Will You Be My Ex? review: Love is a Drug

 

I don't like a lot of breakup movies - it's hard to write characters in the midst of a breakup without making them look like insufferable people, and more often than not the film drags out their inevitable breakup to the point where it gets annoying. But when a movie manages to pull it off, I'm 100% on board. At least in my opinion, that's the case with Real Florido's Will You Be My Ex?.

Joey (Diego Loyzaga) is an architect with ambitions of enhancing his career. Chris (Julia Barretto) is a talented theater actress. They met and fell in love in college and have been together for a while now. It's made quite clear that the two of them are incompatible in terms of what they want from their lives and each other, and there is little to no transparency between them. They recognize this and one day, after a very tumultuous turn of events regarding a pregnancy, Chris leaves Joey and Joey leaves for a job related opportunity in Germany. During this first act, the energy between the two is tense and anxious; the camera mirrors this anxiety with its movement - from one character to another, going in and out with a tentativeness that I can't adequately describe. There's a great shot near the end of this act when the two are separated by frames within frames and Chris literally closes the door on her lover.

Three years later, the two meet again. They're currently considering other partners but the two didn't get closure during their last parting and just can't get enough of each other, their mutual attraction inevitably pushing them back toward each other and towards inevitable heartbreak.

Despite its rather "mainstream" outward appearance, Will You Be My Ex? is a story about the harmful potential of love out of control, without regard for anything else. Despite its cutesy declarations and big gestures towards the end, it is a story of how love can be addicting, leading people into making the worst decisions just to have one more moment with the people they are attracted to, but people that are a bad fit for them relationship-wise. Love is a drug, and this is a film about two addicts in perpetual rehab.

Seeing the movie in that way made me understand (but not excuse) the actions Chris and Joey take throughout the film - unable to let go of each other means getting into lots of half-hearted relationships with other people. Granted, I would have preferred it if Joey had come to this realization on his own without Chris' help, but I'll take it. 

I'm sure a lot of other people will not see eye to eye with me - perhaps they won't attach to the two protagonists as much as I did, and they'd consider the film's proclivity for rushing the proceedings near the end (especially a small but interesting side plot about the human wreckage of consolation partners Joey and Chris leave in their wake), it's quite a different approach than I'm used to from studio-backed "romantic" films, and I have to give an A for effort.

Siglo ng Kalinga review: unsung heroes

 

My family boasts a substantial number of nurses. Most work abroad, and some have even done so for decades at this point. As a medical professional myself, I view nurses as an invaluable and essential part of any healthcare team. In honor of the storied history of nurses in our country, Dr. Carl Balita (himself a nurse), with the help of the Philippine Nurses' Association, produced a feature film called Siglo ng Kalinga.

Directed by Lem Lorca (Water Lemon, among others) Siglo ng Kalinga focuses on the life and career of Anna (Joy M. Ras), a nurse with dreams of helping her family and the small coastal community she lives in. As the film goes on, however, Anna learns that things are not so simple, and in the process (rather inadvertently) the film exposes how our health care system is deeply dysfunctional.

The film is not perfect. It struggles to put things into focus, sometimes segueing into tangentially related sequences about the life and trials of Anastacia Giron-Tupas, Giron-Tupas is one of the country's most distinguished nurses and nurse leaders, but if you come into this blind, you may not be able to tell who she is, much less connect her story to the central narrative. In one sequence, the venerable nurse is met with opposition from her colleagues, but the scene lacks the context behind it, so it was challenging to figure out what was happening. To be fair, I would gladly watch a movie about her eventful life, but it seems out of place here. I personally would have preferred it if they'd stuck to one thing.

Anna's story is inspired by the real life stories of many other nurses: she spends time abroad after a career in the Philippines, she fights for her fellow nurses' rights, especially during the COVID pandemic, and she loses friends and colleagues due to the virus. There are a lot of interesting side stories (for example, the elderly nurse who returns to the COVID wards to serve her family and her country) and some not-so interesting side stories (any of the film's romantic arcs, which collectively feel unnecessary in the grand scheme of things). However, one of my favorite parts of the film happens at the very start.

During her nursing school days, Anna is sent to a seaside community (if I recall correctly, the same community where she grew up) where she and her classmates immediately identify a problem with the town's water supply, which is causing many of the residents to have gastrointestinal problems. Her group immediately goes to the mayor who dismisses her concerns, saying that there is a proper way of doing things, that the local government unit is working on (frankly unrelated) projects and that she should have gone through the proper channels. Although he kind of has a point, because he doesn't prioritize it, most probably more people get sick, Anna is told that she did the right thing but it was out of her purview, and the movie goes on. I had thought that they'd never come back to this plot thread, but Anna later returns to that community and addresses the problem, saying that nothing has changed. That's not even including the fact that the local government didn't address the vulnerability of the community to natural disasters, and that led to even more people dying, including people close to Anna.

It may not be intentional, but it does show that the scriptwriters were aware of how bad our public healthcare system is. For public health problems to play second fiddle to political concerns works to the detriment of everyone in that community, because they can legitimately affect the quality of life of every person living there. The film shows us what eventually happens in real life. It's a pragmatic way of looking at things and although sometimes I'd rather have it be idealistic, it's an interesting approach and one that I consider to be a highlight of the film.

The film ends with an abstract sequence that I initially found to be quite bizarre, but one that I eventually warmed up to due to its abstraction. It's a celebration of all the lives that came before and all the lives that were lost, a visual representation of the human sacrifices our nurses make for the sake of their families and countrymen.

The Revelation Review: nice concept, bad execution

 

The mysterious disappearance of Jake Petersen rattles police officer Vincent (Vin Abrenica.) After all, the two had been close in their childhood; Vincent's mother worked as a tutor for Jake and the two were kind of like brothers in a sense.

Two years have passed and the case remains unsolved. This time, Vincent is investigating a spate of deaths involving GROs (that's club girls or hostesses to non-Filipino viewers.) In alternating sequences, we see who is responsible for these heinous crimes: Lance (Aljur Abrenica,) a man who stalks and captures these women almost at will. While Vincent slowly sets his sights on Lance, it becomes quite clear that something bonds the two together and Lance may have something to do with the mysterious disappearance of Jake Petersen...

On paper, Ray An Dulay's The Revelation sounds like an interesting concept. Serial killer stories are uncommon in Philippine cinema, partially because we don't see a lot of serial killers in real life. Lance's backstory is particularly well fleshed out: he has a pair of very dysfunctional parents and the method of his crimes follow a pattern that feels logically consistent with his own dysfunctions. He has his reasons as to why he kills the people he kills.

The problem with The Revelation, unfortunately, is almost everything else. For one, the film is badly edited. Establishing shots intrude upon several scenes, popping up in the weirdest of places. During a sex scene, the film inexplicably cuts to a shot of two birds. During a conversation, the scene cuts to various exterior drone shots of the place without rhyme or reason. Two separate chase scenes cut to what looks like the same shot of Vin Abrenica saying "nasaan ka na?" in a distressed tone. The editing felt like it was done by a bunch of amateurs.

For a police procedural, no thought seems to be given to how investigations actually work. One of the first scenes in such a procedural should be a rundown of all the victims and their manner of death, to establish the number of victims and manner of crimes committed. That type of scene happens near the middle of the film, right after Lance kills another person, making it seem repetitive. Not only that, but Vincent is in this scene and looks over the evidence and the dead bodies half naked. Why? Vincent's right hand man, Alex (Jelai Andres) goes undercover to keep tabs on Lance and on their very first date she blurts out that she is an NBI agent. And for some reason, it works! It's the stupidest (and apparently most effective) spycraft I've ever seen in a contemporary film.

The Revelation is a baffling film, one that I wouldn't recommend. It looks great on paper but the people behind it have botched nearly everything else.

A Tricycle Driver Movie Review

 

One of the most prominent rotations of a medical intern is community medicine. In that rotation, students are sent to communities (sometimes remote, sometimes very far flung) in order to learn about the various ins and outs of the medical needs and public health concerns of the people living there. Of course, that didn't stop a few classmates and co-interns from spending a couple of nights drinking and having fun, especially towards the end of the rotation, but that's beside the point.

As the only two men in our block, my co-intern and I were both assigned to the farthest, most remote barangay, a small village with a population of a few dozen. next to a mountain. We took our shits in a makeshift outhouse, and we had to prepare water in advance if we had to go. (Because it's pitch black at night, we rarely went out after 7pm). Our one and only method of travel from the barangay to the rest of the municipality was by a 40 minute tricycle ride as walking was not a good idea unless you had a lot of time. Once or twice a week, we'd take the latter and meet up with friends or attend one of the required meetings with our advisers.

What I mean from that extended preamble is: tricycles are a fundamentally important part of transport in our country, specially in the Philippines, whether in rural or urban settings. Yet movies about them are exceedingly rare - I cannot recall one shown in the past decade, while even pedicab drivers had their own short film: Arvin Belarmino's (Tarang (2020))! In other countries, films about the workers who operate cheap public transportation are often framed as working class heroes or everymen fighting against societal conditions brought about by their class: India, in particular, has several films about rickshaw drivers, including the classic 1995 mass film Baasha, and one of my favorite films is Ajantrik (1958) about a talking taxi and the driver that loves it; Japan has films like Hiroshi Imagaki's The Life of Matsu the Untamed (1943); one of the main characters in Tony Bui's ode to contemporary Vietnam Three Seasons (1999) is a cyclo driver; China has Ling Zifeng's film adaptation of Rickshaw Boy (1982); and that's not counting endless documentaries showcasing such transport workers from Egypt to Thailand to everywhere in the world.

Tricycle Driver: Kasangga Mo now joins that pantheon, for better or worse. Directed in tandem (ha!) by Karlo Montero and Samuel Ibarra, the film is about a group of tricycle drivers doing tricycle driver stuff, and by tricycle driver stuff, I mean driving a makeshift ambulance, becoming stooges of the state apparatus, getting into firefights with illegal crime syndicates and helping stop a demonic possession. You know, just normal things tricycle drivers do. But ultimately it's not a film about tricycle drivers - it's about other working class people that aren't tricycle drivers. Confused? I bet. Read on and I'll explain.

The film is produced by Angel Film productions, whose opening logo is so shoddy that not only does it look like it was made 20 years ago, it also (most likely illegally) uses the last few seconds of the end credit music of STAR TREK FIRST CONTACT!

NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE EARS OF THE MOST HARDCORE STAR TREK FAN IN THIS COUNTRY. NEVER.

The film begins with Samuel "Sammy" Romero (Vin Abrenica) coming home from his work as a stuntman. Showbiz doesn't have a lot of work for him so he decides to go back to his wife and kid. Along the way, he is stopped by a bunch of would be robbers and he disposes of them by getting into a fistfight (mind you that the robbers are armed with at least one gun.) He wins because of course he does, and in the process confiscates the robbers' gun. Perhaps inspired (?) by these events, he decides to join his sister Rose Ann (Rose Ann Ibarra) and go back to his previous job as a tricycle driver. The next few scenes are about Sammy navigating local bureaucracy to regain the tricycle license that he had in 2013 and his sister getting scammed by someone who offered her a package in exchange for fare money.

People who've seen (or rather, heard) this movie will no doubt notice that the sound in this film is horrendous. The characters are dubbed worse than a Hong Kong English dub in the 1980's, with a sound quality on par with something recorded off Baby's First Microphone:

of course, that's actually a thing

In an out of left field sequence, Sammy's dad (Rogelio Yadao) comes home. He'd left the household for how many years because he cheated on his wife, and now he's back for some reason. Although the film doesn't tell us here in this scene, he's actually a cop. Sammy's dad talks with his family in a very emotional scene, and by "emotional" I mean having the emotional range of a loaf of bread. The actors seem to be emoting, but the dub delivers the dialogue like they were reading aloud a research paper on the multivariate quadratic challenges toward post-quantum generation cryptography. The dad is forgiven by the family (quite quickly, I may add) though he doesn't show up again until near the end of the film - his appearance is literally an afterthought, as if the writer wrote the film in reverse. 

I'd like to segue a little bit and discuss where and when this movie takes place. Based on the presidential picture and several campaign posters still posted to several homes, we can deduce that this was filmed sometime last year, near to or after the 2022 elections in May. In several establishing shots in the film "Davao City Hall" is seen in one of the buildings (at least, as clear as you can see as it looks like it's shot in 240p). The film has a mayor character and a governor character, which points to a provincial setting. HOWEVER, other incidental shots of the film are obviously in Quezon City, and I don't even have to look - "Quezon City" is clearly displayed in front of every tricycle in the film! Not to mention we can clearly see various political posters for local candidates for Quezon City positions! It goes without saying that the film is hilariously inept, but you've probably figured that out anyway.

Look at the writing on the tricycle. I'm just gonna call it Quevao City from now on

In this "Davao City Hall", the vice mayor is shown talking to a bunch of people played by "actors" who they probably just yoinked off the street. The vice mayor, in an effort to fight against rising crime rates, decides to recruit tricycle drivers and use them as police assets! There's a certain kind of twisted logic to his reasoning here: as tricycle drivers are exposed to all manners of people, they will likely be witness to any number of potentially criminal activities, and if they're used by the police, they can narc on their fellow citizens. This motion passes without protest from the rest of the staff, because fuck that. Meanwhile, Sammy and Rose Ann are then shown going on tricycle related escapades, such as delivering a baby. Yes, tricycle drivers are midwives now for some reason. Also, Sammy's fellow tricycle driver Aryong (Pekto) gets really drunk (it looks like they shot the scene at night) and goes out with his (equally drunk) friend in a tricycle with scenes clearly shot DURING THE DAY and crash on an electrical pole. I suppose their drunk tricycle driving caused them to travel near the speed of light, doing time dilation stuff and making them crash 12 hours later.

What comes next is a sequence where an old guy (Bobby Henson) visits the barangay captain's office. It's not entirely clear who he actually is (former cop? former gangster? is there a difference anymore?) but the people refer to him as "FPJ." He looks like an FPJ cosplayer, but other than his body language and costume he doesn't look anything like the guy. To be fair, his credits go all the way back to the eighties, with a lot of his 90s and 2000s roles being an FPJ stand-in. His only relevance in this movie is a subsequent scene of him geriatrically beating up a pair of extortionists like an emaciated, diseased Rocky Balboa.

Aryong makes up for his earlier drunken shenanigans (surprising that he wasn't arrested for it lol) by helping out a man who passed out while driving. He brings the man onto his tricycle and brings him to the hospital. Later on, the man's wife calls Aryong and thanks him for his help. She and the revived husband give him a hefty sum of money to do as he pleases. And what does he do with that moolah? Does he construct a new house? Fund a sari-sari store? Nope! He turns his tricycle into a double decker - the same double decker that you see in this film's poster. People line up to take a ride in it so I guess he made the right choice.

okay, it does look pretty cool

What happens next is one of my favorite moments of the film. Aryong's sister (I think?) is shown to be flailing around like a mad person, and that's apparently because she's being possessed by a demon. While Aryong holds her in place, the other people in the house call an Albularyo, who exorcizes the demon from her body. Is this relevant to anything else in the movie? No. Is the demonic possession ever brought up again? No. I guess tricycle drivers help stop demonic possession now, or maybe Satan and his demonic hordes saw what the movie was about and decided to drop the film like a hot potato. When both God and Satan have abandoned your film, you know some real shit's going on.

In one of the film's last "filler arcs" before we go to the meat of the story, we get another unrelated sequence where one tricycle driver returns a bag of lost cash and is accused of keeping the money for himself... while' he's in the barangay captain's office... just as he's giving the bag to the captain for safekeeping?? The funny part is, when all is resolved and the lady who lost her money apologizes for her accusations, she kinda starts flirting with the driver lol.

After an hour of the most random shit ever, we finally get to the main course. While his fellow tricycle drivers were delivering babies and bringing people to the hospital and holding their relative while they're being possessed by a demon, Sammy gets into a lot of fights. For some reason, being a former stuntman is attracting the local toughs like mosquitoes to the color blue. One of the goons who fights Sammy is a huge guy and he throws the poor ex-stuntman around. I guess random fights are part of the hazards of working as a tricycle driver. While Sammy does make up with that giant dude, Sammy gets into another fight with an older tricycle driver who I've never seen before. This guy pulls out a knife and apparently that's a no-no because all of Sammy's colleagues rush in to help him and give him a beating. The police arrive and arrest everyone for making a scene. I guess without half of its tricycle force, Quevao City citizens are going to have to make do with other sources of transportation.

Various people talk with the mayor about this incident. Since no complaints were filed, the majority of the tricycle drivers are free to go... except the older tricycle driver who picked a fight with Sammy. As it turns out, that guy is WANTED FOR KILLING TWO PEOPLE. So after a short musical montage where our tricycle drivers are hobnobbing with non-tricycle driver detainees, they are let go, except for double murder guy (his name is Montecristo).

This is Montecristo. I bet if you entered "Philippine Cinema 90's Criminal Goon" in an AI it would look something like this guy

Sammy's not been at home for at least a couple days because of his incarceration. and apparently news of his imprisonment hasn't reached his family members. He arrives to find his wife sleeping, and I guess to emphasize potential sexytime (and solidarity with Ukraine??), the filmmakers tint the whole frame blue, then yellow. Sammy's wife wakes up and is angry at her husband, accusing him of being unfaithful. Sammy truthfully says that he's been imprisoned, but wifey isn't having it. To prove his innocence, Sammy asks his wife to... smell his shirt?? Dude, in the first place, why would you want to do sexytime when you've been in prison for at least two days? Taka a bath first, you neanderthal! The "characterization" of most of the women in this film is pretty telling - wives who are tied to their spouses and forgive their husbands' indiscretions way too easily, paranoiacs, or the vessels of demonic possession. The only woman in the film who is in any way independent is Rose Ann, who is portrayed as a tomboy.

here's an example of that yellow tint I was talking about

The two make up off screen while various other things go on in the background:  the vice mayor continues to gain political power, visiting the tricycle drivers who were just freed. Aryong is involved in a pretty tasteless trans joke that would've been funny NEVER, tricycle driver police assets help bust what looks like a drug syndicate, and in a not-really unsurprising sequence, Montecristo and a dozen other criminals are broken out of prison by heretofore-unknown individuals. 

We soon learn who is responsible for the jailbreak: the soon-to-be (?) governor of wherever this place is -  a balding crime boss named Don Pepe (Bing Davao) and his stable of goons straight out of the nineties. Although it's implied he's dipped his toes into many different things (presumably including the drug thingy that tricycle drivers helped bring down) he's mostly concerned with illegal gambling operations, running an illegal casino out of someone's garage. As an aside, I found it pretty hilarious to have people all dressed up gambling in this place like it's some swanky joint from James Bond when it's literally just someone's garage. The police raid the establishment and one of the crime boss' lieutenants manages to escape. Don Pepe isn't too pleased and takes it up with the mayor. Apparently the two signed a covenant way back: Don pepe gets to do whatever he wants but mostly under the radar, while the mayor enjoys a (relatively) crime-controlled city. The attack on the casino is a violation of that covenant, so Don pepe begins to move against the mayor, though as we will see as the film nears its end, he doesn't think things all the way through.

Firstly, he removes the biggest threat to his grand schemes. Is it the police chief? The local military, maybe? NOPE! He springs a trap for all of the tricycle drivers under the guise of an award ceremony and imprisons them (sans Sammy) in his mansion. He then kidnaps the mayor (??) and tries to bribe him with 5 million pesos... but why kidnap him though? All that would do is put a giant target on the crime boss' head, because he's the only one with such a motive! While all of this is happening, Sammy's dad dies in a police operation and Sammy mourns his death via a montage of all the times we've seen the guy... which consists mostly of the guy getting shot by criminals lol.

basically this for 30 seconds lol

The police raid Don Pepe' house with a strike force that includes Sammy, who goes into the house dressed in police attire and armed with a gun and a baseball bat. Aside from all the other things tricycle drivers can do, apparently they can also get into firefights with criminals. Don Pepe is defeated, other tricycle drivers are freed, all is good. For reference, this shootout sequence was shot in Bocaue Bulacan, so we got establishing shots in Davao, shots for other sequences in QC, then this shootout scene in Bulacan. Talk about location shooting.

in case you think I'm lying, here's Vin Abrenica, tricycle driver, dressed in police attire with a baseball bat

The vice mayor then confronts the mayor about the covenant, telling him that he'll do everything to bring him down or something to that effect. Does the mayor get any repercussions for this? Does the vice mayor recruit the tricycle drivers to participate in a special recon operation to suss out the mayor's other criminal activities? Nope again! In the very next scene, we see police chief, Sammy and (if I recall correctly) the fucking mayor, LITERALLY THE GUY PARTIALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS IN THE FIRST PLACE being awarded a medal for... defeating the crime boss, I guess? The vice mayor is somewhere in there, but he doesn't say a goddamn word. I'd start pulling my hair out at this point but I was afraid I'd go bald.

The man who gives the award to these people is the ACTUAL governor of this place, played by none other than Karlo Montero (his nameplate here is Karlo M. Conge) in a cameo, almost like he's rewarding himself for doing such a good job. The mind boggles. After a few more unfunny jokes, the film ends. The hilarity doesn't end there as the credits are just as inept - for example, the credit for "script continuity" is spelled as "contenuity" because these boobs can't even get that right.

If the structure of the film feels similar to you - working class dudes doing outlandish things, eventually ending in a firefight and getting awards for their random shenanigans - you're on to something, because these are the same people that made Security Academy. And much like that film, this isn't really about tricycle drivers or security guards - it's about stuntmen and other film workers left by the wayside as Philippine cinema moved away from certain genres. This film was based on a true story and I wouldn't be surprised - Sammy the stuntman might be Sammy Ibarra, the other director of this film. If you look at the credits of the people who worked on this film, a lot of them go waaaaay back: Bing Davao, who played Don Pepe, has credits going all the way back to 1979 - the man's worked with everyone from Vilma to Dolphy; Domingo Zafe, who composed what little music this film had, has composed for films since at least 1980, for people like Carlo J. Caparas; a lot of the older folks are bit players who've acted in various, mostly tough guy roles since the eighties and nineties.

For many years, these people served as the backbone of a prolific industry. But times and tastes change, and the genres they worked in slowly gave way to more budget friendly genres. When FPJ died, the genre he was best known for likely drew its last breaths, and with it followed all of the other workers who supported that industry within an industry. The desire to reach out, to become something more than one's self (or at least, what the industry perceives them to be) finds itself in these two films: ordinary people becoming rich, becoming heroes, becoming the main character in the story of their lives - people who can deliver children without a medical or midwife license, get into firefights without a police badge or help exorcize demons without the blessing of some mountain spirit.

That's probably why one of the directors' responses to a "review" of his film felt so angry - films like this are his attempt to fight back an existential threat. Though undoubtedly inexperienced and technically inept in the art of filmmaking, I see films like this as an earnest, if misguided attempt to reclaim what once was. At the very least, I understand the motivations behind the creation of the film.

On the other hand, the implications of his statement in that response - that ridiculing films like his will cause international (specifically Hollywood) productions to completely eliminate Filipino cinema - are a reach. The threat of competition from other countries' films is not an excuse to watch a bad local film. Yeah it sucks, but them's the breaks - in the Darwinist system we're currently in, local films are at a disadvantage. All sorts of mediocrity or outright garbage - unless there's something there to appeal to some audience - will inevitably be ignored. Sadly, that means some real gems get caught in the crossfire too. I don't know if there's a solution to that other than outright stubbornness, so points for trying I guess. Thanks for reading.

Summer MMFF 2023 Festival Report - Short Reviews of all Eight Films

 This was supposed to be released a week earlier, but I got COVID lol. Enjoy

Compared to his earlier Anino sa Likod ng Buwan (2015) there's something almost uncomfortably autobiographical in Jun Lana's latest feature, About Us But Not About Us - in fact, the title also evokes the many ways art reflects real life and vice versa. Presented as a taut, tense two-hander, the film follows a conversation between Lance (Elijah Canlas) and Eric (Romnick Sarmenta) as they discuss their respective circumstances. Soon the conversation drifts toward the subject of Marcus (played both by Canlas and Sarmenta in turns), an accomplished writer (and Eric's long term partner) who recently committed suicide. As the film goes on, both reveal things regarding themselves and the suspicious circumstances behind Marcus' death, even casting doubt as to whether the conversation is real or it merely exists entirely in one's mind. The film is elevated by top notch performances from both, especially during their transition into Marcus. It's interesting to see how each actor portrays (whether differently or not) their own interpretation of the character.

Segueing into discussions of the local literary community and how insular and hubristic some of its sub-communities can be, the film veers into an interrogation of the responsibility of LGBTQ artists in portraying their own community. Does the film ask if there is a discrepancy between what is perceived as representation of the community in larger vs. personal scales? This is a relevant topic for Lana, who, along with a few other collaborators, have made a bunch of films that have portrayed LGBTQ characters in both positive and negative ways. The question of representation is not one I am equipped to answer, nor do I think I have the right to do so, but the film could have been; unfortunately the film is indecisive in this regard. 

It's clear that the construction of the film is very personal to Lana, and aside from the topics discussed in the previous paragraph, the film also centers on the relationship of art and pain, how one molds and shapes the other, transforming that pain into something remarkable. At what cost?

***

Pain is shaped into art, yes, though it also provides an escape for that same pain, or perhaps an anchor to root one in spite of pain. In Bela Padilla's sophomore directorial effort, Yung Libro sa Napanuod Ko, a young K-drama fan (Padilla) is inspired by a book from one of the dramas she watched, and decides to write her own. During a book signing, she is approached by Gun-hoo (Yoo Min-gon) who she takes a curious liking to. Without rhyme or reason, she agrees to let him join her to South Korea to see all the places she's seen in her favorite dramas.

A clever little twist underlines Yung Libro sa Napanuod Ko, one that genre savvy viewers will no doubt figure out quickly. Padilla, who has extensive experience in romantic cinema, eases into her role quite nicely here, while Yoo Min-gon, who has had only minor roles prior to this, is just as capable. That said, I personally had a little trouble latching on to the couple as their initial meeting is a bit weird, as if the story was written in reverse and the film was working back to an ending that already exists.

It's also curious how the film exists in such close proximity to Ultimate Oppa (2022), another Philippine-South Korean co production with similar main characters, both partially obsessed with the popular culture of another country, and Shuming He's Ajoomma (2022), whose titular protagonist is transformed from her road trip-like interactions in South Korea on her way towards a post-midlife crisis existence. South Korea (or in particular, South Korean culture) becomes both a catalyst towards personal transformation and a sanctuary for those who seek to avoid it - which in terms of tourist films kinda hits the target. Overall the film is decent, though it feels formless to me as a romantic film.

***

Before we proceed: the next film in this report features minor roles from two people with a history of sexual misconduct. It's reasonable to assume that the production of this film took place before these allegations came to light and it was too late to change things. If that's still a dealbreaker to you, it's perfectly okay to skip this part.

As it starts, JP Habac's Love You Long Time exists in a sort of thematic irony: its first half has a young creative struggling to get her creative say, in a film that (at first) closely clings to the aesthetic hugotcore template that's been a staple of contemporary local cinema for the past decade. But as the film progresses, it plays with the form in such refreshing ways that it ended up being one of the most interesting films of the festival.

Its initial conceit follows two young people - Uly (Carlo Aquino) and Ikay (Eisel Serrano) as they come to know each other via a pair of two way radios. There is a catch, however, and it takes them a bit to figure it out: they both exist in different time periods, a cute little riff on movies such as Il Mare (1998) and the inferior The Lake House (2006). During this first part, the two converse using the radios, often occupying nearby spaces but never overlapping each other. Habac and DP Kara Moreno (Lucid, Edward, among others) films the two in such a way that they are made to "exist" in a single frame, a technique that's been explored before in Habac's earlier Dito at Doon (2021) and, of all things, in the dual intersecting frames of films like Gaspar Noe's Vortex (2021). The spaces in which Uly and Ikay exist form a complete picture, albeit one that is imperfectly stitched together, not quite lining up exactly. In a way, visually this follows from the concepts of Dito at Doon, these images evoking nostalgia for a time that either no longer exists or hasn't existed yet. At one point Uly is alarmed at Ikay's warning of an upcoming pandemic, and expresses dismay at the lack of change that has happened since then.

That's all and good, but then the third act of the film throws us a curveball that upends everything that has happened before, and this is where the film leans into its self reflexivity: the proceedings thus far only exist in Ikay's art (whether it did happen as shown in the film or not is left to our imagination), created to provide a sort of cathartic release, a sense of nostalgia not for something that no longer exists, but for the possibility of something that may never come. It's a bit of a downer but it's done well, and Aquino and Serrano have the acting chops to pull it off.

***

It's been said that one of the most potent ways to understand someone else is to live in their shoes. In the 2010 film Here Comes the Bride, Chris Martinez uses that conceit to swap the bodies of several people, enabling them to see how others experience the world around them in terms of class, sexuality and personal beliefs. It is also extremely funny. Thirteen years later, Martinez would reuse the same conceit to explore issues of gender identity and societal reactions to that with Here Comes the Groom, a spiritual sequel that operates on the same formula. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

This time, two "families" get switched during a trip to Magnetic Hill in Los Banos, Laguna. One family is traditionally conservative, with a homophobic dad (Keempee De Leon), his wife (Gladys Reyes,) an extremely devout daughter (Maris Racal) and a straight-laced (pardon the pun lol) son (Enchong Dee). On the other is a mama-san (Iyah Mina) and her stable of drag queens (Xilhouete, Awra Briguela, Kaladkaren and Nico Manalo).

Aside from the humor, half of the enjoyment factor of watching the film is from seeing these talented actors act as their switched counterparts, often against type. The switching serves as a storytelling device that works both ways: the conservative family sees how their counterparts are treated in society, while the drag queens either finally get what they've been dreaming of, or in one case, revert into something they've been distancing themselves from. These perceived differences span not only that of gender identity but also intersect with class - while the traditional family is well to do and has ample opportunities to be able to stage an expensive-looking wedding in the first place, the Queens have to go from place to place just to earn a living, denied of the same economic opportunities.

The film's shortcomings arise from the way it develops its characters in order to make the ending succeed, development that is mostly swept aside to fit a short montage sequence. The sequence, had it been stretched out, would have extended the film by a good deal (and such a time skip was also present in the original film), but it would have constituted the narrative legwork to make some of this character development work. For example, Keempee's character changes very little from the start of the switch, and the film acknowledges that one or two short interactions may sometimes be inadequate to create true empathy and understanding. But by the end of the sequence, it seems that very little has changed regardless of that montage sequence (though that can be chalked up to the film's insistence on comedy).

While entertaining in itself, there are a few missed opportunities in Here Comes the Groom, opportunities that could have made a decent film great.

***

Speaking of missed opportunities, no film embodies this unfortunate spirit like Joven Tan's Kahit Maputi na Ang Buhok Ko, a musical autobiographical film about the life of celebrated singer-songwriter Rey Valera. Just reading the man's Wikipedia page is fascinating in itself: it's a rich life full of interesting stories to tell. Tan himself is perhaps better known in some circles as a songwriter (having written songs for Ogie Alcasid and Ai Ai delas Alas, among others), so he knows the ins and outs of the music industry; on paper he should be a great pick for such an autobiographical film.

The problems make themselves apparent from the very start: Tan uses the same documentary structure as his earlier Yorme: The Isko Domagoso Story (2022), where the subject of the documentary relates a short anecdote, followed by a loosely connected vignette (and sometimes, a song.) While relatively standard, rote even, the story choices behind these vignettes are often baffling - they feel so disconnected that watching the film feels like going to a cheap karaoke place, queueing a bunch of Rey Valera songs and watching that. The film has a noticeable lack of craft: in one sequence, there is a shot of the child Valera and his stepdad leaving their house. Without any preamble, the movie cuts to his mother's wake. This is a movie that's forgotten what movies look like. 

The most disappointing story choices lie in how Tan chooses what scenes go with what songs. In one sequence set to Valera's Maging Sino Ka Man, the accompanying vignette is about a man falling in love with a woman with a shady past (Rosanna Roces), a vignette that while technically appropriate, has absolutely no relation to Valera's story. Not five minutes later, the film cuts to a part where Valera tells the story of how his wife married him even if he didn't have a high opinion of himself - exactly the kind of segment that would've been perfect with Maging Sino Ka Man!

Valera's greatest collaborative works were made with or for Sharon Cuneta, and in the film she gets only a handful of songs with him (which if I remember correctly was either Mr. DJ or Kahit Wala Ka Na). Where are the anecdotes here? Why was there no attention given to their professional relationship? Where are the stories about the intersection of the movie and music industries in the eighties and nineties? Why are we instead getting unrelated vignettes about a couple of random people the fictional Valera runs across in a cemetery!? Am I the only one who is pissed off about this? The film also kinda skirts the time when someone impersonated Valera and damaged his personal reputation; we only get one scene where he's berating the impostor, now in jail. This is the perfect place to insert a little drama and the film doesn't dwell on that too much at all.

All in all the film seems to have been done haphazardly, with little to no thought in its construction. Perhaps a number of budgeting or production issues came into play here. Even the size of Valera's nose mole varies from scene to scene, often looking like a giant booger that RK Bagatsing consistently neglects to pick. 

I write about my disappointment in this film not from a place of malice, but from frustration, as a fan of Valera and his work. I'm rarely harsh on local films these days, but I can say this film is an utter and total failure. Of all the films in this fest, this is the one with the most promise, and this is also the one where all that promise is squandered by utterly stupid decisions.

***

If there's anything in the Summer MMFF 2023 bingo card that I didn't expect, it's "Brillante Mendoza Food Porn." Apag is lush with shots of local Pampanga delicacies, and shots of people making these delicacies - cooking them, preparing them, all with the loving attention of a Studio Ghibli film. And it's an appropriate thing to do as thematically, food is at the center of this film: most of the sequences of note occur in or around a dinner table - where people negotiate and barter for their lives, where they forgive and forget. It ties back to the transactional nature of Filipino social interactions as seen in his earlier Ma' Rosa (2016).

The film follows Rafael (Coco Martin, their first collab since 2012's Captive), the scion of a wealthy Pampanga family. One day, he gets into an accident that takes the life of a man. Wracked with guilt, he tries to use his influence and money to make amends, but short of confessing the crime, it's not enough. His father takes the fall for the crime and over the years, Rafael's family bonds with the family of the victim. This is not an implausible situation, as I myself have seen families with similar grievances dine together in real life, and it's a situation that feels particularly Filipino.

What sets Apag back is its choice to omit large swaths of its story, so much so that some audiences were left scratching their heads in confusion when they saw the film in theaters. At times the film feels less than a structured narrative and more like a fugue of vaguely interconnected character moments. If this was intentional, then this is one of the more uniquely abstract entries in the festival. This not an appeal to spoonfeed, but the film skips over things that feel important: suddenly the two families are bonding together when previously we last saw them in opposite sides of a courtroom. One character (Mercedes Cabral) is a complete enigma, and even as the end credits roll her motivations are unclear.

It's not necessarily a bad thing. Ultimately the film functions more as a loosely constructed mood piece than what I was expecting. And still, it's better than some of Mendoza's contemporary output.

***

One subgenre of romantic film that's been popping up again recently is the tourist film, where two people meet in a exotic place and sparks fly. Contemporary filmmakers have made the tourist film their own, for better or worse, at times neglecting the romance part in favor of the tourist part. RC Delos Reyes hasn't made a tourist film until Unravel: A Swiss Side Love Story, and at least for this year their rather prolific output has been hit or miss. In this case, Unravel focuses more on the romance (or rather, the compulsion to romanticize) rather than the tourist stuff, and this time around, it's to the film's detriment.

Lucy (Kylie Padilla) looks like the epitome of a successful businesswoman, but ongoing personal struggles have broken her. Her husband is abusive and is in the process of taking away her only child from her. Despondent, she heads for Switzerland in an act of suicide tourism, hoping to avail of several euthanasia options and end her life. While there, she meets Noah (Gerald Anderson), an expat who previously helped run a euthanasia clinic, and the two strike up an unlikely relationship.

The central "message" of Unravel is that depression takes many forms, and in ways that one might not expect. While it's a good message, it does so in the most clumsy, superficial way possible. While it portrays depression as something that can happen to seemingly happy or successful people, it doesn't explore the reasons or the struggle itself in depth. The death of one of the characters is treated more as a gotcha moment instead of an opportunity to examine the struggle itself. In fact, even Lucy's own depression and struggles feel like plot points that magically disappear after a certain death, as if that death, that separate personal struggle, was just a plot point for her to get better. Like I said before, the film tends to lean more on the romance even if it isn't appropriate in all situations. 

The film equally does not fully explore the nuances of suicide in Switzerland: although technically young and healthy individuals can avail of the act, the screening process is very stringent and based on legal precedent it's unlikely someone like Lucy would have been allowed to proceed with the act.

Unravel is a strange beast, often juxtaposing scenes of emotional disarray with scenes of its two protagonists frolicking across Swiss landscapes like it's a cutesy romcom. While I assume it has the best of intentions, it comes off as insensitive at best and downright cruel at worst.

***

There's a scene in the middle of Fifth Solomon's Single Bells where Rose Ann (Alex Gonzaga) is in the front of a jeepney. Various passengers give her money to give to the driver in front, which is customary and even expected when riding a jeep. The various passengers give various, mostly innocuous or slightly joking remarks and Rose Ann is somehow extremely annoyed at this, as if she's doing everyone in the jeepney a favor. She lashes out at them, which strikes me as completely unwarranted. I'm sure the younger Gonzaga has her fans, but... I dunno, man. She just gives off this vibe that always struck me as weird, as if all the unpleasant and miserable characters she's played over the years is just her playing herself.

That's not to disparage the whole subgenre of unlikeable, miserable characters headlining films - the recent Academy Award nominee Tár is evidence that you can have a great movie with what is essentially a villain at the forefront. But there are fundamental differences between one and the other - in their tone, in the way that they are portrayed. But to be fair, Gonzaga's not all that the film is about, and I digress.

On paper, Single Bells' premise is quite wholesome - two people explore relationships and singlehood, the end conclusion being that one's relationship status isn't as relevant as how happy you are with your life right now. Rose Ann (and her friend Rose Mae, played by Angeline Quinto) have their own reasons for wanting or not wanting to be in a relationship, and they come to their own different conclusions depending on their life situations. For once, it's refreshing to see a movie whose central message is NOT how crucially important it is to have a boyfriend.

The problem lies in the film's habit of undermining that message throughout the film. For example, in the first meeting we see of the titular Single Bells (a group of like minded single people who say they don't need a relationship) the film keeps on making masturbation jokes with each member proudly showing off their sex toys. That in itself isn't a bad thing, but the way it's shown makes it look like the film is laughing at its concept rather than laughing with it. A lot of other jokes just come off as really crass - Rose Mae works hard to make a product presentation in a limited time but is hindered by her boyfriend constantly seeking attention from her. She ends up going for the lowest common denominator, which is to market her product via a series of increasingly raunchy innuendos.

The film made me think of what ifs. To be fair, these hypotheticals don't really impact the film but I'll leave it here to show how I thought about the film during and after I watched it. Rose Ann is her miserable self because she was left at the altar, but that's because of a gross lack of transparency, and there's no indication that it wouldn't happen again if they got back together. Rose Mae makes a decision between a toxic, clingy boyfriend and her job, but then again a supportive boyfriend would've supported her with her job. I guess that's not the point the film was trying to make.

Single Bells is not the worst film in the festival, not by a long shot. If one was to get over its unlikeable lead and its general tone, I don't see why audiences can't enjoy it.

March/April Digest: Walang KaParis, Baby Boy Baby Girl, Working Boys 2

 

The act of empathy is a crucial part of loving and being loved, in that our closeness to another person is enhanced by trying to see and understand the world in that other person's shoes. That act of perception is a big part of fiction in general. In her body of work, Sigrid Bernardo has often explored this concept in different ways: in Untrue (2019), all the film's narrators are unreliable, each point of view unveiling small pieces of a bigger picture; in Mr. and Mrs. Cruz (2018), two people empathize and heal over their shared heartbreak; in the charming yet flawed Kita Kita (2017) the act of (not) seeing is expressed in both literal and figurative ways. Her latest film, Walang Kaparis, draws many parallels to Kita Kita, improving upon that formula in many respects.

Jojo (Empoy Marquez) works as a mime and painter in the streets of Paris. He's haunted by the face of a woman in one of his pictures - a face he can't quite remember. One day, he comes across Marie (Alessandra De Rossi), who looks exactly like the woman in the picture. Marie takes to Jojo like they've been together for a long time, while to Jojo, this is the first time they've met. The film is generous with its clues, and even partially astute or genre savvy viewers will be able to figure it out - but that's beside the point. As Jojo (and by extension, the audience) learns more about the nature of his relationship with Marie, he regains the perspective that he lacks, eventually seeing circumstances from Marie's point of view.

Most of the enjoyment of Walang Kaparis stems from the unlikely chemistry from both leads - the same chemistry that contributed to Kita Kita's runaway success with audiences. If you are not excited at the prospect of hearing Empoy and Alex shoot the shit for almost two hours, this film will do nothing for you. But if what I described is totally your jam, then you're in for a treat: this is both a 'greatest hits' collection and an evolution of themes that Bernardo has been exploring throughout her filmmaking career.

Of Jason Paul Laxamana's pandemic body of work, some of his films explore the transactional nature of some human relationships, to varying results. His previous Expensive Candy (2022) took a look at sex work and the parasocial relationships that arise from them. In Baby Boy, Baby Girl, the film explores the practice of sugar dating, where wealthier clients give expensive gifts to their partners in exchange for companionship.

Josie (Kylie Versoza) has tried to make it with a startup business but things just isn't clicking. She then turns to her ex boyfriend Seb (Marco Gumabao) who has made a living being a sugar baby to a number of people. He's joined by a band of other sugar babies, who flaunt the products of their (mostly) transactional relationships: the more fancy the gift, the better. As Josie learns the ropes and gets used to relationships without all the extraneous stuff, she finds she's pretty good at it.

The thing is, something is lost without all that "extraneous stuff" in the way. According to the film, relationships built on sugar dating either don't last - in which case the sugar parent moves on to another - or they evolve into something more, in which case the transactional nature of the relationship (at least, the financial part) disappears. There's an interesting scene in the latter half of the film where Josie and Seb hook up and every step of their lovemaking is treated as a transaction, though this is just an excuse for the fact that they are both still pretty much into each other and they'd eventually have hooked up anyway.

The somewhat risque ("adult?") romantic comedy with respect to contemporary local cinema is something kind of different, but altogether the same: it's the same old formula but with most of the cutesy fluff removed. I'm not ashamed to say I don't mind more of these being made.

The original Working Boys (1985) with TVJ is a Mel Brooks-ian, loosely constructed mishmash of comedic vignettes, where the three titular everymen do everyman stuff, fix everything from alarm clocks to demonic possession and get into comedic hijinks. I get the feeling after rewatching the film (it's free on Youtube via the official Viva channel) that this is a film where you are meant to see your favorite comedic actors do funny things. This is not a serious dramatic movie about the perils of the gig economy, and it would be silly to think otherwise. Therefore, all I ever expected from Working Boys 2 was for the film to have charming leads and funny jokes. News flash: this new film does not have either of those things.

Instead of being savvy and self-employed, the five titular characters of Working Boys 2: Choose Your Papa are unemployed bums unsuccessfully trying to be gainfully employed. One of them loses his chance because he has breath so bad his mere existence should be classified as an act of bioterrorism. Another one has the mental processing power of a paramecium, holding up the rest of a crowded elevator because his brain crashed.

I'd tell you their names if I could, but to be honest that's one of the biggest problems with the film: none of the main characters are worth remembering in the first place. Yes, some of the actors like Mikoy Morales are great in other films, but there's nothing substantial for them to work with here. I'd also say none of them work well with comedy, or at least this type of comedy, and the one legit "comedian" here is Bayani Agbayani, whose schtick is equally painfully unfunny: his character Tso Papi's main thing is that his main mission in life is to breed his wife Tsa Bebeth (Debs Garcia) - by the end of the film they succeed, and celebrate her pregnancy by having sex again. Haha. 

The five boys eventually become all-around fixers on their own with a 21st century twist: they launch the Choose Your Papa app, where they offer their services on there for a price. This quickly goes out of hand as they are wrongfully accused by a vengeful party of using the service to do lewd things, though thankfully this is resolved... and that's it. Boring, unfunny, and forgettable, it's better to just stick with the original, which is way better and you don't have to spend a peso to watch it.

D' Aswang Slayerz | A Review

 

In my almost 18 years of writing for this blog, I've come across a number of real stinkers, films that are shoddily made, produced without thought and told with stories that simply don't work. I was expecting the same when I saw D' Aswang Slayerz, the new film from actor/director Ricky Rivero. But I'm going to say this right now before y'all expect me to lie down like a corpse somewhere and clown on this film: I don't think D' Aswang Slayerz is that bad. I can't say it's a good film, but believe me, I've seen way worse. 

Let's take a step back. As far as I know, D' Aswang Slayerz is the first theatrical project of Amartha Entertainment Production, a company that makes Youtube web series featuring its stable of talents. The main guy heading up the company (and the "protagonist" of this film) is one Mel Martinez, whom Filipino film experts will note is the brother of Diamond Star Maricel Soriano. We'll talk about him later.

The film is, perhaps, a means of stepping up their game - a risky and ballsy decision. However, the local film industry is ruthless and pretty costly: I'm sure you've heard of well done, quality productions fizzling out in cinemas before the weekend - well, as of this writing (I started writing this a week ago lol), only a single cinema is still showing the film in Metro Manila - SM North Edsa -  and on a single screening, too. The film seems to have a little more success in the provinces, where its brand of humor probably clicks better with audiences there, but I was lucky to have seen the film before it all but disappears.

D' Aswang Slayerz (yes, the Z is intentional) is about Paps Mir (Martinez), an unemployed man who lives in a rented apartment with his adoptive daughter Eve (Athalia Badere). Paps Mir tries to establish several businesses of his own to little success, and the two are in danger of being evicted. However, the two of them are greeted by a mysterious figure who turns out to be La Niña (Magdalena Fox,) a (kinda) long lost relative who is part of an aswang-slaying clan back in the province - and since Paps and Eve are legit blood related to that family, they are inheritors of the clan's famed aswang-slaying powers. The two move to an aswang-infested baranggay in the province where they soon get distracted in various affairs: while Eve takes the vampire threat seriously, Paps decides to become the family chef for the baranggay chairman Eudora (Sharmaine Arnaiz), who coincidentally turns out to be the local queen of the aswangs, Helga.

Shenanigans ensue, and by shenanigans I mean,,, not a lot. Paps Mir, Eve and their neighbor Logan (GJ Dorado) get magical weapons, "train" in various aswang killing techniques and lounge around while the aswangs they are supposedly hunting kill and kidnap a lot of people. It's a small step away from becoming completely nonsensical, but the movie manages to stumble into a conflict between Paps, who is smitten by hunky tricycle driver Troy (Lester Tolentino), and Eve, who knows that Troy is part of the aswang pack. It's a really silly turn of events, but to be fair the movie doesn't take itself too seriously either. This is the low budget equivalent of an MMFF movie, and I would not be surprised if Martinez and his colleagues tried to submit this last year to the festival. Full of insult comedy, references to Filipino cinema and camp, in concept the film should work. But unfortunately, due to limitations in budget and technical expertise, the end product is mediocre at best, and achingly dull at worst.

As mediocre as the film is, there are a few bright spots: the film's MVP is undoubtedly Magdalena Fox. Fox, an internet personality whose origins stem from Tiktok, brings a weird kind of charm to her performance and won this cynical movie watcher over. Unfortunately, the film's main protagonist is in my opinion its weakest link: Mel Martinez' exaggerated facial contortions and bulging eyes are like if William Hung and Graves' Disease had an angry, surly baby. It would have been great for comedy but there's a edgy meanness to Martinez' character and humor that it doesn't really work.

It mostly means well, though because it leans a lot into its self-awareness, it made it hard to find the whole affair ironically entertaining. Add that to the fact that the film is as technically polished as a preschooler's drawing - missing minutes of audio in the most crucial and climactic scene. Though it starts pretty interestingly, D' Aswang Slayerz has a languid, boring middle part and a third act that is plain unfinished.

In times past I probably would have been harsher, but time does mellow a man, and to be fair the five people who watched it with me seemed to be entertained for at least the film's first part, so it's not a total loss. This is not the worst local film of 2023. It's not even close. But don't expect a masterpiece either.

March Film Digest: Oras De Peligro, Kunwari Mahal Kita

 

Set on the cusp of the EDSA Revolution, Oras De Peligro follows a family as they deal with personal tragedy. Beatriz (Cherry Pie Picache) learns that her jeepney driver husband Dario (Allen Dizon) has been killed after a botched robbery. A number of corrupt cops pin the blame on Dario and forbid the family from taking the body home. 

Joel Lamangan's strengths, in my mind, have always been in theater and in acting - not in directing for film. However, perhaps spurred by current events (in the context of his late 2010s-early 2020s work, this is Lamangan at his most indignant) Oras de Peligro plays to his strengths. The result is still admittedly a mixed bag, but is a lot better than other recent films of his that seem too complacent. The story itself feels a bit didactic or stagey at some points (and the climax stretches disbelief a little too much) though I chalk that up to Lamangan's theater background working this time to the film's detriment. 

The film also segues into other side stories regarding other people related to Dario - all taking place in the background of EDSA, with each character's story depicting the various situations Filipinos faced during the Marcos regime (and even now), from farmers in the province to labor unions to middle class liberals. It is reminiscent of Jang Joon-hwan's 1987: When the Day Comes (2017), a film also about a democratic revolution whose nebulous, protean structure lacks a central protagonist as well. Both films capture the heady energy of a revolution slowly but surely taking shape. Lamangan takes care not to fictionalize or distort the actual events of the revolution, opting to show news clips and video from the actual event - the events of the movie acting as a sort of filmic metaphor to show how political indifference does not shield one from being a victim of an unjust system, or how standing up for what is right for everyone is the morally correct solution. 

This is, in my view, Lamangan's way of paying respect to history, a rebuttal to filmmakers who, given the many ways art and commerce clash, abandon their integrity and principles for money. The film represents a partial solution - granted, there are a lot more systemic problems at play today (some even stemming from the aftermath of this revolution and its lapses in seeking accountability from the people involved) though no single work of art can affect political change, if at all. The true "revolution" starts elsewhere, and from the ground up: in our schools, in our homes, in our conversations with other people, in how we view history and truth in a society where it's getting hard to parse it from falsehood. 

The main conceit of Roderick Lindayag's Kunwari... Mahal Kita really only kicks into gear in the final 30 minutes of the film. In the meantime, we are treated to an extended meet cute between Greg (Joseph Marco) and hotel worker Hayds (Ryza Cenon). See, Greg's currently separated from his wife Cindy (Nathalie Hart), who rejects him because of a clash in personalities and life goals. Cindy can't find what she wants in Greg, and she tries to flirt with other people. Despondent, Greg retreats to his cousin's resort in Bolinao, where he meets Hayds. The two seem to click immediately, but there's some hesitation on Greg's part since he's still technically married to his wife and he still holds some lingering feelings towards her.

I can forgive a certain level of meet cute in romantic films like this, though in this particular case it does so to the detriment of everything else - and the meet cute isn't that well done either. There is a lack of flow from one scene to the other, and while the film bumbles its way to make us invest in the two characters, it's not enough to offset the tonal shift that happens in the last third. There's still some fun to be had, to be fair: Nathalie Hart makes a nice villain once she enters into the picture, but Greg and Cindy's relationship feels tentative and sadly not one worth rooting for.

What's even more unfortunate is the fact that the film deals with its conflicts almost as an afterthought, relying on a time skip to magically resolve all of the problems established during the course of the film. Perhaps instead of having scenes that have little to no impact on the rest of the film (such as a scene in a beach at night that basically exists for the characters to ask each other why the hell they are there) they could concentrate more on having the audience invest in its characters.

March Horny Film Digest: Mang Kanor, Lagaslas

 

A little background: the original Mang Kanor was an old man (allegedly a cop) who recorded a video of himself having sex with a significantly younger (and busty) woman. (Again, allegedly) they had sex as a favor to finance the woman's education. This happened multiple times.

This movie fictionalization tries to add a little background to the old man. It's nothing particularly deep - a younger, uglier Kanor, whose face looks like someone stabbed it multiple times with a pentel pen, struggles with his self esteem and his interactions with women. He doesn't have the emotional maturity (or the stamina) to handle it.

Now that he's gotten older and has a little bit more money to throw around, various women form a transactional relationship with the dude for their own financial needs. There's a lot of depth to be plumbed here. For example the women willingly get into this relationship for their own (admittedly nebulous) sakes, knowing that horny men are horny and gaming the system in that regard (while some also do this to satisfy their own sexual needs.) Kanor, for his part, is still in some ways as emotionally immature as he was in the beginning of the film, the film framing him as someone who, in his own messed up way, genuinely wants a connection with someone and sees these transactional relationships as his way of achieving that. There's also a subtle level of social pressure pushing him to seek these relationships even if it is to the detriment of everyone involved. As we hear with his macho banter with other people and the workers under his employ, getting with a beautiful woman (sometimes multiple, sometimes at the same time, and not always to everyone's benefit) is a desirable social end goal.

Our titular protagonist isn't necessarily shamed for his sexual deeds; he is actually arrested for a different crime (perhaps shedding light on why legislation like R.A. 9995 became necessary) and accepts accountability for his actions, sexual or otherwise by apologizing to the women he hurt, whether directly or not. For a movie that's been horny on main for the past hour and a half, that's actually a surprising conclusion.

Unfortunately the movie is more interested in staging boring sex scenes so all the interesting stuff feels secondary to them. If you like Rez Cortez' rotund body gyrating on a woman like a creaky run down jalopy then have at it, boys (and girls??)

p.s. I find it hilarious/sad (?) that the filmmakers behind the film got in trouble after screening the film without an MTRCB permit. Those dudes are getting their sticky fingers everywhere

Establishing character moments are meant to reveal a little bit of what a character is about, at times helping set the tone for the rest of the film. Some clever filmmakers use this as misdirection in order to set up something funky later on, but that's usually the exception to the rule. The establishing character moment for the protagonist of Vivamax's Lagaslas is of him furiously masturbating to his imagination. Props to the film for not holding any pretentions to what it is, and what it likely will be used for: material for horny men to jack off to - men not unlike the film's protagonist - despite the ubiquity and access of, you know, normal porn. To those men who feel seen, hooray for representation, I guess.

Edmar (VR Velosa) is said horny protagonist, who spends his time either jacking off, peeping at his neighbor Karisma (Manang Medina) or being nagged at by his single mother Loleng (Rubi Rubi). When he gets caught by Karisma, instead of screaming for the authorities or her adoptive parent/sexual partner Vicencio (Julio Diaz, also ew), Edmar and Karisma start a secret sexual relationship.

The more interesting plot happens in the film's sidelines: Loleng is a part of a cooperative that sells their goods at the local market. But they've been scammed by unscrupulous individuals and need to pay a massive sum of money or they'll all be evicted. In its most interesting moments, Lagaslas takes us on a tour of this small ecosystem of vendors, selling, haggling and fucking their way and living hand-to-mouth (and for some of them, dick to mouth) in an existence that is rigged against them.

I'd be on board with the shenanigans that take place if not for the fact that both protagonists are ridiculously dumb. I know horror film protagonists are stereotyped as making braindead character decisions, but holy hell these two take the cake. They both have loud sex, which is itself not that bad but they do it a couple rooms away from a sleeping Vicencio, as if they're begging to be caught. There's a case to be made here that the both of them love the thrill of almost being caught (a stupid idea, but to be fair a lot of kinda sexy ideas are stupid) especially in one scene that's almost ripped from the late Kim Ki-duk's 3-Iron, but sexy. Edmar also isn't above returning to Karisma's place for round two, even though they've already been almost caught before, nor is he above having sex with literally anyone else that isn't related to him, including his mother's manicurist.

There's also Karisma's twisted relationship with her adoptive parent Vicencio. The dude groomed the young girl as soon as her parents were out of the picture (there's a non-zero chance that he had a hand in the accident that claimed their lives, though the film doesn't imply either way) and she's developed Stockholm syndrome towards the guy - she knows she's being exploited, but she makes it clear that she accepts this arrangement. Edmar comments on the situation with the most cursed line of dialogue I've ever heard in one of these movies - "[If I were your adoptive parent], I'd [molest you too]" which, in all my years of writing this blog, I simply have no response. This film is a gold mine of mirth. Films don't necessarily have to reflect your morality, yes, but nothing's stopping me from reacting to the absurdity of it.

Lagaslas' ending works fine on paper, but lacks the narrative framework that makes it make sense in practice. It's ultimately about a woman who games the system to ostensibly gain the "freedom" that she desires, even if it's obvious that she'll be exploited anew.