The realm of Magikland is in trouble. The evil forces of Mogrodo-or have taken the kingdom from its rightful rulers and things look bleak. In desperation, the deposed rulers seek out "champions" from our world in order to save them from complete darkness. It just turns out that those four champions are a bunch of kids.
Magikland reminds me of the type of movies the MMFF came to be known for in the early 2000s (and probably a bit earlier) - effects-driven, family friendly films. And it comes as no surprise, either - the late Peque Gallaga, director of the seminal Magic Temple (1996) helped make the film in order to promote the theme park of the same name. This is that type of MMFF film, refined and reimagined for modern times with modern filmmaking magic.
The film's production design stands out, creating a world that feels fantastical, but is often rooted in a design sensibility that feels recognizably Filipino. The CGI is spotty at some points, but when it works, it works very well.
The film also manages to look into the lives of these children outside the world of fantasy: Boy's mother is dying and he uses the Magikland game to retreat into his own world, and Kit and Maya are children on the opposite sides of separated parents. But it is Pat's story arc that gained my attention the most. Compared to his relatively well-off friends, Pat is poor and unwanted, subjected to abuse and judgement by his peers and local authorities, and he would not have been scouted by the people of Magikland if he had not gained access to a stolen cellphone. Access to Magikland is a privilege he gains access to by chance, but even then, he is integral to the success of the quest - he simply wasn't given the chance to excel on his own by society at large. His mystical item is a defensive item, perhaps an inadvertent piece of subtext commenting on resilience narratives? One's interpretation may vary. And at the end of the film, he elects to stay, because he knows that in an oppressive society like ours, there's no place for someone like him. It's one of the quiet tragedies of the film and I can't stop thinking about it even long after the credits have rolled.
It's a shame we didn't get to see this film in cinemas - perhaps one day, when the conditions are right, we can see ambitious blockbusters like this in theaters again.
They exude charisma, they say the right words, they do the right things. People love them when they do that, and sometimes, people love them even when they don't. We see them as immaculate paragons, even though that veneer of perfection can be manufactured.
Sometimes people see them as gods.
It's not a phenomenon that's exclusive to our country, and it's not our first time, either. Lino Brocka knew, in his 1980 film Bona, how our unique culture, shaped by colonial forces, makes us perfect candidates for this kind of phenomenon. Our learned behavior towards blind faith, and our proclivity towards seeing strongmen as saviors, has fooled us before. In Antoinette Jadaone's Fan Girl, that idea is there too. Different strongman, different time, but people are suffering all the same. But the object of desire in this film is no bit player, he's a fictionalized version of one of the country's most well-known actors, Paulo Avelino. And the titular fan girl in the center of our story, Jane (a revelatory Charlie Dizon) is perhaps not as self sacrificing as Aunor's Bona, but they both eventually reach similar conclusions. She desires the object of her worship; the mere proximity to her idol becomes an intoxicating drug. But she wants more. She is not as blind as we think.
The self-reflexivity in the film is interesting, considering that, for a film produced partly by ABS-CBN's Black Sheep, that same celebrity culture owes its current level of cultural reach to Star Cinema and its ilk. In fact, the fictional If We Fall in Love, the movie within a movie that figures in Fan Girl's central storyline, feels like it could've been made by Star Cinema.
It's a movie whose course evokes similarities to Jadaone's own Alone/Together (2019), in that it explores a woman's coming of age and emancipation from the cultural shackles that bind her both as a woman and as a blind follower. And in this film, when Jane finally wakes up, she sees that her obsession is mirrored everywhere - and not just with matinee idols. In fact, if one looks closely, they exist in plain sight. But therein lies the catharsis: Jane has awakened. And when one wakes up, it would be travesty to close one's eyes again.
Benny (Jinggoy Estrada) is a shitty man. He left his family for another woman, and there's no disputing that. The film tries to frame it like the other party seduced him, but the film fails; after all, it takes two to tango and after the fact, he stayed with his mistress for good. This was Benny's decision, and nothing more. He does this despite the fact that his eldest son gave his kidney (and died) for his sake. Let me repeat this: he made a conscious choice to leave his wife and family.
Benny finds his way back home to his family after years of being absent. It's more like his wheelchair-bound self is dumped on the curb by his new partner, which is frankly more than he deserves. It's unclear whether he himself made the decision to return or his new wife decided for him, because when he arrives he looks sick as shit.
His children mostly do not want anything to do with Benny. They've all been traumatized in one way or another due to their father's actions and are all the worse for it. One is stuck in an abusive relationship. The other deals with it by emulating his father's behavior, falling in love with a married woman. The other one took being absent seriously and gets lost at sea. Pirates were involved, don't ask.
Despite this, Benny's wife Sally (Sylvia Sanchez) wants the family to forgive her husband and come together as one family. Absolutely nothing in the film would have changed had Benny not been involved in the equation, had the siblings learned to help and support each other without the toxic source of their troubles looming over them like a fat and ugly Professor X.
Benny says he's changed, but nothing in the film seems to indicate that. He says he's sorry, but his words seem hollow. He made his bed, and now he's sleeping in it. But the film doesn't want that to happen. A reconciliation is then forced upon the family, and we are made to watch. The film even goes for the waterworks in its justification of this, but again: if Benny were not in the story, absolutely nothing would have changed.
Coming Home is full of toxic hypocrites, who feel that a family together is a good thing, even though the forgiveness needed isn't justified at all in this case. The film asks us to forgive shitty men, while handwaving away or weakly explaining the reasons behind their shittiness. And for what? The film failed to make me forgive Benny, and sometimes when I see him hollowly apologizing yet again, it's sometimes not Benny that I see, asking for forgiveness. Instead, I see the man behind the character asking for forgiveness. And to be honest, I don't think the film succeeded in that regard either.
No comments:
Post a Comment