MMFF 2023 | Penduko, Kampon, When I Met You In Tokyo, Mallari

 

Created by national artist Francisco Conching, the character of Pedro Penduko draws from a rich tapestry of Filipino folklore. Using his skills, insight and magical tools, Pedro Penduko uses his abilities to fight evil and protect the land. Perhaps Filipinos will be familiar with earlier versions of the character, such as a two movie series where Janno Gibbs played the titular hero, or the long running TV series starring Matt Evans. Either way, this film seems like an interesting way to reintroduce the character to a whole new generation of fans. But what ultimately happens to many superhero films - a long production process and script changes - seems to have happened here in some capacity, leading to a pastiche of superhero and franchise tropes that work in some parts, while faltering in others.

Penduko (Matteo Guidicelli) lives an otherwise unremarkable life in the city, using his powers to get high and scam perya employees (not necessarily in that order). Helping fellow bettors is 'collateral damage', as he usually does this for his own gain. One day, he is recruited into a secret organization of local sorcerers whose task is to ostensibly fight evil and protect the good guys.

This part of the film looks like it draws from many different sources: Harry Potter, My Hero Academia, similar school-themed anime and other media. Penduko is a bright student and he learns to excel in healing and warding off curses, which is done as fights in a separate virtual/mental space. At least in this regard, the worldbuilding works well to create an interesting milieu for our friends to play in.

But then one notices that the uniforms are military coded, and sorcerers are referred to as agents. The subtext isn't very subtle here. Penduko then finds itself under the umbrella of a different organization, one that operates 'outside' the fantasy world's 'law,' but one that, in essence, isn't as different as the organization he originally came from. The movie comments on the notion of systems and groups (meant for the common good of all) that are ultimately co-opted in the service of a few. The film also asks the moral question of how exactly do we go about extinguishing a clear and present evil: that is, if we become tainted by that evil in the process, is it worth it? Does the end truly justify the means?

That's all and good, but unfortunately, like director Jason Paul Laxamana's other forays into genre (Pwera Usog, Instalado) they serve as setup for an idea that's not completely fleshed out by the end. What happens to the organizations Penduko leaves? What about his friends? What are the repercussions of the events of the film in this world that I honestly want to explore more? This film feels like the first part of a series and is barely a self contained story. If Viva has plans to expand the series that would be fine, but if the series stops here, then that would be very unfortunate. This isn't necessarily Penduko's problem, but a problem of franchise filmmaking in general.

Matteo Guidicelli does his best in the role, but I feel he is miscast (if anything, he'd be a good fit for the character of Saki, I think). His being a half foreign actor playing a half foreign character seems to be a holdover from a past version of the script, when James Reid was still attached to the role and the character was depicted having a mixed heritage. I don't think Reid would've been an improvement over Guidicelli, though given that the premise of the film (and Penduko's heritage?) is now different, maybe someone else would be suited for the role. Heck, Alamat did a great ending song for this film, get one of them to play the part.

Penduko feels like a film from MMFF's past. It has a ton of very interesting ideas, but the ideas don't always work out.

When I was a child I always imagined having at least three children - maybe a boy and two girls. Decades later, I no longer want children - in this economy? With my pittance of an income? But relatives and friends often ask me and my wife when we're going to have children. We mostly avoid the question now as we don't want to waste time on arguments.

For Clark (Derek Ramsay) and Eileen (Beauty Gonzalez), it's the opposite - they want to have a family but they can't. Clark's impotence weighs down on him, and after many attempts at IVF, he's all but given up and the couple is considering adoption. The first half of the film builds on this tension, wrapped in mundane domesticity, as the two of them grapple with that and various other family matters.

That all changes when Jade (Erin Espiritu) comes to the home. Jade's appearance upends the family dynamic, and while Eileen dotes on the child, Clark is disturbed as he discovers that he has a connection with the child.

Kampon bears many of the hallmarks of its writer Dodo Dayao (Midnight in a Perfect World, Violator). The film finds its terror in strangeness, in weird, unsettling things lurking in the background, in things from which we derive safety ("footage horror" - that is, scary images on recorded media, on CCTV screens and elsewhere - has a steady presence in the film). The film also alludes to the terrors of parenthood, showing us the fears and anxieties of raising a child. There's one scene at a birthday party where a belligerent, spoiled child makes unreasonable demands - a scene that honestly scares me as much as any decapitated corpse (owing to my job occasionally autopsying people, I honestly prefer the corpse).

It's quite unlike anything we've ever seen in the MMFF, and it makes for a legitimately entertaining experience. There are some parts where the film's ambition outpaces its resources. For example, an animated picture of a fetus might have been better rendered in live action, and while the CGI works most of the time, sometimes it doesn't. But that's not necessarily a bad thing; if anything we need more ambition in this festival, and Kampon is brimming with it.

In a strictly formalist sense, there isn't much to say about When I Met You in Tokyo. There isn't much conflict in this movie for its two characters, played by the venerable on screen couple of Christopher De Leon and Vilma Santos. Their issues (mostly with their family members back home) are neatly resolved by the first hour mark. In addition, the film doesn't touch too much upon their lives as overseas workers - the Japanese people who work with and employ them accept them wholeheartedly (one even repeatedly gives Christopher De Leon gifts for some reason or another.)

But the film serves its intended purpose. I watched this film at the Premier Cinemas at the Shangri-la Mall. For those not in the know, cinema prices at the Premier Cinemas are pricier than this upscale mall's normal cinemas. Nevertheless, the theater was mostly full, and mostly consisted of middle aged and elderly women - including myself, I counted three men, and the other two came with what I assume are their wives. I'd even bet that I was the youngest person in the theater aside from the ushers. These are people who have probably spent most of their lives with these two actors, from Tag-ulan sa Tag-Araw (1975) to Dekada '70 (2002). 

At one point in the movie, when Azon (Santos) and Joey (De Leon) were frolicking in the snow, the woman in front of me exclaimed, "ang ganda!" She was probably referring to the snow, but probably also to the couple, who at this point had spent 90 minutes being cute together. The crowd laughed every time the two of them called each other "bru" (short for bruha/brujo), an insult that eventually became a term of endearment. They laughed at the jokes and the light ribbing, they felt kilig at the various jabs, and the thing is, it's hard not to get swept in that emotion - by the time the film ended, I was 100% with that crowd, vicariously living this screen couple's romance. Even if, as a person who reviews films, I find the film flawed or lacking, it nevertheless fills up all the places that it should.

The first half of Derick Cabrido's Mallari is a whirlwind of various scenes that at times feels too convoluted: there's the serial killer priest (Piolo Pascual) who killed 57 people in the 1800s, there's his descendant John Rey (also Piolo Pascual) who is obsessed with finding out the truth behind his infamous ancestor, and there's Jonathan (also Piolo Pascual), who is haunted by future visions where his fiancee Agnes (Janella Salvador) lies dying. The three are connected by a dark secret, but what is it? Why are people still dying in this small town in Laguna even though the killer priest has long passed on?

This first half is the weakest part of the film as it tries to set everything up. As it plods along its three central plotlines, it occasionally veers into filler that only serves to pad the runtime and does little to advance the plot. It is also plagued by frequent and honestly unnecessary jump scares as Jonathan and John Rey are haunted by various apparitions - the ghosts of their ancestor's victims.

But once everything falls into place, something wonderful emerges. Mallari is one of my favorite films in this year's festival, if only for its sprawling ambition and how it manages to meet that ambition in many parts. A mix of alternate history fiction, fantasy and horror, Mallari brings us a singular MMFF experience that has probably never been seen in any previous edition of the festival, and will be unmatched for years to come.

Aside from the various liberties to historical events, I appreciated the fact that the three main characters are not one-sidedly good or evil - in fact, even the characters that are overtly antagonistic do what they do not out of malice, but out of justice: they want to cleanse the world of evil, and this is the means that they will take to achieve that goal. Interestingly, in terms of theme, Mallari sets out to make the same point as Penduko, (the ends justifying the means, getting tainted by evil by extinguishing evil) but this time the film succeeds in doing so. Righteousness is not always good - it only means a dogged belief that one is right, regardless of whether that belief is warranted or not, or whether or not that belief springs from a good place.