Feb Digest 2: Without You, Ako si Ninoy

 

There is a certain genre of film that depicts couples in the midst of a very messy breakup, trying desperately and in vain to fix their relationship. These films usually fail more than they succeed, though the rare film that does make it work (like Andoy Ranay's Open (2019)) is pretty good. Without You, unfortunately, falls under the "fail" column.

Axel (David Licauco) is a piece of shit who walks all over his "girlfriend" Ria (Shaira Diaz), a call center agent who works hard to keep them both afloat. Axel regularly goes out with other women, sometimes in Ria's face. There is zero reason for this relationship to stay a relationship. There is no empathy: Axel wants intimacy but doesn't understand that his girlfriend works weird hours and is perpetually tired to keep them financially afloat. He complains that she "sleeps too much." There is no transparency: they rarely communicate their feelings with each other unless it is through fighting. There is zero sense of the two working as a couple: the two of them often bicker over who does the chores, don't cover for each other, and don't follow their responsibilities.

From the very start, it's obvious that these two have no business staying together, and it makes this 71 minute movie 71 minutes too long. As the two try to make the relationship work, it's easy to wonder: what makes these two worth rooting for in the first place? The film doesn't give us any answers, and any attempts to give their relationship any value lies in two scenes of them painting and bumping into each other, as if that's enough (it's not.) Maybe show us more of the good stuff before it all devolved into the bad stuff, but I'm not even sure if that will work in this case.

This is a deeply toxic "relationship" that isn't even depicted compellingly. It is an utter waste of my time, and in the year of our lord 2023, perhaps filmmakers should reconsider romanticizing relationships like this.

The basic premise of Ako si Ninoy is that "there's a hero in all of us," which is a nice sentiment to have, but Vince Tanada is such an inept filmmaker that none of it really works. I haven't seen any of his plays (though I've read a couple of his scripts) so I can't comment on his theater work, but I have seen a series and a couple of films, and whatever was working for him in the theater isn't translating here. Filmmaking and theater may have similar languages but they differ in crucial ways. If, for the sake of argument, Tanada is a very capable playwright, making a film like this is like asking a Spanish man to write a novel in Tagalog. Some of the words will be right, but the rest of it is a jumbled mess.

Following in the tradition of Joven Tan's PETMALU (lol), Ako si Ninoy is a musical that follows several characters whose names spell out "Ninoy Aquino." As we follow the story of each person, the movie explains that each of their life experiences ostensibly draw parallels to something in the late Aquino's life. I say ostensibly because I take that word to mean "kinda, but not really." These attempts end up having varied results: at times the film struggles to make a connection between its characters and Aquino, while in others the film makes weird connections that doesn't help its central theme. Finally, in some instances, Tanada eschews the narrative meat that would make some of these connections work, expecting the audience to just assume a ton of shit. It comes off as very lazy.

In two instances, the plight of two characters is connected to Ninoy's decision to return to the Philippines after being exiled abroad. Ninoy's decision is a brave one; the man probably knew that he would face certain death if he returned, but knew that perhaps it would be a catalyst for people to rebel against the administration. The stakes aren't as dire in the film's case: in one, Noli (Johnrey Rivas) is an OFW working abroad for the sake of his family. In the other, Nanding (Bodjie Pascua) is a war vet who is spending his twilight years in America. Both go home because they miss their families, and the film shows this as the primary connection to Ninoy, who went home because he... missed the Philippines I guess? Granted, Noli's decision to come home and try to make it here is an act of bravery, because there are far fewer opportunities to make it here, but how? That severance money Noli's employer gives him isn't going to last him a year, tops - tuition and food's going to wipe it out sooner or later. Maybe Noli invests it in a local business or something, but Ako si Ninoy doesn't show us any of that because it's lazy. As for Nanding, he goes home because he feels like a second class citizen in America... and that's it. Nothing about how veterans like him get support from either of the governments he fought for in WWII, or the plight of immigrants in the US (is he a TNT?) partly because - wait for it - the film's lazy, OR because the film simply doesn't have the time to show it. So why show it at all? To complete the spelling of "Ninoy Aquino?"

In another story, Miss Nunez (Nicole Laurel) is an excellent teacher at a private university who learns that another teacher has sexually assaulted one of her students, Ingrid (Cassy Legaspi.) She escalates the complaint to the dean (Pinky Amador), who dismisses the complaint because she "wants things to be beautiful" or some inane shit. There are obvious parallels that compare Nunez to a certain widow president and the dean to a certain shoe loving despot, but the comparisons ruin the central premise of the film. We expect Miss Nunez to elevate her complaint to the administration and get the guy fired, right? RIGHT? NOPE!!! She sings and dances about how it's unfair, and that's it. We later see her being promoted to dean by the board because the school board thought the old dean sucked. She didn't escalate her complaint further! She didn't fight for her student and just silently took it! Nothing about getting the pervy teacher arrested or held accountable for his actions! I guess it tracks given how many of the martial law era people weren't held accountable in '86 onwards but damn. It's a bad look. The point of making heroic comparisons to Ninoy is that he fought against a system that oppressed him and his people, even if it cost him everything. Miss Nunez basically did nothing and was passively pushed into a position of power, personally costing her nothing.

And what about Ingrid, the student? Did she participate in any action to get the teacher who raped her fired? Maybe, but again, the film doesn't show us any of it, nor does it say anything about it during her graduation speech. The assault is basically a plot device, and when the film didn't have any need for it, it's gone.

Another story centers around Yosef (Joaquin Domagoso, and lol at that casting decision). Yosef is a popular actor in this universe, which tells me that the people in the world of this film have no taste whatsoever. There is little conflict or purpose to his story, and his connection to Ninoy is him bravely leaving the industry to... study? Really? Is THAT it? As an actor, the film could have shown him using his stardom to advocate for causes, or to fight against a system that permits historical distortion and propaganda to happen, or to make films that are socially aware, but the film's solution to his problem is for him to leave the industry and study? And what does he do with the new things he learned? Hell if I know, because that's the last we see of him!

Perhaps the least weird of the stories are about Andeng (Arielle Abarientos), a worker who goes on strike for the sake of her retrenched colleagues, Quentin (Mario Mortel), an activist who fights for the marginalized, and Oliver (JM Yusores), a journalist about to release an expose on a corrupt senator. Thematically, they're okay, but the problem lies in the film giving us the background and none of the follow through for most of these. Quentin and Andeng's stories are  basically limited to only 2-3 scenes of any import, and we never really know what impact Oliver's actions have on the senator, if any.

I don't think we should be spoonfed plot elements in films, but at the same time I don't think giving us incomplete ingredients and asking us to cook a meal is any fair or good either.

Now the film isn't all bad; JK Labajo puts in an earnest performance as Ninoy. Even when he's singing to a lightbulb, you know the man's putting in the best he can.

I'm willing to give a pass to the film's many technical shortcomings. The mixing in some songs are uneven (in particular, Bodjie Pascua's voice in his number is drowned out). Perhaps due to technical limitations a large portion of the film is green screened, such as when Bodjie Pascua solemnly salutes a jpeg.

The film wastes a lot of its time establishing stories then abandoning them just for the sake of spelling two words. It's frankly ridiculous.

I'm also willing to give a pass to the inherent silliness of musicals, but when the fundamental structure of the film is flawed, the finished product, despite the best efforts of everyone involved, isn't going to turn out great. In a time where horrible films that tell lies and distort historical truth are put out in cinemas, this isn't exactly a great way to put the truth's best foot forward. Thankfully, there are other, far better films about the man and the oppressive system he was fighting against, as well as narratives and documentaries about common Filipinos during the Martial Law era and afterwards that show true bravery in the face of mortal peril.

Feb Digest 1: Ten Little Mistresses, Latay

I've talked here and there about how Filipinos are obsessed with the mistress or kabit film, in that it perhaps reflects audiences' desires for drama and conflict where, ostensibly, no "actual" people are harmed. In Ten Little Mistresses, the first original Filipino film for the Amazon Prime streaming service, Jun Lana pushes that notion to the limit - like mistresses, well, here's ten of them! - while also questioning the very idea of these films in the first place.

Ten Little Mistresses introduces each of the titular mistresses with the same pomp and bombast as a South Indian action star (or a member of the Suicide Squad) with matching costume to boot. They've all been invited at the behest of their lover, the filthy rich Valentin (John Arcilla), who wishes to tell them something important. His announcement, however, comes as a shock to the ten: Valentin has taken in an eleventh lover, the  blue-eyed majordomo Lilith (Eugene Domingo) and plans to marry her. The ceremonies are interrupted by Valentin's untimely death, and everyone in the house is a suspect. As the mystery behind the murder unravels, everyone (especially Lilith) comes closer to a very uncomfortable truth.

While the film's promotion constantly emphasizes its large and talented ensemble cast, in terms of tone this leans close to Eugene Domingo's other comedies and takes large inspiration from Filipino camp classics such as Joey Gosiengfiao's 1980 classic Temptation Island. The film takes great pleasure in having each of these characters riff off of each other, their humorous asides being some of the best parts of the film. At the same time, there are similarities in structure to Lana's far more serious Barber's Tales (also starring Domingo), in which the lead character comes to a realization and learns the meaning of dissenting against a broken system. Here, Lilith discovers (if not the existence, the breadth and depth) of the patriarchal system that has chained her and her fellow paramours. Each of the ten mistresses are accomplished and successful in their own right, yet they rely on a man (who is, in some cases, twice their age) for their needs. The movie never fails to ask why. "Maybe it's love, maybe [I'm just stupid,]" quips Babet (Marietta Subong), one of Valentin's first mistresses. The far younger Coco (Iana Bernardez) remarks on this too: despite being acutely aware of the system, she can't help but participate in it. Perhaps some of us have asked the same questions ourselves when we watch this: what makes this man worthy of the love of ten women? Why are they wasting their time doting on a fellow that 1) perhaps treats them more as trophies than people and 2) will easily leave them for his next conquest? The same questions can be asked of the genre in general - the film being a deconstruction of the genre as much as it is a parody.

It is fitting that Lana gives Lilith that name - Lilith, after all, was the first wife of Adam before Eve came along, the first wife who was cast out of the garden of Eden because she chose not to obey Adam. In the film's conclusion, Lilith gains a sort of emancipation for herself and all the other women in Valentin's house, casting herself out of a false paradise where her existence is forever tied to someone else. 

Ralston Jover's Latay has an interesting history: originally produced a few years ago, the film made the rounds on the festival circuit before finally debuting in local cinemas, more than two years after it was produced. It bills itself as a story about a battered husband but the film delves a little deeper than that. Though flawed, it goes into interesting places.

Olan (Allen Dizon) is the titular battered husband of the story. His wife Lori (Lovi Poe) inflicts all sorts of physical and emotional violence on him. He tries to seek comfort in an old flame (Mariel de Leon) but she's already with someone else. Lori doesn't take to this perceived indiscretion kindly and retaliates with even more violence. And Olan isn't the best of husbands either: he is a drunkard, he shirks his responsibilities and is annoyed and jealous at Lori's friends.

The film shows the condition of battered husbands like Olan, as well as his lack of support from either friends and family. But the thing that Latay explores more is the environment that causes people like Olan and Lori to exist. Olan and Lori's parents are just as bad as they are: Olan's dad (Soliman Cruz) turns to drinking after his wife left him, and Lori's mother (Snooky Serna) is perpetually strapped for cash, ill-mannered and lacks respect for her children (or for anyone but herself, really). More than just a film about domestic violence, Latay is a film about violence itself, how poverty molds it, how people are surrounded by it day after day, and how the heritage of violence is passed on from parent to child. 

Feb Vivamax Digest: Tag-Init, Bela Luna

 

Martin (Clifford Pusing) is a teenager spending his summer vacation in Batangas. While his brother Chino (Ali Asistio) and friend Paolo (Aerol Carmelo) mess around with sexually open Nadine (Yen Durano), Martin grows enamored of Adele (Franki Russell), the mistress of a well-known politician. Adele has her own hangups and she doesn't quite know her place in her romantic partner's life.

In his review of the film, Mario Bautista likens Joey Reyes' Tag-Init to a Robert Mulligan film (he doesn't specify which film, which might either be a typo or he just forgot, but all signs point to Summer of '42, starring Jennifer O'Neill.) Aside from the basic plot, the similarities end there: Tag-Init does not have the historical specificity of its purported source material, nor are most of the main characters interesting enough - except perhaps for Yen Durano's Nadine, who gets more scenes (and people) to do.

The two main protagonists of this dull affair are the worst offenders. Martin, in between masturbatory segues that leave his character cross eyed in the shower like a rejected Pee Wee Herman character, is about as exciting as watching paint dry, and Franki Russell delivers her lines with the same aplomb as a text-to-speech bot. Particularly egregious is a scene where her lover has a sudden heart attack, and she reacts to the situation as if her probably-about-to-die lover had just stubbed his toe. By the end of the film, where Martin, having come of age, wistfully waxes poetic about that one special summer where he met the robotic woman of his dreams, it gets exceedingly hard to care at anything that's happened at all. 

The film is a testament to the fact that good acting creates pathos and viewer engagement, and without it, even the most promising of concepts turn turbid. That's not to say that everything is bad, however; the sex scenes are shot nicely, and drift closer to hardcore than most of the soft core titles on Vivamax - I mean, this is the guy behind the notoriously explicit Live Show (2000), so he knows his stuff. That compliment doesn't take my assessment of the movie very far, however - expect clips from the film to show up in random porn sites soon, if not already.

The latest Mac Alejandre - Ricky Lee collaboration, Bela Luna, begins with Luna (Angeli Khang), a bespectacled high school teacher, as she jumps off the building of her school. During her protracted descent (she should probably have hit the ground 20 seconds ago) she considers her situation and suddenly flies off in the air. The scene looks incredibly tacky and not well done, but it does make sense in context - in retrospect, the execution does not do the screenplay justice. That is because in its subsequent runtime, Bela Luna transforms into a fascinating meta examination of authorship and unfortunate compromises for the sake of art.

The story picks up with Bela (also Angeli Khang), a filmmaker and scriptwriter who is tasked with helping her philandering boyfriend Arnold (Kiko Estrada) write his first movie. Bela is more successful than her boyfriend and for all intents and purposes more talented, but she seems content to play second fiddle, oblivious to his indiscretions. Meanwhile Bela finds herself fighting with the film's producer Mr. Dizon (Francis Mata) over several creative decisions: namely, Mr. Dizon wants to spice things up with sex while Bela wants to write without those restrictions. The movie in question? A film about a teacher named Luna...

The push and pull interplay between creatives and producers feels relevant (or at least resonant) at least within the framework of the Vivamax production model, where creatives are allegedly given guidelines to follow (e.g. x number of sex scene per y minutes, budget and running time limitations) for their creative works. It is obvious that Luna is an avatar of her creator Bela, as much as the two are connected to screenwriter Ricky Lee himself. Bela infuses her protagonist with little features of her own life - her issues with neglectful or absent parents, or her desire to be truly loved, even though it comes from the weirdest of places. To write, Bela (and by extension, Lee) posits, is a means to liberate the self, and the right to do so should not be denied.

Granted, Bela Luna only partially manages to escape from its own production restrictions: there is still a sex scene every dozen or so minutes, and while Lee and Alejandre get a bit imaginative in their depiction of those scenes (often in metafictional sequences in the spirit of kindred films such as Last Fool Show (2018)) the production's lack of resources is quite profoundly felt in some parts.

Still, given what it did with so little and despite some first act weirdness, Bela Luna came off as a present surprise. It's definitely one of my favorite Alejandre-Lee collabirations.

January Digest 3: Hello, Universe!, The First Slam Dunk, Spellbound

 

Ariel (Janno Gibbs) is a small-time baranggay basketball coach. Many years ago, he literally had a shot that could've changed his life forever. But he missed that shot, and years later, despite the presence of family and friends that love him, he has a lot of problems of his proverbial plate.

The story of Hello, Universe! Is fairly familiar, if a bit cliched - the all-too familiar tale of a man who doesn't know what he has until he loses it all. In this case, the magical catalyst that sets off the events of the film is a supernatural Taxi Driver (Benjie Paras,) who literally allows him to shoot his shot and change his life. When he wakes up, he gets everything he ever wanted: he's a coach working his dream job, he has a big house and a hot wife. But Ariel soon pines for his original family and learns the truth behind the adage that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.

The premise leans a lot on nostalgia and basketball - various PBA players make cameos in the film, and the movie pays homage to 90's comedy films and the 1989 fantasy basketball film Last Two Minutes. It doesn't feel like appropriation and the film sets out to make its own thing, though its reliance on old fashioned humor that hasn't aged well in the past 30 years works a bit to its detriment.

Xian Lim has certainly improved from his earlier directorial attempt, Tabon, having had a little more experience directing a couple of television series. He feels much more confident here and he's slowly developing his own unique style. With that said, while a lot of his directorial decisions in Hello, Universe! work out, a lot just don't. Most noticeable are his choice of shots: Lim chooses to shoot his subjects in closeup, which does work in certain situations but when the point is shooting a basketball game, a lot of the action is missed. Perhaps he was trying to emulate, say, Kurosawa-esque action framing ala the horse scenes in Seven Samurai, but I don't think it works particularly well in this context. I can't believe I just made that comparison, but here we are. Whenever either team makes a successful shot, Lim chooses an off-center shot of the basket which just looks off. Heck, even Last Two Minutes feels better with its shot choices. And in the final scene of the film, even though there were several great ways to cut, it just kept on going and going.

I'll give them this: it's certainly a great effort, even if a lot of things in the film come up short. But there's definitely improvement there, and a decent cast and a simple premise make up for most if Hello, Universe's shortcomings.

Speaking of basketball, perhaps no other sports anime has made a cultural impact in our basketball-loving country as much as Takehiko Inoue's Slam Dunk (perhaps Hajime no Ippo ranks a distant second), airing on several local channels (including cable channel AXN). The anime ended just as the final arc of the manga was about to begin, with our scrappy yet immensely talented Shohoku team making their debut in the national inter-high basketball tournament. It's a shame, too, as the final match of the manga, an intense battle between Shohoku and reigning inter-high champion Sannoh never got animated... until now. But The First Slam Dunk isn't just about the Shohoku-Sannoh match; it's also a decent sports film and a decent family drama as well.

It's not common for a manga director to be able to direct their own anime adaptation. Some work on the story or script, while some are heavily involved with the production but do not helm the entire thing.  But when the mangaka/director has enough experience with both industries (Hayao Miyazaki for Nausicaa, Katsuhiro Otomo for Akira) the results are pretty astounding. In this case, Takehiko Inoue himself took over the production for this film, and he manages to translate his detailed, gorgeous art style into gorgeous hybrid 2D/3D animation. In particular, the final few minutes of the film - basically the last two to three possessions of the game - perfectly capture the intensity of those last moments.

One of the most substantial changes in The First Slam Dunk from its source material is its shift of point of view character, from hotheaded, self-proclaimed genius Hanamichi Sakuragi to calm and collected Ryota Miyagi. In the manga, Miyagi isn't given as much focus as his teammates and is mostly considered a supporting character. But in this film, he's pretty much the central character. Inoue expands on Miyagi's backstory and explores his motivation for playing basketball - it's not erroneous to say this is a family drama as much as it is a sports drama.

I had reservations on how this all would play out; at its very core, Slam Dunk is Sakuragi's story, and even though Miyagi's the point guard (essentially the guy directing the plays and making scoring decisions on the court) Sakuragi makes most of the crucial decisions in the game. But ultimately I think Inoue and his team made it work, with a few caveats. For viewers unfamiliar with the series, The First Slam Dunk is a wildly entertaining sports film about a man standing on and moving on from the shadow of his brother; for fans of the series, it's a wonderfully animated conclusion to a much-loved story that people have waited for at least two decades to finish. 

After the wildly successful adaptations of South Korean films Miracle in Cell No. 7 (2013) and Miss Granny (2014), Viva Films has gone all in with subsequent adaptations to mixed results: A Hard Day (2021) had a modest amount of success in the 2021 edition of MMFF, while films like Always (2022) were tepid affairs that made little, if any, impact. The latest such adaptation is Spellbound, a remake of the 2011 film Chilling Romance directed by Hwang In-ho. Hwang's original film isn't exactly the best of films, often suffering from tonal inconsistencies and a so-so romance that's only saved by its quirky humor. Spellbound is almost a shot for shot (or at least, scene for scene) remake of the original film, and thus shares the same weaknesses and strengths as the source material.

Yuri (Bela Padilla) works as a magician's assistant. She has difficulty forming social relationships because she frequently sees ghostly apparitions. Her boss, Victor (Marco Gumabao) wants to form a relationship with her and discovers her secret. Together, the two of them help spirits gain closure while they figure out the ins and outs of their burgeoning relationship.

It's certainly possible to make a horror comedy using this concept, but the film can't seem to decide, and isn't too good at either one. The quirkiness of the original seems to be lost here, even though things are mostly the same. Bela Padilla deserves some kudos for her performance, but I found it difficult to find chemistry between her and Marco Gumabao, even though this isn't even their first outing together.

In a world where we are slowly getting re-acclimated to a more open, face to face world, the plot and themes of Spellbound - especially in how its main character gradually opens up her heart to others after a long period of isolation and solitude - may find a little resonance with the post pandemic crowd. But perhaps in this case, a little divergence from the source material wouldn't hurt.

Japanese Film Festival Philippines 2023 Festival Report

 

After two years of virtual screenings, the Japanese Film Festival (previously known as Eiga Sai) has returned to cinemas. Here are a few thoughts on the ten films that screened as part of this festival. (As you may have surmised, this is gonna be a bit long).

I fully admit that Tetsu Maeda's And So, The Baton Was Passed made me emotional, especially during its latter part. Brimming with near-mawkish sentimentality, Tetsu Maeda (A Banana? At This Time of Night?) is no stranger to melodrama, and his directing chops shine through here. However, it is the film's depiction of one of its central characters where the film falls by the wayside.

Yuko (Mei Nagano) is a young woman with a very colorful family background. Her mother, Rika (Satomi Ishihara) struggles to stay in one place and often disappears from Yuko's life. In the interim, Rika leaves her daughter in the care of various husbands who treat her like her own. Yuko's "last" father, Morimiya (Kei Tanaka) is dedicated to Yuko even if the two aren't related.

The dramatic center of And So, The Baton Was Passed is Rika (and ripples formed by her absence from Yuko's life), and despite the film's best efforts to excuse her actions (especially in the film's final act), she still comes off as a selfish, flighty woman who denies her daughter agency for her own self-interests. Much ado is placed on what Rika really thinks of her daughter, but Rika never stops to think about what Yuko wants from her mother - and based on her words on the matter, all she really wanted was for her mother to be there.

Still, taking the film in good faith, there's a lot in here about found families that exist in spite of bad parents and neglect. It's elevated by some great performances by Mei Nagano and yes, even Satomi Ishihara, despite the fact that her character got the short end of the stick narratively.

Hitomi Saito (Riho Yoshioka) is a former public servant who quit her job to work as an anime director. After working several jobs in the industry, she finally catches her big break: an opportunity to direct a series on her own, on a prime time slot. However, she's in for some competition: the competing network is debuting a show of its own, directed by the famed genius Chiharu Oji (Tomoya Nakamura), who has returned after a long dry spell.

Making anime is hard. That should be more than obvious and even more so if you've seen Kohei Yoshino's Anime Supremacy!, a film that delves into the nitty gritty of anime production. It is made clear that no anime is made by one person alone; it is the product of a dedicated team of artists, animators, colorists, actors and producers who work insane, punishing schedules in order to make something wonderful.

While the film's central premise on the surface is a ratings competition between two shows (incidentally, a magical girl show vs. a mecha anime), Anime Supremacy! is a film about the process of creating art, and all the compromises and difficulties that accompany that process. Regardless of who wins the fight, what an artist truly wants is to be able to reach the hearts of others with the things they create, even if it's just one person. People curious about the ins and outs of anime production will find this a treat, as actual industry people helped consult for the film.

Director Yoshino, himself a newbie to directing, manages to show that familiar artistic struggle quite well, and it's obvious that the film, too, is a labor of love: there are lots of easter eggs and references to various anime (points to whoever got the Amuro Ray Gundam reference), and cameos from various seiyuu (voice actors) such as Sho Hayami, Kana Hanazawa and more. 

There is something incredibly comforting about routine: something safe in ordinariness, in the idea that no matter how drastically our lives may change, we return to familiar motions. It is also through routine and ritual that we observe the ephemera of living (in Japanese - mono no aware), of the impermanence of all things. Routine, thus, is a quiet act of rebellion then, a way of fighting back the chaos of life.

Noriko (Haru Kuroki) and her cousin Michiko (Mikako Tabe) join a tea ceremony class on the urging of Noriko's mother. As the film follows Noriko as she learns the craft, her life changes in ways both happy and sad. Even while old friends move on, new friends come and life goes on, tea ceremony becomes the one constant in her life.

As with many if not most slice of life films, Every Day a Good Day doesn't have any conflict or major dramatic hook; if there's anything close to an "antagonist" in this film, it's time - as it inexorably goes on, Noriko sometimes feels left behind. Her various circumstances in life - and the way it goes to places she'd never imagine - does not traverse a straight line.

And while most of the movie goes on its gentle way, the ending (one that involves a substantial timeskip) feels a bit rushed. But maybe that's just my desire to have the movie keep on going. I guess it's just that relaxing.

In the Philippines, I've heard of crime victims sometimes describing their ordeal as being hypnotized, compelled to do things that they wouldn't have done otherwise. The most successful criminals are the charismatic ones who owe their success to their ability to control and manipulate others in order to evade accountability, or to do their dirty work for them.

The first dozen or so minutes of Kazuya Shiraishi's Lesson in Murder pulls no punches in showing how undeniably evil Yamato Haimura (Sadawo Abe) is. He abducts his victims, mostly in their late teens, and inflicts all sorts of torture on them before cremating them and scattering the ashes in his garden.

Haimura then contacts Masaya Kakei (Kenshi Okada), a law student and former customer at the bakery Haimura used to ingratiate himself to his victims. The convicted serial killer tells him that his last victim, a woman in her 20's, is not his doing, and Kakei investigates whether this is true.

As Kakei comes closer and closer to the truth, it's made clear that his investigation into Haimura is transforming him, molding Kakei into Haimura's image. The best parts of this come during the visitation scenes, where Haimura's reflection overlaps Kakei's face - visually similar to Kore'eda's The Third Murder (2018). In a way, we are swept in as much as Kakei is, the film trying to place doubt in what is true and what is not. It's also helped immensely by Sadawo Abe's performance. I mean, just look at that poster - he manages to create such a terrifying character even with only a picture.

The film's surprise ending only goes to show how pervasive a cancer such a malicious influence can be, digging deep into places we least expect.

Many films have been made that deal with the aftermath of the 3/11 earthquake and tsunami, a horrific disaster that led to the deaths of almost 20,000 people, the displacement of many more, and the disappearance of thousands. Takahisa Zeze's In the Wake begins in the aftermath of that disaster, with people slowly trying to pick up the pieces in the face of unspeakable tragedy.

The film then picks up in the present day, where detective Tomashino (Hiroshi Abe) is investigating the serial murders of several social welfare workers. He soon fixates on Yasuhisa Tone (Takeru Sato), who had attacked the city welfare office a couple of years ago. Through intercut flashbacks, we learn more about Tone and the family he finds in the aftermath of the tsunami.

In the Wake shows the myriad ways a disaster can impact the lives of survivors many years after cities are rebuilt. The magnitude of grief made in that short time can last people the rest of their lives. Some may think that Japan, with its robust social systems in healthcare, would have an equally robust system in social welfare. But as we see in the events of In the Wake, that's hardly the case: people fall through the cracks because of bureaucratic insufficiencies and a general lack of resources. There is also a sense of self-sufficiency and independence among the older generation that prevents some from seeking help in the first place.

The inherent tragedy of In the Wake is the fact that everyone in the film is a victim. In the face of inscrutable natural phenomena, we are all left damaged.

Films and stories about boxing haven't always followed the pursuit of victory (heck, even the first Rocky ended with him losing to Apollo Creed), instead mostly concentrating on the love of the sport and the circumstances surrounding its characters. Blue is no different, following the lives of three people who have taken up the sport. Urita (Kenichi Matsuyama) hasn't won a match in ages, but still perseveres in the boxing gym. His best friend Ogawa (Masahiro Higashide) is the gym's ace and the first real contender for a championship in ages, but it's quite clear he's showing early signs of punch-drunk syndrome. And finally, Narasaki (Tokio Emoto) is a complete amateur who joins the gym to impress a girl.

The narrative strength of Blue - aside from its heartfelt depiction of the camaraderie among the aspiring boxers in the gym - lies in the things it elects not to show, resisting the urge to dive deep into melodramatic territory. There are hints to history between Urita, Ogawa and Ogawa's girlfriend Chika (Fumino Kimura), and complex depths to their relationship. How deep are Urita's feelings? Is Ogawa attached more to Chika or the sport? But instead of merely showing us, it uses those bits of history to create great character moments between the two.

Of the three leads, Matsuyama's performance as the disarming and humble Urita stands out the most, but in many ways this is also Tokio Emoto's story, bringing moments of levity in an otherwise serious affair.

Ultimately, as matches are fought and won (or lost), Blue truly is more about the journey than the destination. The only thing (figuratively, and sometimes even literally) stopping one from getting up after getting knocked down is one's self.

Out of all the animation directors of his generation, Masaaki Yuasa feels like he has the most unique and divergent style. Perhaps that is why I felt resonance in the characters of his latest work, Inu-oh, and his own career: the musicians and artists of Inu-oh create art that, in its anachronism, clashes with the dominant (and state-sponsored art) of the day.

A little background: in the late 1100s the Minamoto and Taika (a.k.a. Heike) clans fought at Dan-no-ura in the Strait of Shimonoseki. The battle ended with a Minamoto victory, with the Taika being virtually wiped out. Accounts of the battle and the stories of the Taika that remain are controlled by the Ashikaga shogunate, descendants of the Minamoto.

It is here where we meet our two protagonists; the titular Inu-oh (real life rock singer-songwriter Avu-chan from Queen Bee), a cursed yet immensely talented son of a Noh performer who hides his appearance behind his mask, and Tomona (Mirai Moriyama), a blind biwa player who has suffered injustices from the Ashikaga clan in the past. The two meet and develop their own brand of music, far removed from the austere music of their current time. Yes, Inu-oh is a musical, one whose sounds draw from psychedelic and punk rock. Urged by the spirits of the Taira, Inu-oh and Tomona tell the stories of forgotten ghosts.

The film is a testament to the power of art, how it can be used to tell the truth in service of something greater - to remember things that would otherwise be forgotten. In performing his art, Inu-oh becomes more and more human, as if to say art itself helps us find our humanity. The ending, abrupt as it is, is bittersweet in that regard, a tribute of sorts to all the stories we have lost over the centuries.

No Japanese film fest would be complete without what I call a 'ganbare!' film - a story in which a (usually unwitting) protagonist is sucked into a niche hobby and learns to love it. For this year, the film that fits that criteria is also an anime. Based on the manga series by Kana Ozawa, Blue Thermal follows Tsuru Tamaki (Mayu Hotta), a literature student who finds herself in her university's aviation club. Here, she learns how to fly gliders and finds she's a natural at this sort of thing.

I honestly find these kinds of movies endlessly fascinating, if only for the opportunity to learn about something new. In this case, I would gladly watch 12 episodes of this, no doubt. And that's kind of the problem: condensing a five-volume manga into a feature length film is quite a challenge, considering everything that happens in the film. In the space of 103 minutes, Tsuru goes from one interscholastic challenge to another, not quite settling in one event before moving on to the next aviation activity. The narrative meat of these kinds of films lies in the training and preparation involved, and the film just doesn't have time for that.

The film tries its best to explain all the technical knowledge needed to understand the competitions, but it probably would have been better served over the course of a series instead of a film. And, due to limited time and resources, a major plot thread in the third act doesn't feel as emotionally resonant as it should.

While it's a fine intro to the manga and is very entertaining, Blue Thermal had a lot of its potential limited by the form it is in. Still, it's a decent effort.

If there's any country that has made an art of the apology, it is Japan. There are so many ways to say sorry, many phrases to use, gestures to perform, depending on the severity of the offending action and the level of guilt and regret. But apologies are not only ways to seek forgiveness from others, it is also a way to assuage one's own guilt, to forgive one's self. And as we find out in Keisuke Yoshida's Intolerance (orig. title, 空白, "Blank") sometimes forgiving one's self is the hardest kind of forgiveness.

After a horrific accident takes the life of middle schooler Kanon (Aoi Ito, in a quietly unassuming but substantial role), her father Mitsuru (Arata Furuta) seeks answers. This isn't a sappy melodrama; Mitsuru is, for all intents and purposes, a very unpleasant fellow. Stubborn to a fault, irascible and imposing, he's not the best father to Kanon (an understatment), and he drives away anyone who'd even dare to help him. Yoshida isn't new to writing very unlikeable characters; his previous film Come on Irene (2018) had one of the most unlikeable protagonists for any movie in recent memory. But in this one, Yoshida reels it in for Mitsuru: it's obvious that most if not all of his actions stem from his own grief: his actions, no matter how erratic or aggressive, come from a place of trying to process his own guilt. He has missed a chance to redeem himself as a father while his daughter was alive, and now she is dead, and he is grasping at straws, at anything really, to hold on to that idea that he understood his child.

In Intolerance, grief is an uncontrollable monster, fueled and enhanced by one's regrets and one's guilt. Yoshida shows how it can tear a small community apart, and it also shows how one event can impact the lives of others in profound ways. It also tangentially looks at how the media stokes outrage out of this grief without empathy to the parties involved. Grief is paralyzing, all-encompassing fire. No amount of apologies can make up for it. But that fire grows a little smaller over time; perhaps still as fiery, but a little easier to contain.

Mamoru Hosoda has at times held a particular fascination on the dichotomy of the real and virtual self - in Summer Wars (2009), Hosoda showed how powerful social connections are (political, societal, familial) even in the presence of a virtual world. In Mirai (2018), there is the divide between the idealized image of parents in the eyes of their children versus what parents truly are: flawed and fallible human beings.

His latest effort, Belle, is a (re)construction of the Beauty and the Beast fairy tale. Suzu (singer-songwriter Kaho Nakamura) is a talented musician... and she'd probably be performing now, had it not been for a traumatic event involving her mother's death when she was a child. She discovers U, a near-future social media app where your appearance is determined by your personality and biometrics. She takes up the online persona "Bell" (the English translation of her given name) and uses the app to sing to her heart's content. However, she comes across Ryu/The Beast (Takeru Sato,) a mysterious U outcast who is hunted down by a self-appointed police force led by Justin (Toshiyuki Morikawa).

Belle shares thematic similarities with Summer Wars, in that the characters of both films find the value of forming connections with other people - in the case of Belle, even strangers. U may be a means of escape, but meaningful connections are done with one's true self. Just as Belle in the original fairytale loved the prince lurking inside the Beast's monstrous form, communication, empathy and a true desire to understand the person behind the screen is what liberates us from the need to hide behind masks and be our true selves.

***

The 2023 Japanese Film Festival ends its Shangri-la run today, but will continue in SM Cinemas and cinematheques across the Philippines. More info at: https://japanesefilmfestph.jfmo.org.ph/.

Present Confusion Jan Digest 2: Girlfriend na Pwede na, I Love Lizzy

 

Pam (Kim Molina) is an online entrepreneur. She thinks she has a great relationship with her filmmaker boyfriend Jiggs (Gab Lagman)... that is, until she overhears him implying that in terms of girlfriends, she's just okay. They break up but Pam still wants to be in a relationship with him, so she enlists the help of buko seller Isko (Jerald Napoles) to act as her new boyfriend to jealous trap Jiggs into getting back together. That sounded really silly in hindsight as I typed it, but I swear it works somehow.

In the post love team space left by the tail end of the 2010's, local couple-centric romantic films have changed - while still structurally the same, they're beginning to explore different things, straying away from the wattpad paradigm of a decade past. Kim Molina and Jerald Napoles represent a different kind of 'love team', if that term even holds weight these days - a hilarious couple with endless chemistry, and one that's willing to be a little bit more mischievous, a little more raunchy than the usual suspects. It's safe to say that they carry this film from something that is "pwede na" to something that's more than decent.

That's not all, of course - the film touches on a lot of different other things. Perhaps the most consequential is how the screenplay addresses how people assess their self worth and the worth of others, whether in a relationship or in other situations. In terms of relationships, it's perhaps best articulated in a scene where Isko tells Pam that he and Jiggs both see the same person but in different ways. Pam underestimated Isko when she first saw him (and ascribed certain class-based stereotypes that she later regretted), but came to know him as a dependable, (mostly) honest person with a heart of gold. Knowing whether you are valued or not in a relationship is important because if you aren't, then why are you settling for less?

While it is conventionally structured for the most part, the central pair of Girlfriend na Pwede na elevate the material. Maybe just a little bit, but a little bit can sometimes be more than enough.

I've never truly understood the reasoning behind the story of Job. Caught in a cosmic bet between god and the devil, poor Job had to suffer the loss of his entire family and everything that was his in the material world. Job kept his faith and thanks to that (and maybe because the devil owed god a few bucks or something) he regained everything he lost, and more. Not his resurrected family, mind you -  a whole new one (in my recollection, the Islamic version of the story has Job's original family returned to him, which makes me like that version slightly better.) Ostensibly this is a lesson about the power of faith and how god always has a plan for us. But for me, god's actions in this presumably fictitious tale strike me as the actions not of an infinitely loving god, but one that is capricious, petty, and amoral - using his creations as pawns in a greater cosmic game of ultimately little significance. The biblical Job may have had descendants for many generations, but his first family remains dead, corpses rotting in the ground, disembodied souls subjected to suffering just to make a point. If there's any moral to be had for me in that story, it is that divine justice and justice on earth are completely different things.

Jeff (Carlo Aquino) goes to Legazpi, Albay to unwind. While there, he meets Lizzy (Barbie Imperial), a tour guide/alcoholic who seems intent on doing a Liver Cirrhosis any% speedrun. They hit it off and sparks fly. There is one problem, however: Jeff's a seminarian in regency, on his way towards a long career in priesthood. 

The buildup to I Love Lizzy is pretty good, perhaps some of the best material RC Delos Reyes has made in his body of directorial work. Imperial and Aquino have the chemistry to pull it off and some interesting character beats that complicate and give depth to their burgeoning relationship. Jeff and Lizzy feel like fully fleshed out, warts-and-all humans. The buildup from "first meet up" to "doing cute things together" to the emotional climax of their love story is very well done.

The one thing that turned me off from the film is the film's third act. The film could have worked just as well with its message that sometimes God helps us help others in not so conventional ways. Instead, it goes with a route that seems to borrow heavily from Graham Greene's The End of the Affair, famously adapted into a 1999 film of the same name starring Ralph Fiennes and Julianne Moore. In both, one party makes a deal with the divine in exchange for someone else's well being. It looks romantic on paper, and it will probably hold true for people wrapped up in antiquated, masochistic, fear-driven conceptions of faith. But for me, this is a film about a love triangle where a selfish and petty god is the antagonistic third party. Even the last scene of I Love Lizzy, which draws heavily from hugot tropes, feels like a taunt from that same god: that love is meaningless, and everyone, especially Jeff, belongs only to me. It's a symptom that's not only present in this film, but numerous other faith adjacent productions that think that a deity that actively inflicts suffering is actually good somehow. I am not an  atheist, and I don't think I will be anytime soon, and I don't believe God is like that.

This doesn't necessarily mean the film is bad - I totally get that this is more a me problem than a film problem. In my own ending to this film, Jeff teams up with Lucifer and storms heaven to exterminate the heavenly host, ultimately slaying the evil god that wronged him. But I don't think MAVX has the budget to do that. I sincerely hope that this isn't a faith based film, because if anything I've probably lost several million ligtas points at this juncture. Haha.

Present Confusion Jan Digest 1: That Boy in the Dark, Panibugho

 

In 2017, then 18 year old Brooklyn Beckham released a photography book titled What I See. The son of David and Victoria Beckham, Beckham studied photography in 2017, dropping out in his first year. The teenage photographer's book is hilariously inept, filled with amateurish pictures and even more amateurish captions. Perhaps the most memed about picture in the collection is a picture of an elephant, or at least that's what Beckham labels it as: the picture itself, thanks to him taking the picture in suboptimal conditions, looks like the shadows of a disembodied erect penis and testicles. That's all fine and good, to be honest: amateur photographers make mistakes like these all the time. The thing is, all these pictures are featured in an actual professionally published book that costs money. "Nepo babies," as the current discourse calls them, refer to people who probably would not have gained the popularity and opportunities that they have if not for their rich and/or influential parents.

Adolfo Alix Jr.'s That Boy in the Dark is touted as a showcase of the acting talents of Joaquin Domagoso, son of former mayor Isko Moreno (and star of such films as Tukso, Layuan Mo Ako 2.) The younger Domagoso doesn't have a lot of film credits - this is only his second feature film appearance, the first being a semi-supporting role in Perry Escaño's Caught in the Act, where he isn't even the most interesting among the teen cast. Yet somehow here he is in his first lead role. I wonder how that happened?

Domagoso plays Knight, a teenage boy who has been progressively losing his sight since a tragic car accident. Over the rest of the movie, we find out that he has been seeing (and hearing) strange apparitions from out of sight, which hints at a dark past between his family and a mysterious figure.

For a film meant to be an acting showcase for one particular actor, it's kind of telling that the actor in question is literally outacted by everyone else in the cast. Domagoso has the on-screen charisma of a wet blanket that vaguely smells like cheap cologne, whose acting range oscillates from "irritating screaming teenager who TALKS. LIKE. THIS. ALL. THE. TIME." to "whiny teenager who calls for the househelp for every minor thing." He's also not the most likeable of characters either, as the accident that causes his blindness is mostly his fault, and his lashing out at his father and grandfather doesn't exactly endear him to the audience. Acting as a visually impaired person is a challenge even for seasoned actors, and Domagoso's acting is not very convincing (the script doesn't exactly help the kid either.)

And even if we discount the idea that this is some sort of misguided vanity project, within the Adolfo Alix Jr. filmography spectrum this is more Kiko and Lala than Isda: unfinished, rushed and seemingly made as an afterthought. At a cachectic 64 minutes, there isn't much material to be had, and certain aspects of the film are obviously not done - there are two phone conversations near the end of the film where we don't hear the dubbed voice of the person on the other end of the line, instead, we hear the voice of a crew member nearby speaking the lines in question, presumably for the sound guys to dub it over later in post. Spoiler alert: the sound guys never did. It's baffling how this film made it into cinemas in its current state.

While giving the film a little leeway storywise, its made up of a lot of strange decisions. Does Knight seriously not notice that his friend mysteriously shows up at his grandpa's house, in his room, at the weirdest of times? While its understandable that some visually impaired people don't need to use walking sticks or aids in familiar places, won't Knight have difficulty in a house he has just moved into (and is presumably not used to as a blind person?) He moves around without bumping into anything like a sighted person would.

Perhaps I'm being too mean. Every actor has their own flop era - heck, it took John Lloyd Cruz a couple of movies to improve his craft. Perhaps the same can be said for the star of this film. But then again, for every kid who gets an acting showcase like this, there are a dozen other, more talented actors who probably will never get their chance to shine. The world is unfair like that sometimes.

The dark secret of That Boy in the Dark is one that is carried by Knight's family (if we're to believe the film's antagonist), yet in the end, certain members of his family are not held accountable for their actions.

Vivamax Corner: Panibugho

Iar Arondaing is a director whose visual style has never failed to captivate me. His two Cinemalaya films both display purposefulness and an intimate understanding of the filmic visual space that helps communicate his stories (that, unfortunately, do not always match the craft put into its visuals).

I was surprised to hear that he made a Vivamax film of all things: the streaming platform seems to be attracting all sorts of directors because despite its restrictions for content - Vivamax films allegedly have to have a number of guidelines in terms of turnaround time and content in order to make a profit - the service is a breeding ground (no pun intended) for strange and imaginative works that transcend and surpass genre conventions.

Because of that notion, I've decided to do a regular Vivamax review feature in this blog in order to showcase all the films coming out on the streaming service. This will hopefully be the first of many.

On paper, Panibugho ("Jealousy") sounds like an interesting premise: the three nubile daughters of a wealthy landowner come across an injured man and nurse him to recovery. However, this man is actually a rebel who lost his land and family to the sister's scheming dad (played by Soliman Cruz, no less) and vows to break the family apart. There's an interesting dynamic going on there about how stolen land and dignity is repaid with bodies, but things are not that simple. Unfortunately (?) the man does not Visitor Q everyone in the house and regain his land and family via act of congress (a.k.a. sexual congress wink wink).

Panibugho's marketing points at its casting, where the three sisters are played by real life sisters Angela Morena, Stephanie Raz and Micaella Raz. Bad news for the super pervs out there: aside from a very short dream sequence at the very beginning, there's no incest sex scenes to be had. That is the least of the film's problems.

The film looks gorgeously shot, and it's evident a lot of work was done to make the film look cinematic. Say what you want, but this film does not look like a cheap production, and it's on brand with Arondaing, who with his previous films managed to create really gorgeous frames with limited resources (one of his earlier Cinemalaya productions had to make do with its original 750k peso budget, which is absolutely microscopic in terms of local filmmaking.) The problem lies with everything else. The acting in this film is below average; out of the three sisters Angela Morena is the only one with a half decent performance; her two sisters kind of struggle to keep up with her in their scenes together. And while Kiko Estrada (horribly fake facial hair notwithstanding) is okay, his counterpart Benz Sangalang has the screamy non-charisma of a counterfeit action figure.

Panibugho isn't as bad as I thought it would be but nice visuals can only take a film so far.

Out of Context Lines:

"mas masarap kung may pampadulas"

"parang amoy mani!"

Hilarious Sex Stuff:

1. one of the Raz sisters fucks Kiko Estrada to the tune of Lyca Gairanod's Malapit na Akong Mahulog Sa Iyo, which to me is as dissonant as a scene can get (though not to hilarious Breathe Again Levels)

2. tip: if you are to use a fruit during foreplay (especially something you rub on skin), don't use bananas. Use something with juice in it, like a papaya or a citrus fruit! And for Cthulhu's sake, do not insert a half-eaten banana inside a vagina, that shit will break up inside! Cucumbers or ampalaya are better.

Present Confusion 2022 Roundup Part 2: Cinema Odds and Ends

 

I have admittedly watched less movies this year compared to the past few years, mostly due to reasons I've already outlined in the previous part of this special roundup. That hasn't stopped me from watching some really strange and sometimes wonderful things. 

I won't be posting a worst-of or unfavorite list this year because frankly, who wants some (albeit humorous) negativity in 2022? Not me. I'm Zen now.

Favorite Videos on Youtube

1. Section 8 (dir. Jon Bois/Secret Base)

Jon Bois is one of the best sportswriters living today, with the special power to tell amazing stories through data. There are so many great Dorktown films from this year but my personal favorite is Section 8, a story about a game with unusually high stakes. Bois frames the game as a thriller, a game whose outcome may literally mean life or death.

2. Line Goes Up - The Problem With NFTs (Dan Olson/Folding Ideas)

In this concise and well researched video, Dan Olson gets into why most of the time with NFTs, you're pretty much better off setting fire to your money.

3. Action Button Reviews boku no natsuyasumi (Tim Rogers/Action Button)

Action Button videos are usually multiple hours long, overly sesquipedalian, and utterly absorbing. This latest review (premiering on my birthday!) is as much an exploration of an obscure PS1 classic as it is an exploration of nostalgia, memory, and mono no aware.

4. The Man Who Tried to Fake an Element (Kevan McKay/BobbyBroccoli)

I'm not exactly a chemistry guy, but this feature length docu on scientific fraud fascinated me from start to finish. If you enjoyed this, Kit Chapman's book Superheavy is also a recommended read.

5. Disney Channel's Theme: A History Mystery (Defunctland)

Part mystery, part examination of artists and the unseen art they sometimes create, this video is another absorbing documentary about cultural artifacts that we usually dismiss out of hand.

Other videos of note include Internet Historian's Man in Cave, as well as Ray Mona's search for the lost pilot episode of an Americanized Sailor Moon.  Have fun spending an interminable number of hours watching these films!

Favorite Editing Moment of 2022

Editing is best when you don't really notice it, but this is a prominent exception. When you think of editing to music, perhaps you envision a building crescendo of music until a big, emotional moment happens.

if you've watched Your Name, this is an example (and some of you probably got slightly teary eyed remembering this)

There is one Vivamax film whose editing on one particular moment is simply unforgettable. In Raffy Francisco's Breathe Again, Joanna (Ariella Arida) falls in love with her diving instructor Robert (Tony Labrusca). She has resisted cheating on her philandering boyfriend but Robert's just too handsome. So during a very romantic trip through the islands, they start making out. Shanne Dandan's song Sandali Lang starts to play. It builds up slowly as the two ride on a boat, go to a secluded beach and, just as the music begins to hit its crescendo... it cuts to a shot of them having sex. Not tender love making or any of that shit, just straight up, bouncing up and down fucking. It is the most hilariously glorious editing decision I have ever seen.

I would like to show it to you guys (it's on Vivamax, start at around the 52 minute mark if you don't want to watch the whole movie) but it's not safe for work, so instead, I will simulate what happens in the movie, with the special participation of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson:

Favorite Arthouse Film About Social Heirarchies and Upending Them (Guest Starring Capitalism)

The answer to this is simple, and there is actually more than one answer: the numerous weird ads for State of Survival.

State of Survival is a resource management survival mobile game with gacha elements made by some Chinese company. If you've ever owned a mobile ad with apps (or don't have Ad Block for YouTube) you might have seen one of these commercials already. They almost always feature the same actors and have the same basic scenario.

The universe in which these ads take place is a strange alternate reality, where social status and prestige is determined by how well you are doing in the game. In the ad above, a would be bride is caught red handed and just about to do some sexytime with a construction worker. The groom is sad and mad, asking the bride how she could do this when he, at the urgings of his future mother-in-law, already gave her the legendary hero Lucky, who is able to kill many zombies, as a sort of dowry present! Mother in law smacks construction worker guy in the face with a small cake, when construction guy confesses that not only is he in the possession of a maxed level Lucky, he also has THREE, I repeat THREE other legendary heroes and WITHOUT SPENDING A PENNY (emphasis mine), he's "survived a hundred days in the doomsday!!" and therefore he's so much better than the groom.

With this new revelation, mother in law pushes aside would be groom and accepts construction guy as her daughter's new husband. Social hierarchies have been upended, power has been given to the workers, suck on that Karl Marx!! All thanks to promo code Nanami2022 and Treasure2022 which guarantees 400 free draws!!1!1

My favorite of these ads, actually, concerns an abusive cop:

Said abusive cop drunkenly abuses a common citizen because the cop's a part of the state apparatus and uses violence to enforce power... the 2 million power he has because he has legendary heroes Lucky, Becca and Nanami, that is!!

A concerned citizen comes out and tries to chastise the cop. "How dare you bully common citizens!!" she says. The cop isn't having it, asking here lewdly if she's free tonight (complete with seductive tongue action!) Truly, A.C.A.B.!!!!

But then he's stopped by a trio of common citizens who tell him that they have those three legendary heroes and more, and they too have "survived a hundred days in the doomsday!!" He retreats! Police brutality is ended forever! Hooray!

Best Superhero Name

Before we talk about the best Superhero Name, let's talk about one of the wildest local films to come out in 2022: Genius Teens. Genius Teens is a two part movie series about a bunch of teens (and not-so-teens) with super powers. There's an asteroid involved or some sort of alien celestial body. Also, despite the title saying so, having super powers have no additional effect on the intelligence quotients of these teens, so we've all been jebaited. Baby Geniuses this is not.

The show doesn't seem to mind lifting ideas from other franchises, in fact, one of them is lifted directly from a certain clown prince of crime:

His name is Jester, and he's not the first dubiously concocted villain on here. His origin story happened mostly because of his own stupidity:

If kid Jester meant that, that's pretty fucked up yo.

Anyway, that's how most of the names in this movie are. They're very simple. If a character looks like a janitor, his name is probably Janitor. Don't take it from me, see for yourself:

This is me losing my goddamn mind in real time because some genius (teen?) named a supervillain fucking Socorro. She's one of three witches that are there for some reason, because witches are apparently a thing? Whatever. Best supervillain name ever.

Favorite Film About Planes - Top Gun Maverick

All things considered, it's just okay compared to some of the balls out action blockbusters on here but it's pretty fun! And do you know that the Su-57 incorporates stealth, supermaneuverability, supercruise, integrated avionics, and substantial internal payload capacity? Do you know it is expected to succeed the MiG-29 and Su-27 in the Russian military service and has also been marketed for export? Do you know that the first prototype aircraft flew in 2010, but the program would experience a protracted development due to various structural and technical issues that emerged during trials, including the destruction of the first production aircraft in a crash before its delivery? And do you know that after repeated delays, the first Su-57 entered service with the Russian Aerospace Forces (VKS) in December 2020?? The fighter is expected to have a service life of up to 35 years! 

In 1979, the Soviet Union outlined a need for next-generation fighter aircraft intended to enter service in the 1990s. The program became the I-90 (Russian: И-90, short for: Истребитель 1990–х годов, lit. 'Fighter of the 1990s') and required the fighter to be "multifunctional" (i.e., multirole) by having substantial ground attack capabili-

Favorite Movie About Security Guards on a Beach

Security Academy. I just wanted to include it in here. No cap

Craziest Vivamax Moments (SPOILER ALERT!!)

This is clickbait. The answer is obviously everything, everywhere all at once. I honestly cannot pick one. This year is full of crazy shit from Vivamax. Perhaps it's the opening of Roman Perez Jrs' Putahe, where Ayanna Misola uses a fish as a dildo? Wouldn't that chafe? What if the fish bit her or something?? (Afterwards, she yeets the fish into the sea like a softball.)

Maybe it's the ending of Joel Lamangan's Moonlight Butterfly, when things kinda end with a building exploding, resolving absolutely zero plotlines? This is not a Cat III Hong Kong Z-movie what the heck are y'all doing!? lol

Maybe it's that scene in Pusoy where Baron Geisler gets pegged by his lover and he barks like a pomeranian? I watched that film back to back with Doll House so imagine the whiplash.

Maybe it's that one scene in Roman Perez Jrs' Hugas where a little person is gifted to a rival gang, and upon receipt the little guy just lets loose with a handgun? Or, in the same movie, a torture scene is juxtaposed with Cara Gonzales plucking her armpit hairs??

Or maybe it's that one scene in Victor Villanueva's Boy Bastos where our protagonist American Pies a lumpia and his hungry aunt happens to come in? Yup, what you're thinking, that happens. lol. great film.

Vivamax is fun, guys.

Most Insane Short Film

It's one of these two films:

A couple of months ago, someone released this little undiscovered gem on ticket2me. A twofer for just 150 pesos, it looked promising. From the moment the production company logo was blown up by a green screen artillery explosion effect, I knew I had struck gold. Here's a trailer for the first of the two films, Love Ain't Enough, just for you to get a feel of what's going on:

The Photographer is a story of a guy who kills someone, but various people just keep walking into the room and he has to kill them, too. It's like that one time in Red Dead Redemption but most of the events happen in an apartment bathroom. Taken with the budget of 120 pesos and the technical film expertise of an upside down turtle, it's quite a sight to behold.

***

Hope y'all enjoyed, next up, some of my favorite non-Filipino films from around the world.