off, with one student saying that the justice system should be trusted, a statement I find laughably naive. Say, if the Chiong 7 did not commit the crime they were accused of, then there are two miscarriages of justice: first and foremost, Jacqueline and Marijoy's true killer may still run free, and seven people will have spent their lives in prison for nothing.
If we are to believe the rhetoric of Caparas and co, we should trust in our justice system 100%. No one is ever accused falsely, and the guilty are devils incarnate worthy of their punishment, like in many of the Caparas clan's other films, like Kamandag ng Droga, or Vizconde Massacre (God Help Us). No way could any of the accused actually not be guilty, and the appeals courts are apparently a joke.
Yeah. Remember the Vizconde Massacre? Remember Hubert Webb, who was tried and convicted of that crime? Where is he now?
So when's Vizconde Massacre III, you sick fucks?
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