The Last Interview is a piece of... work

It is perhaps one of the greatest pitfalls of a biographical film that it becomes a hagiography - in that it portrays its subject as a saint and not as a flawed human being. The Last Interview: The Mayor Antonio Halili Story does not fall into that trap, because it seems to be actually tailored to make you not like the character; the man in the film is portrayed as a well meaning douche. One could think that this film is a mean spirited attempt at character assassination, but then again, the original intentions seem to be to portray its subject as a good guy, so we'll chalk this one up to general incompetence on the filmmakers' part and a glaring lack of self awareness.

Like last year's sylvan masterpiece of wooden acting Ang Misyon: A Marawi Siege Story, director Ceasar Soriano  has once again chosen a topic about a relevant event and  predictably botches the landing like a drunk chimpanzee landing a 747. Last year, the Mayor of Tanauan, Batangas was shot and killed during a flag ceremony. The man had a penchant for parading drug suspects, and although he was publicly supportive of the country's drug war, he was linked to illegal drugs himself (even though no evidence to that effect ever came out to the public.) His killers have never been found.

The film is framed as a pseudo-documentary: most of the movie is a flashback to Halili's life and his journey towards political leadership. John Estrada takes the lead role. Director Soriano himself takes a role as the interviewer, as if the movie was an episode of his PTV show Magandang Gabi, Pilipinas. Again, someone used to Filipino biopics would perhaps expect a hagiography, portraying its subject as a virtuous person - but there is a disconnect between what the film wants to show us and what we really see. If anything, it says a lot about the logic and mindset of people supporting the drug war.

The flashbacks literally start with an elementary school age Halili beating up another kid. The film tries to justify this in an unconvincing scene where his father tells his mother that it's okay that Halili beat up that kid, because that kid was a bully and his son was protecting other people. In any other situation, this kid would be seen as a violent thug and not as a valiant protector. Lesson #1: it's okay to inflict violence on other people, as long as it's against the right people. This theme is maintained throughout the flashback sequences as we see Halili beat up people a few more times. The second time we see this, we are not given a reason why he is beating up said person - we are just led to believe that since it's Halili doing the beat down, that person deserves it.

A sideplot involves Halili's cousin being raped and tortured by a number of nameless bad guys, but we don't know who they are, and the cousin is used as an excuse to justify Halili's tough stance on crime. Shame, then, that we don't really know what happened to that case, and the dead cousin is promptly forgotten. Lesson #2: It's enough to be angry at injustice, and that anger takes precedence over the actual dispensation of justice.

Halili finds his sweetheart (portrayed at different ages by Kate Alejandrino and Ara Mina) by aggressively courting her. (And by aggressive, I also mean that they bond through Halili beating up several people. It's kind of a trend at this point.) They eventually get married, but then the film inexplicably shows a scene where Halili cheats on her with another woman. Halili is clearly caught in the act, but it's somehow solely the mistress' fault. This is also played up for laughs, considering the accompanying soundtrack. The rest of the film forgets this scene and emphasizes their great romance. Lesson #3: when a man cheats, it's always someone else's fault, and it is just a case of men being men, with no negative impact to their character whatsoever.

When Halili finally does become mayor, he makes good on his promise and cracks down hard on criminality. We get anecdotal footage of people telling us that hey, the mayor's methods kinda work. Soriano frames Halili as an action star, actively taking part in these operations with an M-16 slung over his shoulder, even though there isn't any reason to believe he actually participated this deeply. Lesson #4: "tough guy" politicians see themselves as the action stars of their own movies, a fantasy that seems to be a way to compensate for some psychological complex.

This leads to the parading of suspects that Halili was famous for. The film's 'logic' holds true up to this point. Since these alleged (emphasis on alleged since they haven't been convicted) users and pushers are the bad guys, it's okay to disregard their human rights, even though ironically the film shows footage of a prisoner saying yeah, we have rights too. That doesn't matter, of course. The film does address that there are people that criticize Halili's methods, but this is dismissed quickly, with our erstwhile mayor stating that the people who criticize him must be involved in drugs, too. In this context, this feeling of self-righteousness and entitlement makes sense. Lesson #5: Elected officials are the official, unassailable arbiters of what's right and wrong, and if you criticize them, rightfully or not, you must be an enemy as well and deserve no rights.

This proves to be ironic as Halili himself gets tagged in the administration's narcolist. It's unclear how or why he is involved in said list, as the film chalks it up to "political blabla" (an actual line in the film) and political persecution (by whom, the film never says.) Faced with the possible end of his political career, there's a scene where Halili sees a political future for his daughter, but only because she's his daughter. Nothing in the movie tells us why she deserves that position, she apparently deserves it because of Lesson #5. Lesson #6: Political dynasties are justified. I guess. Considering that his daughter did eventually win as mayor during the recent election, that says a lot about how people think about it.

Soriano uses mostly competent actors this time, which only exacerbates the the fact that it makes the non-actors even worse by contrast. Imagine award-winning actor Noel Comia Jr. delivering his lines alongside a couple of human shaped robots and you'll get an idea how ridiculous it looks like. And it's not hard to see why these non-actors lack the direction needed to give a convincing performance: Soriano himself has the acting prowess of a damp sponge. On the technical side, the film is actually a giant step up from Soriano's previous film, but that's relatively speaking.

The film ends with actual footage of Halili's death, which feels overly graphic and insensitive to its subject. I personally never knew the former mayor; all I know is what the film tells me. For all I know he might have actually been a truly upstanding individual, a respectable public official and a model citizen, who did good by the citizens of Tanauan. It's just that this tone-deaf failure of a biopic doesn't do him or his legacy any favors. It's poorly made, poorly directed, and comes from a place of smug condescension and a total lack of awareness. Whether one is for or against the drug war, there's nothing in this film that caters to either audience, because it sucks. And given that literally no one saw this film (I saw this film alone in an otherwise empty theater) I think audiences picked up on that, too.

Kuwaresma (spoilers)

Note: major spoilers for Kuwaresma.

Set in the year 1985, Kuwaresma follows Luis (Kent Gonzales) as he returns to his home in Baguio to attend the funeral of his recently deceased sister. It becomes clear that something is not quite right in the house, which leads to all sorts of complications. Luis' dad, Arturo, is a controlling, hypermasculine soldier who believes in survival of the fittest, while his doctor mom is subservient to her husband's whims.

There's no question that Kuwaresma creates an interesting atmosphere. Things are off-kilter at just the right amounts and the weirdness is unique compared to other contemporary horror films. Thankfully, the film decides not to rely on cliched horror tropes to deliver its scares (at least, not too much). Like most of Erik Matti's recent films, the film can also be enjoyed at multiple levels, and there's a decent amount of subtext going on.

While the film does do a number of really good things that work on their own, when working together as parts of a greater whole the results are not as effective. Kuwaresma tries to juggle several things at once, and each of those little things affect the others in negative ways. 

The film can be seen as a critique of toxic masculinity, but the demonic possession angle of the film dilutes that message, because now the reason for all the evil acts in the film are can be blamed on a demon, and not solely on the man and the evil built into his character. The film tries to champion the power of a woman, but at the same time the film also conveys the message that when good people do nothing, evil flourishes, inadvertently putting some blame on the woman in what is an obviously abusive relationship. In its construction, the film tries to espouse these messages without thinking too much of the history and power structures that created this situation in the first place.

In its most meaningful twist, it is revealed that Luis is a woman all along, and that his choice to become a man stems from his father's actions, but the suspension of disbelief is too hard to maintain. It's strange to think that Luis would just conveniently forget that he doesn't have a penis, especially every time he goes to the bathroom. How would he take a piss in comfort rooms? Would he mess up his pants trying to piss standing up? And while gender reassignment surgeries were available as early as the sixties, it wasn't widely available in the Philippines (and it still isn't), and there is no indication that any surgery ever happened. It could have been a powerful statement on how sexual identity is sometimes forced upon us by others, but it doesn't stick the landing.

Kuwaresma is not a bad film per se, but it ends up being a victim of putting too much on its plate. While it is entertaining on its own, it collapses under its own complexity and that ultimately detracts from the overall experience.

Between Maybes (mild spoilers)

The latest in a slew of not-quite-romances by Black Sheep, Between Maybes is a peculiar entry in Jason Laxamana's body of work. Like his 2017 film Fallback, this film also explores a side of show business (though not as deeply) and like his other romantic films such as To Love Some Buddy (2018), the overall tone is light and surprisingly funny in its first third.

At the center of the film are Louie and Hazel (Gerard Anderson and Julia Barretto), who meet each other by chance in Saga, Japan. Hazel is an actress struggling to do something more, and Louie is a Filipino residing in Japan. Their characters are two sides of the same coin: Hazel yearns for independence from her overbearing family, but is only escaping the inevitable truth that other than acting, she can't do much else, and Louie is already independent, but yearns for the parental affection that he has been desperately searching for since his childhood.

An unlikely friendship blossoms, and there is the hint of romance, though it's a romance that feels tentative (this is not a bad thing). Hazel and Louie try to live in the space between what could be - but this feeling is short lived. Reality is always peeking around the corner, and while they help improve each other over the course of their stay, they are aware that this arrangement is fleeting. 

There are some weird choices, especially in the first half. Anime-related storytelling devices pop up occasionally in the first third, bringing about a jarring, but temporary, shift in tone. But these same devices are used in the ending of the film to great effect, signifying a hopeful continuation of a not-quite-love story that can't really take off... for now.

Notes on Man and Wife

Laurice Guillen's Man and Wife is the tragic story of a couple, Carding (Gabby Concepcion) and Luisa (Jodi Sta. Maria) who are repeatedly cockblocked by their unsuspecting child. The unfortunate interruptions of sexy time (tm) are punctuated by a thunder storm, which seems to indicate their horniness is a supernatural trigger for adverse weather phenomena. This all comes to a head during the final moments when, during the third such instance of potential cockblocking, said couple locks their child out of their room as they do the deed, traumatizing her for life thanks to 1) the thunderstorm that isn't going anywhere and 2) the sounds of their lovemaking.

But enough of that, there's actually a story in between the first cockblock and the last. The film is actually based on characters from the long-running radio drama series/teleserye Gulong ng Palad, which has been running intermittently in one form or another since the seventies. The setup is simple enough: Carding and Luisa are two lovers, but their respective families aren't shipping this OTP, so shenanigans ensue. In this iteration of the story, Carding and Luisa have settled their differences with their families by not settling them (ha) and running away to America. As the film begins, Carding is then compelled to return to the Philippines because his estranged mother Menang is sick. He brings along his family for the ride. When they return, shit seems to have hit the fan in their small community: Mayor Menang is sponsoring a mining establishment that is wreaking havoc on the local population, and has killed or maimed several people, including people in or close to Luisa's family.

The film feels VERY dated. This is a film that would have been halfway decent in 1982, but it's 2019 and soap operatics like this don't really click anymore. That isn't even including the cheesy voiceover and the old fashioned sexual politics. For some reason, the film isn't marketed as based on Gulong ng Palad - maybe the added marketing would have sold a couple more tickets, or...?

The plot points of the movie seem appropriate given that it's election season, but it does carry with it a number of unfortunate implications (so townsfolk can't solve their own problems unless the collective action is headed by a rich outsider?) And the central conflict between Carding and Luisa feels too much like an Idiot Plot. Maybe this lack of communication stems from the fact that the kid cockblocked them too much over the years.

Man and Wife isn't a bad film per se, and it's actually decently acted. The film is just very old fashioned. In a cinematic landscape where there are limited resources for making films, I'm finding it hard to justify its existence.

Tayo sa Huling Buwan ng Taon [Spoilers]

Note: some spoilers for Tayo sa Huling Buwan ng Taon. Watch the movie first, then come back here.

When I and a couple of friends talked to director Nestor Abrogena about his follow-up to the sleeper hit Ang Kwento Nating Dalawa, he told us about two words that defined the visual language of the film: flight, and orbit. How appropriate, then, that in this film the theme is arguably gravity. Things that fly fight against it; orbiting planets compromise with it to keep from falling into the sun. And its meaning also makes sense with gravity-as-presence, something that is invisible but is powerful enough to change trajectories and perturb celestial bodies.

Like Abrogena's previous film, the approach is subdued, quiet, a slice-of-life. We see Sam (Nicco Manalo) and Isa (Emmanuelle Vera) five years after the events of the first film, having settled with other partners. For most of the film, there are no histrionics, no dramatic moments. It's an approach that is almost experimental in its execution. The film deftly explores contemporary relationships in a manner that is realistic and grounded. The proceedings sound mundane, but they are immersive, helping reacquaint us with old friends.

The film revels in its stillness, aware that this stillness will not last: Isa is ready to begin a new life with her boyfriend in America, and Sam is ready to take the next step with his girlfriend and fellow teacher. The new year then represents upheaval, a permanent change in status quo. But so far these four characters are traveling unimpeded in space. And there is notable space in between these seemingly normal events: things left unsaid, or only implied. Teary faces, perhaps filled with regret. An uncertain "maybe" to a test of commitment. Resentment towards an invisible sibling. 

When Sam and Isa meet again, it is deep in the third act, but this one minor event changes the movie entirely. The camera spins around them at the point of their reunion: these are two celestial bodies affected by each other's gravity, orbiting each other once more. This perturbation sets the rest of the events of the movie in motion - this time in a fantastic long take with characters going to and fro, like billiard balls careening though a table post-break. The musical cues thereafter are subtle, but the chords remind one of Quest's Walang Hanggan - the theme of the first movie. The stillness is soon shattered, and bubbling emotions reach the surface.

This is the consequence of gravity - the invisible presence of a love story left unfinished, like a script whose ending is erased, like the hollow facade of a relationship that once was, yet one that still stands and holds sway over everything else. Perhaps the film could have fleshed things out a bit more, but there is merit in ambiguity, in things left unsaid. There is no spoonfeeding going on in this film, and we are left to piece the puzzle together ourselves. Whether you ultimately like it or not, Tayo is the kind of film that sticks with you, the kind that can leave you stunned as you leave the theater: a low-key, quiet film that packs a lot of surprises.

Notes on Maledicto

Although its structure is similar to many Filipino movies about ghostly possession, the world of Maledicto treats the supernatural with a heavier dose of skepticism than usual. That skepticism is also reflected in the film's protagonist (Tom Rodriguez,) a priest who ironically specializes in exorcisms. 

This is a world where legitimate supernatural activity is waved away as either mental illness or the effect of drugs, a plot point that, when interpreted in a certain way, has some unfortunate implications. For one thing, what does that say about legitimate mental illness and drug related cases in the real world? Does the film inadvertently trivialize that? In a film where an archaic, corrupt institution sacrifices human lives for the sake of modernization, could that be interpreted as an argument for fundamentalism? Maybe. Maybe not.

Either way, even if viewed under a superficial lens, the film suffers from a number of inadequacies. The film's atmosphere through visuals doesn't quite work thanks to a baffling decision to blur most of the frame. It's as if someone smeared the edges of the camera lens with vaseline. This focal length (or whatever camera setting made these images) is suitable for closeups, but wide shots are particularly unwatchable, with more than 2/3 of the screen a blurry mess. I'm willing to give the movie the benefit of the doubt and chalk it up to a projection problem, but other, similar reports make me wonder.

Rodriguez's Father Xavi is portrayed as a cynical, sometimes smug, maybe even sexist priest, who immediately dismisses the claims of Sister Barbie (Jasmine Curtis). Sister Barbie, though herself a more interesting character than Xavi, is pushed to the side. She possesses supernatural powers that are quickly glossed over and are mentioned only once. Her character is a mix of persistence and weak-willedness. Throughout the film she is ridiculed for her opinions and actions (and Xavi even renames her without her consent, a playful move to be sure, but one that is rife for misinterpretation).

Maledicto feels like the pilot episode for a TV series turned into a feature film. Conceptually, the idea of a demon-slaying priest-nun duo sounds pretty good. But given what Maledicto has shown us, I'd be game watching a sequel to this only after major adjustments are made to the storytelling and visuals.

A quickie review of Friend Zone

The Thais sure make really nice mainstream rom-coms. They kind of remind me of Star Cinema, but better in some aspects. These films are carefully calculated to appeal to as many viewers as possible. They even operate with the same tropes. Make a movie in an exotic location? Surprise, Friend Zone is all about traveling to several locations! There's product placement, and the film even lampshades it! There's even a blooper reel at the end that reminds me of several Star Cinema films. What ends up so fun about Friend Zone is that, even though its premise is super flimsy, it somehow manages to work.

Like the title says, Friend Zone is about two best friends, Palm and Gink. Palm has been carrying a torch for this lady for ten years, but part of the blame is also on him: he's content to be a friend instead of risking it all on romance, even though it's clear that he likes her a lot (and she, him.) Gink at this point in time is taken, but she always turns to Palm for emotional support.

It's a loopy relationship, and it's no surprise that this leads to all sorts of tension, some of it sexual. The film knows this too, and I wish it would have gone more into their thoughts, especially during the scene where they pour out their real feelings."Both of you, just get a room!" is basically the premise of the film, and it's stretched out a bit thin for two hours. However, it's still pretty entertaining. Of the two leads, it's Baifern Pimchanok who gets the meatier role and she does it well.

 

Otherwise, Friend Zone is a pleasant experience. I personally hope more Thai movies make their way to our shores (and vice-versa), because it could be an interesting learning opportunity for our two countries.

Love; Life's roughness becomes its downfall

So yeah, I'm spoiling the hell out of this movie. Spoiler warning I guess.

It's clear that Love; Life is a bit rough around the edges production-wise. Well, even that's a bit of an understatement. Shots don't match up, the timeline is a bit confusing, and some of the acting leaves much to be desired. It means well, but its storytelling flaws destroy any enjoyment I might've had in watching this disaster.

Most of the story is told as a flashback. When a hotshot music exec (Dino Imperial) learns that his daughter is writing suicidal messages on her notebook, he confronts her and she gets angry at him. This isn't some "life is pain" shit, it's literally "I want to Fucking Die." (The "fucking" is obscured, perhaps to earn a lower MTRCB rating.) He then leaves a video message on his computer, with no indication that his daughter will watch it, that tells the story of... him finding himself?

As it turns out, way back in the past, after a proposal gone wrong, music exec decides to jump off a bridge, where he meets a girl (Sachzna Laparan) who is planning to do the same thing. Calling each other by pseudonyms, the guy (now named Elvis) decides to take the girl (now Madonna) along on a little road trip. Yes, this movie rips off plotlines from other, better movies and does it terribly.

Madonna seems to have a backstory, but since this is viewed through the man's point of view, we don't really know much about her. As for Elvis, "yipes" would be a perfect descriptor of the guy. We see that Elvis' would-be fiancee rejected the proposal for a reason: Elvis is a complete asshole. He's the perfect example of an overdramatic, toxic, insensitive man who treats women as objects of desire that should act according to his whims. He romanticizes these things in his descriptions of his ex, but the flashbacks tell a different story. One would think that by the time he meets Madonna, he's changed for the better, but no, it gets worse. As it turns out, he brought Madonna on his little road trip because he wanted to dress her up in his ex's clothes and take Madonna to all the places where he and his ex spent their time together, all before killing himself.

I don't think I have to say it, but since people can be dense sometimes, THIS PREMISE IS FUCKING MESSED UP. Madonna is horrified to be used this way, and understandably so. She leaves, he follows (? the editing is really bad in this part) and he gets hit by a car.

Unfortunately, he survives, and the first thing he does is hit on his nurse, who becomes the mother to his suicidal child.

The film eventually reunites Elvis and Madonna in an unexpected way, but why should I be rooting for these two? There is no reckoning or indictment of Elvis' actions. He gets away scot free for dragging this poor lady along for the sake of his own self healing. And no wonder the child wants to kill herself, she reads books about men psychologically abusing women to comfort his own hugot. It's fucking ridiculous.

Maybe there is something in this film about loving what life has to offer (...?) But thanks to bad storytelling, it becomes a tale where men can be as assholey as they want while women exist as magical creatures that help solve their problems. It's horrible. But hey, love life!

Stranded

If you've seen the trailers for Ice Idanan's Stranded, you'd know it's based on an interesting conceit: during a particularly nasty typhoon, two strangers bond, even though they seem like polar opposites. Julia (Jessy Mendiola) seems sure of her path in life, even though it has led to her missing out on important things. Spencer (Arjo Atayde), on the other hand is aimless, and even though he's chugging along, he's doing so on the backs of his friends.

The actual stranding acts as the movie's meet-cute, though there's a catch. Julia's taken, and Spencer is smitten and somewhat flirtatious, even though he'd be shut down with just one "I have a boyfriend." It's a fine line between charming and creepy, and I think Arjo Atayde pulled it off. One would expect, following rom com tradition, that Julia would leave her controlling boyfriend immediately and take a chance on this guy, but that doesn't really happen. The film is grounded in reality and once the giddy glow of that meet cute ends, things kinda return to the status quo.

What sets Stranded apart from other conventional rom coms is that it expands on its central conceit. Though Julia and Spencer return to their lives after that event, it's clear that they have profoundly affected each other's lives. It's a two-fold expansion of Idanan's earlier film Sakaling Hindi Makarating (2016), where the romance is tangential to self-discovery and self-improvement.

Ultimately, Stranded is a pleasant experience, and fans of Idanan's lush cinematographic work will not be disappointed.

Sinag Maynila 2019: Jino to Mari

Jino to Mari begins with shots of meat, all lined up and ready to be sold. Perhaps one would expect the rest of the movie (about two sex workers tasked with filming a porno) to show how, through the commodification of sex, people are turned into nothing but pieces of meat to be bought and sold.

But the film does not start with sex. Nothing really salacious happens for most of the film. Instead, the film establishes its two titular protagonists' humanity before getting into the details. These are not just bodies, these are flesh and blood human beings, with loved ones, hopes and dreams just like the rest of us. As stated in Oggs Cruz's review of the film, Gino and Marie assert their rights by creating personal boundaries for themselves. Consent forms a major part of the film.

There is considerable build up to the eventual sex scene, and it feels ritualistic. Gino and Marie both take baths - part of standard procedure before doing sex work, but depicted here as a sort of ablution and viewed through voyeuristic framing. The sex begins, and the rights Gino and Marie have established are challenged. The directors of the scene try to take Gino and Marie's dignity away, but they doggedly hold on to it, though there is slight compromise for the sake of earning money. This reminds one of films like Brillante Mendoza's Masahista (2005), whose titular masseur exchanged sex work for cash. (Also an appropriate comparison, considering Mendoza also wrote the story for this film.) There is a kiss in the middle of the climax that signifies either a final surrender, and the completion the process of Gino and Marie's degradation, or a final defiant act of humanity.

Multiple interpretations emerge from behind the frames, carefully and meticulously crafted by Altarejos and DP Mycko David. The radio broadcasts heard during bus rides or at home lampshade the toxicity of Filipino culture and our tendency to objectify, from the highest office of the land down to its most lowly citizen. The camera's focus tends to drift towards bodies: an extension of our characters' eyes, and even our own, making us aware of our gaze. The film's music is mostly classical, its central motif arguably Leo Delibes' Flower Duet from his opera Lakme. Lakme is an opera about doomed love, ending with a defiant death to preserve honor. Classical music in itself feels ethereal and pure, providing a disturbing level of contrast when used during the film's most extreme scenes. 

The casting of a Japanese man as the director of the pornographic film, juxtaposed with historical accounts of their occupation of our lands, perhaps signifies a broader, political meaning, depicting a history of colonialism that continues to this day. And in a metafictional sense, considering that this ostensible Japanese porno is a film within a film, it is curious that the title of this movie is in Japanese. Is this Altarejos placing himself in the shoes of the Japanese director, saying that, in the making of such a steamy film, he too may be no different, his effort to humanize his characters serving as some sort of atonement? The film also asks the question: in the creation of art, how should the creator treat the performer? Should they treat them with respect, or merely as glorified props who spout lines?

Dense with meaning and open to interpretation, Jino to Mari will not be to everyone's taste, but I personally consider it one of Altarejos' better works.

Sinag Maynila 2019: Jesusa, Shorts A

To what lengths will a viewer stomach suffering on screen? The cinema of misery will always find a place with viewers, but to this reviewer, I've come to the conclusion that miserablist cinema isn't for me. I feel that the process of making a film's protagonist an endless vessel for degradation walks hand in hand with the removal of their dignity as characters.

This endless train of suffering defines Jesusa's plot. Its titular character (played ably by Sylvia Sanchez) is unloved by almost everyone else in her life, even though she herself has so much love to give. While the story's setting definitely indicates poverty, it would be simplistic to call this poverty porn, as Jesusa's misery isn't directly impacted by her social condition - her misery is a function of her character flaw to love every asshole who comes into her life. Of course one could argue that  indirectly, yes, a few aspects of her life would have been easier had she not been poor, but Jesusa the character, with the same masochistic tendency to seek abuse, would probably be miserable in other ways regardless of social standing.

The plot of the film segues into drug use as Jesusa turns to them to lessen her misery. Drugs are everywhere in this film; it is depicted as an unkillable pest that pervades society. There is merit in trying to find out Jesusa's motivations, as people turn to drugs to escape the stark realities of everyday life, but the execution of that idea comes up a bit short.

And perhaps Jesusa the film's greatest failing is the lack of redemption in Jesusa the character, which also serves to undermine any message the film might have with regards.to rehabilitation. Granted, Jesusa lacks the emotional support systems to prevent a relapse, but the ending of the film just feels mean-spirited about the whole thing. Hopelessness and cynicism, like illegal drugs, are tempting to come back to in the realm of the cinema of misery. But in this reviewer's honest opinion, I don't think it necessarily makes for great cinema.

We Want Short Shorts Short Shorts Reviews Sinag Maynila 2019 Edition

Shorts A

Lawrence Fajardo's Memories of the Rising Sun is set during the Japanese Occupation, where a woman saves a Japanese soldier's life, creating a bond between the two. There are occasionally interesting ideas in this short, but they don't come out fully formed, and the ending has too many loose ends.

A sudden spurt of violence underlines Marian, a story about the monsters we create through abuse. It's decent enough and pretty straightforward stuff.

Based on a true story, Kilos feels like sketches, bits and pieces of a larger film. As it is, it feels relatively incomplete.

Bisperas feels like an advocacy film, but it is an advocacy worth sharing. There are also some pretty great shots in this film, which is pretty remarkable considering how short it is.

And finally we have Kiss, which is well-written, quirky and self contained. It doesn't go deeper into the specifics of its central idea, but it doesn't have to, and the way it ends creates a pleasant little loop. 

Sinag Maynila 2019: Persons of Interest

I'm going to talk about the plot of this film in depth, so if you haven't watched it, this is your warning. Better yet, don't read this. Haha.

Let me begin this review (?) by telling you a story. I'm a relatively big fan of Star Trek: The Next Generation, and one of the episodes of that series is a murder mystery. Episode 139 is titled Aquiel, about a mysterious streak of deaths in a remote space station. Aquiel is one of the apparent casualties, and a prime suspect in the case. But surprise surprise, the culprit turns out to be the dog all along! Yes, you read that right, the dog was actually an alien that murdered the victims, and also Aquiel is actually alive.

Let's just say that Aquiel isn't exactly one of the most well-regarded episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. It's a boring mystery with annoying or bland characters, but the resolution was pretty neat.

Now I don't know if Ralston Jover watches Star Trek, but when I was watching his latest (?) film, Persons of Interest, I caught myself wondering: did this film just perform an Aquiel? As it turns out, the answer is yes and no, and I'm going to tell you all why.

Jover's filmmaking modus operandi seems to be to make a quirky, interesting character and build a story around him or her. In this case, it's Ramil (Allen Dizon), a blind cook living with his geriatric live-in partner somewhere in Pampanga. Their relationship has taken an acrimonious turn, as Ramil was caught "cooking some dishes" (if you'll forgive the lame and out of place metaphor) with his lover's maid, Doray. Shortly after that, he is accused of food poisoning, as a party held by his lover's daughter turns deadly as they consume food apparently prepared by him. Meanwhile, his son Tristan has been seeing an apparition of a man who looks exactly like Ramil, but this version of Ramil can apparently see. Did Ramil really kill all those guests? If not him, then who?

Now you all may be wondering, is this film really going to do what we think it's going to do? Does it have the balls to say that Ramil 2, Tristan's IMAGINARY FRIEND, was the actual perpetrator of the crime?

The subsequent courtroom drama takes us into Ramil's past: how he met his lover and what could've led him to commit the crime, even though there seems to be no indication that he did it. Even though Ramil checks every box of the "strange quirky character" checklist, he just doesn't come off as a compelling character. Allen Dizon does his best, but his character is simply written as too unsympathetic and bland for us to root for his legal victory. There are also some weird clues along the way. Before his alleged poisoning spree, Ramil somehow solves a Rubik's cube, even though HE'S BLIND. Did he just channel Spider Noir or could he really see?

In all honesty, I would've loved it had the film had the balls to pinpoint the imaginary friend as the one who did it. It would have made absolutely no sense. It would, in retrospect, probably be a bad idea, but I would have championed this film. But alas, we are to judge films as they are, and not as what we want them to be. The culprit turns out to be Tristan all along. Why he did it, I don't really know, since the film doesn't tell us. Was it really because he resented Ramil for cheating on [not his mom] for [also not his mom]? Once his testimony exonerates Ramil, the film ends...

...which brings me back to Aquiel. Aquiel was a boring mystery with an interesting resolution. Even then, it ended up being a forgettable episode. This film was a boring mystery with a mundane resolution, and (at least for me,) it ended up being an equally forgettable film.

Sinag Maynila 2019: Pailalim, Akin ang Korona, Shorts B, Documentaries

Bangis (Joem Bascon) and his family live in a cemetery. He hustles a lot of side jobs but his major source of income comes from grave robbing. When his only child gets sick, Bangis considers desperate measures to save his child.

Pailalim is a movie that draws from a lot of previous social realist films: its milieu has been explored before with films like Ralston Jover's Da Dog Show (2015), and the juxtaposition of the living among the dead draw some comparisons to Magkakabaung (2014), Oros (2012), and Purgatoryo (2016). In this case, the people living among the dead feel like walking dead themselves, shunned and rendered invisible by society at large.

The film delves into some interesting topics such as the behaviors that drive people into drugs, the economies of corruption in small and large scales that perpetuates these communities and even heath seeking behavior influenced by poverty, lack of knowledge and other societal conditions. Ultimately, however, the tale that Pailalim tells is very simple and doesn't quite coalesce into something more profound. We are made to experience their suffering, and that's it.

The work is elevated by a committed performance by Joem Bascon and some decent camerawork. While Pailalim is stuff we've mostly seen before, fans of the social realist genre will have something to chew on.

Zig Dulay's Akin ang Korona opens with a sequence much like the local reality TV show Face to Face, where two groups of people have at each other after revealing some scandalous secret. Face to Face itself was patterned after US shows like Jerry Springer, whose "reality" is itself suspect. As it turns out, this fuzzy line between real life and reality is the beating heart of this film, reminiscent of the works of the late Francis Pasion, especially his 2008 film Jay.

When Nanong's Akin ang Korona confrontation catches the eye of the producer of the show, he is offered a chance to reconnect with his father. Nanong isn't exactly warm to the idea, but the promise of seeing a long-lost parent soon becomes tantalizing. But cinema verite this ain't: Nanong is made to act and reenact his journey, which leads him to some truths about the "reality" we consume.

That in itself can be interpreted as commentary on how television content is produced in human interest programs (such as... well, name your pick), but it can also be interpreted as a subtle jab towards works of social realism, the kind of artistic work that wouldn't feel unwelcome in a festival like Sinag Maynila. Throughout the film Nanong is instructed to stop smiling, as if he is not allowed to feel anything other than misery. He is subtly pushed towards a narrative controlled by the filmmakers. And when reality strays from that narrative,Nanong is forced back to the path... sometimes by force.

This blatant manhandling of narrative is not only counterproductive, as this film shows, it's also dehumanizing towards its subjects, a sort of objectification where flesh and blood human beings are reduced to objects to be pitied and occasionally rewarded with a nice token (only within the show's budget, of course.) But the people behind the program do so only as a consequence of economic realities (you gotta put on a good show, after all) and on Nanong's part, it partially addresses a conversation earlier in the film when he is asked, in a particularly hilarious way, if he would eat a bowl of shit for a million pesos.

The film builds on its awkwardness, as it starts from hilarity and descends into legitimate discomfort. Akin ang Korona highlights the tightrope artists must walk when depicting their fellow human beings in their art - and it shows us, in very adroit fashion, that sometimes, they fall off that rope.

We now take a look at some shorts (not hanging from some clothesline, mind you.)

We Want Short Shorts Short Shorts Reviews Sinag Maynila Edition

Shorts B

While on an objective level Dana Jung comes off as a little rough, it's full of quirkiness and heart as it tells the story of a dad who isn't ready to be a dad and his little girl who just wants to fly (metaphorically this time.)

Panaghoy starts off really weird as we follow what seems to be the Most Oblivious Woman In The World, as she takes what seems to be the Most Obvious Spawn of Satan on a little trip around town. But then the story takes us on a little ride and shows us that things aren't what they seem. I'm not 100% sure it's effective, but points for trying.

The best film (short or full length) I've seen today has to be Dude Pare Bro, a stoner comedy about a struggling architecture student who tries to recruit the services of his stoner (but apparently high-achieving) friend so that he could pass his course. It escalates quickly, and even that feels like an understatement. It's cleverly built on this level of awkwardness that builds up as it goes, making hapless viewers (like myself) laugh out loud and cringe at the same time. It's a glorious feeling.

Nagmamahal, Sal is also rough and scattershot at an objective level, but it does at least come off as heartfelt. Its depiction of a romance that matures over time gives us the highlights, but its disparate parts fail to cohere into a meaningful whole.

Ngiti ni Nazareno checks all the boxes for a grand old miserable time at the cinema: a poor child with a quirky backstory just wants his eccentric, drug-using, criminal mom to smile, so he smiles. Of course, that doesn't happen, because reality is a thing. If you're a fan of this kind of film, kudos to you, but at this point, I was out of it.

Sinag Maynila 2019 Short Documentaries Short Reviews

At Home tells the story of Christian Apolinario, who won an award abroad for his short film. Apolinario contracted polio at an early age, which left him disabled. He recounts his experiences as a PWD in Australia (and how the country accommodates people like him) and his experiences in the Philippines (and how we really have a long way to go in terms of accommodating PWDs.) It's great stuff, even though it goes a little bit too long.

Entablado functions more as reminiscence than documentation, as it looks back at the grand old Manila Metropolitan Theater, currently undergoing a multi-million peso restoration. The footage and interviews are enlightening, and we get a look at the theater as it is being restored, a glimpse at a place we haven't been allowed access to for some time.

Last year I saw a film about professional wrestling in the Philippines, The Good, The Bad, and the Fabulous, about three PWR women wrestlers. Hope Spots tackles the same subject, though it views its subjects through a broader perspective and doesn't delve into the personal lives of the people involved like the former film does.

Andap is about a woman living with Alzheimers, and it is full of really powerful, poignant moments especially near the end. However, it feels overproduced and doesn't quite know when to end (I counted two credits sequences!) I think it's still worth a watch.

Tata Pilo tells the story of its titular character, a craftsman who makes a special type of hat called a Kattukong, most prominently worn by famous figures such as Diego Silang. While it does raise a number of important questions regarding the preservation of cultural traditions and identities, it's full of problems: the staged parts feel silly at times, the film meanders and feels unfocused, and it ultimately feels repetitive.

Hyatt: Mga Kuwento, Lihim at Katotohanan tells the story of the ill-fated Hyatt hotel in Baguio, which collapsed after the 1990 earthquake that shook most of Luzon. Filled with interviews of people present during the tragedy, it's tantalizing stuff, though I wish that the material could be expanded into a feature length film.

Sinag Maynila 2019: Lakbayan (Opening Film)

Sinag Maynila begins its two week run in various cinemas, and Present Confusion will be covering the fest in its entirety.

The title of Sinag Maynila's opening film, Lakbayan, has three of the country's most well known filmmakers go on their own unique journeys into the Philippines' psyche. Lav Diaz, Brillante Mendoza and Kidlat Tahimik's takes are wildly divergent and heavily informed by their personal styles.

In the first segment, Hugaw (Dirt), the focus turns to a group of miners working in the rural part of the Philippines. Even within the working class, there are hierarchies; oppression compounding oppression. A trio of miners, their work completed, head back home on a perilous (and appropriate for Diaz, languid) journey. As their journey goes on, things become a whole lot more spiritual and surreal, as Diaz mixes in the supernatural with the mundane. A sudden turn complicates the end of their journey: what really happened in that final leg? Whose intentions are true and/or sincere? Are we supposed to take everything said at face value? 

Hugaw can be interpreted as a take on today's post-truth world, a sinister Rashomon-like universe where nothing is certain and everything is in doubt. It also gains added layers when one considers Clarence Tsui's take on this part of the film, comparing the youngest miner's plight to that of Andres Bonifacio, a hero whose death is also mired in false truths and disinformation. Hugaw thus not only is about the rights of miners, but also includes commentary on the subjective manipulation of history (and art) in the service of a political agenda.

Brillante Mendoza's part, Desfocado, is based on a series of true events. It is about a group of farmers from Sumilao, Bukidnon, who, in righteous indignation, walked all the way from Mindanao to Metro Manila to protest the seizure and conversion of their farmland. Their land was taken by the San Miguel corporation (though any reference to the company is absent in this film) and parts of it were eventually given back thanks in part to government intervention. The story is told through the eyes and camera of Jose (Joem Bascon), who marched along with the farmers to document their struggle.

This segment seems a lot more straightforward compared to the film that came before it, but it is also Mendoza at his most introspective. It depicts the filmmaker as documentarian, an "eye for the truth," though there seems to be a feeling of regret at not doing more. The film could be interpreted as a question that asks: is the responsibility of filmmakers merely to capture struggle as an impassive observer? Or should they be more involved in the struggle of the oppressed classes? The answer to that question, seeing how political cinema can be used for dishonest ends, is a double edged sword.

Kidlat Tahimik takes us on a literal ride with his no-so-dreary-and-quite-quirky segment, which follows his son Kabunyan as he empties the nest and travels from Baguio to Davao. Along the way, Kabu talks with fellow artists and even former actors from his father's films. Of the three films, this perhaps embodies the concept of the title "Lakbayan" the best. Kidlat Tahimik himself is no stranger to journeys in his films; his most well-known works are themselves roadtrips.

The film is Kidlat looking at a long and storied career and body of work, but also an exploration of the Philippines' painful colonial past through its artists. It touches on the various things that make us as an amalgamation of cultures so unique: our ties to nature (and in one case, nature creating art), the melding of masculine and feminine, a concept erased by the patriarchies of the West, and even the 'appropriation' and reuse of art. At the start of the film, tiles are broken up and re-purposed into something new, perhaps a reflection of how we, informed by our own unique cultural footprint, use those little bits and pieces to create something wonderful.

A tale of two genre films: reviews of Eerie and Maria

Here's an interesting situation: two local films, two directors - one who started out making varied, high concept films, the other born and raised in genre cinema. We'll be talking about both their movies today.

Eerie takes place in a all girls' Catholic school, no stranger to horror films from all around the world (looking at you, Whispering Corridors.) A mysterious spate of deaths has the administration and students reeling; the local handyman and janitor is arrested for the crimes. But did he really do it? Pat Consolacion (Bea Alonzo) thinks there is more to the crime than meets the eye. As it turns out, she can see dead people - and the dead people are telling a different story.

Gorgeously shot and well-acted, Eerie feels at first like a conceptual slam dunk. Similar to films like Aparisyon (2012), it uses the sheltered and restrictive milieu of a convent/religious school to depict institutions that are willingly blind to and are built on abuse. This is the true monster of Eerie, and this monster nurtures and spawns destructive, murderous children. Abuse leads to fear; the normalization of violence leads to people internalizing that violence. The body and mind become wounded in the process, and these wounds spread to everyone, like a malignant cancer that does not stop.

But of course, a message does not a movie make (at least, not by itself.) Eerie checks all the boxes of a standard Asian horror film, but nothing else. It's framed in darkness, but does little to take advantage of that darkness, as its atmosphere never really builds up to anything substantial or engaging. Its scares mostly depend on a number of jump scares, whose frequency and sameness lead  me to boredom and annoyance. This will likely be dependent on the viewer, as I am the kind of person that tries to find something new in horror films. After all, haunted houses aren't as scary if you know what's coming next. Genre film is no joke, and relying on safety isn't always the best course of action. Eerie is a middling horror film at best; a well-shot, well-acted film that falls victim to relying on safe and bland horror storytelling tropes.

In terms of expectations, action is a wholly different creature compared to horror. While a horror film is rendered impotent by a feeling of sameness, all an action flick needs to do is to be well staged and to look cool and it will be better than most action films out there. In this particular case, Pedring Lopez's Maria meets the criteria.

Maria (Christine Reyes) is a loving mother and wife. Her husband works for a well-liked politician who legitimately looks like he serves the people. However, that job puts him and his family in jeopardy: the Black Rose drug cartel wants the politician dead, and they'll kill everyone up the ladder to the top. This puts Maria's husband directly in their sights, which leads to tragic results. Soon Maria will have no choice but to return to her dark past and confront her demons once and for all.

Following off the heels of genre exercises like 2017's Darkroom and 2015's cheesy but entertaining Nilalang, Maria is Pedring Lopez's take on the female led action revenge thriller. Storywise, everyone's pretty busy: while Maria is on her roaring rampage of revenge, there are internal squabbles within the Black Rose cartel. There's a early 2000s cheesiness and/or hamminess to the whole enterprise that I find immensely enjoyable. It's not as in depth or as loaded as, say, The Raid 2, but like I said before, in action films, action is king.

And action is where Maria shines. Christine Reyes put in the work for this movie, and it shows. Lopez knows the ebb and flow of action scenes and shoots them well, mixing hand to hand combat, melee weapons and gunplay in his numerous action scenes. Extra points go to the fact that Lopez doesn't rely on fast cuts or edits to convey ferocity - he has the actor (in most cases, Christine Reyes) do it for him. That simple fact elevates this above most other local action films I've seen since last year. His staging of long takes is really impressive as well, drawing from a wide array of equally fun action sequences from other movies.

The film does have its share of faults - it's quite dark in some places (though that's probably more the fault of the cinema projection rather than the movie itself) and the movie ends with one hell of a cliffhanger. It also would've been a bit better if the film had tied up some more loose ends, or, at the very least, addressed some nagging plot questions. What happened to that politician? Is he really as good as Maria's husband says he is? What's going to happen to Black Rose now? What's Maria and co. going to do after all this? Despite all this, Maria is a really fun ride, as it knows exactly what it is, and it stays in its element from start to finish.

Here is where I rant about Pansamantagal and Papa Pogi.

Pansamantagal may actually be Joven Tan's most polished film, given that it actually goes in some sort of clear narrative direction - the same can't be said of his three previous films. This is Tan's version of a mumblecore romance, albeit one made with the budget of 300 pesos and an expired pack of Lucky Me Supreme and the elegance and sophistication of a nine year old's dirty joke; That Thing Called Tadhana with a bunch of dick jokes.

In this film, Gelli de Belen is Agness, a mistress who very clearly wants the D, and that's an upper case D for a reason. She befriends Lorena (DJ Chacha), the proprietor of the resort she's staying in, who is also obsessed with the D, and whose dialogue mostly consists of 1) asking Agnes if she's had sex yet or 2) asking Agnes if they'd had sex yet. The dialogue is supposed to reflect openness and candor, but it ends up being crass instead.

There's also a romance (??) book that clearly references Agnes (and her obsession with large sausages), whose author is the only saving grace for a couple of elderly publishers. Spoiler alert: nothing really happens to this subplot, so it's okay to not care. Agnes also bonds with Leo (Bayani Agbayani) who enjoys ripping up said book in the cliff overlooking the ocean for some mysterious reason. I hope those pages are biodegradable.

There seems to be some sort of (awkward, but it's there) relationship forming between Agnes and Leo, but the film veers straight into a wall (or a house, or a waiting shed) and crashes and burns in its last few minutes. Too bad, since there's just a little bit of earned sentiment near the end, in that the written word may disappear and things may pass, but memories tend to stick somehow - and for a Joven Tan film, that's actually kind of a clever idea.

Romeo (Teddy Corpuz) looks like the product of drunken sex between a horse and a cro-magnon, and there's actually a reason for that: his family was cursed long ago to only give birth to ugly as fuck male kids, as long as they hook up with beautiful women. To try to break this curse, Romeo tries to hook up with less than attractive Venus (Donna Cariaga), and surprise surprise, he actually falls in love with the girl. Unfortunately, she suddenly disappears from his life. But Haruki Murakami this ain't, and Romeo finds a new potential partner in Helena (Myrtle Sarrosa), who hides a mysterious secret. Yeah, I can hear you from a mile away, it's exactly as it looks like.

Papa Pogi purports to play on the notion that personality is better than outward appearances, but its exploration of that notion is only skin deep. If Romeo isn't really concerned with appearances, why try to break the curse in the first place? The women in this story are treated more or less like prizes to be won, objects, or minor annoyances instead of flesh and blood people. Even Venus, the most developed of the female characters in this story, has her life revolve around Romeo? Maybe live independently for a change, girl.

I concede that the movie can be occasionally funny, but I'm not sure if it coheres into a movie I'd spend 250 pesos on. Well, I did for the purposes of this review, but I don't think I'll be doing that again for this film for the rest of eternity.

Dispatches from HK + HKIFF 2019: Pad Man, We Are Legends, Masquerade Hotel, The Load, Manta Ray

The life of Indian inventor and entrepreneur Arunachalam Muruganantham has been covered in films before, from fictional films like 2017's Phullu to documentaries such as Menstrual Man (2013) and the Oscar-winning short Period. End of Sentence. (2018). This latest fictional account of Muruganatham's life, Pad Man, is a crowd pleasing entertainer that captures the philosophy of the real Pad Man's work, as well as extending the conversation about how menstruation is perceived in countries like India.

In this version of the tale, Lakshmikant (Akshay Kumar) works as a mechanic and all around metal worker in his small village. When he learns of his wife's menstrual period (and how she is forced to stay at home because of this) he decides to take action. This will prove to be more of a challenge. India is almost overwhelmingly patriarchal, and menstruation is either taboo or simply not talked about. This is not a new thing in the history of man, and India is no exception.

Because the culture is so ingrained in them, even the women that Lakshmi tries to help are locked into this mentality that they are at fault for their woman-ness. Lakshmi tries again and again to make people understand that this isn't right, and slowly but surely tries to understand why these women think this way (even going as far as to experience for himself what menstruation feel like.) But the true epiphany is when Lakshmi realizes he is part of the problem: it's only when a woman shares the message, and when Lakshmi helps women help and empower themselves that he achieves success.

The film also works as a fun crash course in grassroots R&D and marketing, showing a product from conception to prototyping to mass production. Either way, Pad Man is a fun watch.

Daniel Chan's We Are Legends is nicely shot, giving us some great MMA action scenes. That said, it's far too silly for its own good, and the rest of the film doesn't hold up to scrutiny.

Very loosely based on a true story, the film  focuses on two orphaned brothers, Jack (Edward Ma) and Bunny (Lam Yiu-sing). Jack is a straight up successful MMA fighter, training in the dojo headed by their foster father. But Jack lacks discipline and is overall a major asshole, and it gets in the way of his fights. Bunny, on the other hand, is more of a brawler, electing to participate in underground fights rather than fight MMA. When Jack finally eats humble pie thanks to fellow MMA pro Jason (Jason Li), it's time for Bunny to enter the spotlight.

Filled with veteran martial arts actors and martial artists, the film should've been at least fun, but ultimately little of it works. It's hard to relate to Jack's character (a better film probably would've followed Bunny or even Jason instead) and by the time Jack gets better, the film is 10 minutes away from ending. Tonally the film is all over the place, being comedic when it shouldn't be, and being serious when things get a little silly.

In fact, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to describe a film as a dojo full of assholes challenging a decent, reputable martial arts outfit. And when, in a martial arts film of all things, you find yourself rooting for the enemy, you know something's gone wrong somewhere.

From the director that brought us GTO and Hero, Masquerade Hotel feels like a J-drama compressed into the space of two hours, featuring episodic plotlines in addition to its central mystery. In this (star studded) adaptation of Keigo Higashino's novel, Takuya Kimura plays Nitta, a gruff detective tasked with figuring out a series of serial murders. When the location of the next murder is found out to be a local hotel, the police department gets on the case and posts people undercover. Nitta is paired up with Yamagishi (Masami Nagasawa,) one of the hotel's best employees. Through undercover work, Nitta not only investigates the case, but also discovers he's actually not that bad as a hotelier either.

The central mystery isn't that complicated; the film throws out enough clues that it isn't hard to figure out who the culprit is. However, the journey that takes us there is still quite enjoyable. Nagasawa and Kimura have great chemistry, and the variety of mini-cases that make up most of the movie are all interesting.

That said, perhaps it would have been better to make the movie a series, just so that we'd have more time to get to know the characters. What we eventually get isn't so bad, though.

One of the most striking features of Ognjen Glavonic's The Load is how drab it is. Though touted as a thriller, nothing in the film is remotely tense. Even though it shares the same thematic roots as Glavonic's own Depth Two (2016), it explores a different dimension of the Kosovo war. But this drabness reflects something even more profound about the capacity of everyday people for unspeakable evil, and ultimately how mundane it turns out to be.

This road movie follows Vlada, a truck driver tasked with driving mysterious cargo across Serbia to the capital, Belgrade. It's unclear what the cargo contains, or if Vlada really knows what's inside the truck. The film takes us through the Serbian countryside during the height of NATO's bombing runs on the country. Amongst relative peace and calm, there are hints of the destruction in the background: a flaming automobile or two, or maybe shades of artillery in the distance.

When we do learn of the contents of the cargo, things gain a bit more resonance. And an anecdote near the end about a missing lighter becomes a meditation on how people, realizing the evil they've done because of their knowledge of war, decide to pass something else to the next generation instead - a tape signifying the determination to live on instead of a remembrance of death.

We end this year's slew of dispatches with Manta Ray, the  full length directorial debut of cinematographer Phuttiphong Aroonpheng. It begins with a dedication to the Rohingya Muslims, but it is an ode to all refugees. It tells the story of an unnamed fisherman (Wanlop Rungkamjad), who discovers a mute fisherman (Aphisit Hama) in mangroves near his home. The fisherman takes care of his new charge, but it becomes clear that he is somehow complicit in what happened to his new friend, and his actions constitute guilt over what he's done.

Their relationship evolves over the course of the film; the fisherman names his mute friend Thongchai after the popular Thai singer Thongchai McIntyre, based on one of Thongchai's earliest and most popular songs, Hard-Sai Sai-Lom Song-Rao, (Beach, Wind and the Two of Us). He might be the perfect representation of their relationship, as Thongchai is popular in both Thailand and Myanmar, signifying the best of both worlds.

Their relationship becomes something more intimate, yet not overtly so. Their identity seems to blend together at times, especially near the end of the film. But perhaps the real tragedy of the film is at the end, when Thongchai, untethered from the house that gave him back his life, becomes a refugee once more, his cultural identity melding and fading due to constant displacement, adrift in the darkness of the sea.

Dispatches from HK + HKIFF 2019: On the Basis of Sex, The Red Phallus, My Masterpiece

Ruth Bader Ginsburg is a national treasure, one of the most important figures in contemporary women's rights. In true Oscar Bait Biopic (tm) fashion, On the Basis of Sex examines how Ginsburg and her husband helped make the landmark case declaring gender-based discrimination unconstitutional.

The film is relatively lighthearted, and it hits all the familiar beats we're used to with these types of biopics, though we really don't get to see a complete picture of the woman behind it all. Despite a great performance from Felicity Jones, Ruth Ginsburg the character feels hard to connect to as a flesh and blood character. The documentary RBG is probably a better choice instead.

While we get perspectives about how western women face discrimination and sexism all the tim, we rarely get glimpses from other places. Bhutan's The Red Phallus is such a film, portraying the struggles of one girl, Sangay as she navigates her suffocatingly patriarchal society.

The symbolism is more than overt; the village Sangay lives in is literally packed with phalluses, as their culture engages in a sort of phallus-worship. She is subjected to the whim of her oblivious father, who makes these wooden penises for a living and her lover, a butcher who happens to be married. Even though her lover is of the lowest social class in their village, even he can order Sangay around.

This slow burn smoulders over time, reaching a breaking point of sudden, unexpected violence culinating in a frame that encapsulates the meaning behind the film's title: a phallus destroyed, covered in blood. 

Gaston Duprat's Mi Obra Maestra (My Mastepiece) begins with a shocking confession from Art Agent Arturo Silva: he is, secretly a murderer. What ensues is a tragic yet often hilarious satire of the art scene, buddy movie and critique all in one.

We flash back to five years before the events of the first sequence, when Arturo is stil involved with his artist friend, Renzo Nervi. Renzo is the epitome of the narcissistic, self absorbed artistic genius: arrogant, selfish, ideologically dogmatic and obsessed with his art. Renzo is a dear friend to Arturo yeet is also the source of many of his problems.

the film examines the relationship between art and commerce, with art becoming a twisted parody of its noble self,  commodified instead of made for its own sake. In one scene Renzo asks for a free meal because of is "contributions to the art world." This is absurd to the restaurant manager, and i suspect even to some of us in the audience: we hav become victims of this perverted system as well.

And like in any movie where the system is broken, Renzo and Arturo decides to throw caution to the wind and game the system if they can't beat it, leading to a fun rollercoaster ride of deception, sadness, and hilarity.