Alejandro "Bong" Ramos' Butas 2 - Confused Perspectives & Succulent Visuals

In an unfinished house made of concrete, infidelity is played out by Jiggo (Ace Castro of "Lamog") and his father’s mistress, Pia (Mocha Uson). Pia just recently arrived from a two-week Asian holiday with Jiggo’s influential father, the owner of the house. Their clandestine rendezvous is being documented by Jiggo’s video camera. The only other witness to their affair is Andoy (Rufert John Lirio), the bashful caretaker whose other vice is peeping through holes while Jiggo and Pia lollop from getting high to relishing their endless sexual games.

Jiggo is restless, willful and determined, but his ambition’s been mostly off tangent. In fact, he’s been indecisively jumping from one collegiate course to the next: from aeronautics to engineering – now he’s into films; something that has frustrated Jiggo’s father no end. Pia, on the other hand, is a former model who has succumbed to the lure of financial security offered by Jiggo’s dad. But Pia hasn’t been the good girl. She keeps hopping from one indiscretion to the next. To avoid getting spotted by her benefactor’s people, she navigates the bowels of Binangonan wearing a flurry of disguises. Meanwhile, youthful but destitute Andoy is mostly ignored by Jiggo and Pia. The soft spoken caretaker plays out his fantasies sneaking around the tenement’s crude corners, diligently spying on the sexually charged couple.

Jiggo’s recording of his concupiscent rendezvous with Pia isn’t all that whimsical or innocent. He has plans for the footages; something that would earn him money. And he couldn't care less if others get hurt along the way.

Director Alejandro “Bong” Ramos utilizes the same narrative element of the first “Butas” with Marco Morales and Gwen Garci. In fact, “Butas 2” is a retelling of sorts. Ramos ambitiously tries to up the ante by giving the viewer three perspectives: Jiggo’s, Pia’s and Andoy’s. Thus the scenarios are repeated several times from the point of view of our three protagonists. While it’s a refreshing style, the novelty soon wears off because Ramos soon recklessly transposes these perspectives. In fact, it’s easy to discern wayward perspectives. Suddenly, there were more than three perspectives and the whole exercise becomes a tedious predilection. The gimmickry will initially call your attention, but it soon becomes clear that the story’s too flimsy to be compelling. Besides, we have seen this story before, populated by different actors. The story is further hobbled by characters that the story could have done away with: the DVD pirate Obet (Alvin Duckert) and his girl friend Miranda (Jhoy Ortiz).

FACETS OF VOYEURISM

There are narrative facets that hook you like when Jiggo discusses how there are more stories that we don’t see: “May dalawang mukha ang butas – ang naninilip at ang sinisilipan.” Pia then interjects, “Gusto ko ako ang sinisilipan” – because the life of the voyeur is a sad one. It is an interesting thought. However, at some point you notice these thoughts to be wantonly moving away from the premise. Voyeurism has always been a shady part of our psyche and we're forever intrigued by what we're not supposed to see. Director David Lynch ("Twin Peaks", ""Blue Velvet", "Wild at Heart") once said, "We want to know secrets and we want to know what goes on behind those windows.There's an entertainment value to it. I think people are fascinated by that; by being able to see into a world they couldn't visit." To others, it's a sense of empowerment. There's God Complex in knowing what others do when they thought people weren't looking.

Ramos “Butas 2” boasts of several full frontals that would have you blush. Ace Castro proudly displays his considerable appendage in full, well-lit scenes, as does Alvin Duckert (in a shower scene with Jhoy Ortiz where he’s the only one doing the full monty - he doesn't even have qualms facing the camera; such a dirty dirty boy). Alvin isn't shy parading his half-Swedish falukorv (click the link below to find out what it is) in half a dozen Pink Films. Newbie Rufert John Lirio exudes innocence, thus when Jiggo playfully films him taking (yet another) shower, you feel sorry for Andoy whose most challenging scenes were his self pleasuring moments. Oohlala indeed. Even Marklen Trinidad has a surprising scene borne out of an exigent need to pepper Ramos’ cinematic canvas with as much nudity. Ramos makes G.A. Villafuerte’s films seem like Walt Disney movies.

Mocha Uson is a captivating femme fatale. What’s more, like Duckert, she isn’t shy displaying her bits-and-pieces. Unfortunately, her role doesn’t give her much thespic grit to munch on. She's merely meant to be ogled at; and not derive emotive inspirations from. But let’s hope she succeeds to crossover to mainstream cinema instead of wallowing in godawful flicks like Z Lokman’s “Seksing Masahista”.

The visuals in “Butas 2” are a joy to watch because of the film’s crystal clarity (with Jepoy Tarnate’s cinematography). Ramos further experiments with angles and views that you hardly experience in the films of Crisaldo Pablo, GA Villafuerte, Lucas Mercado, Cleo Paglinawan, Paul Singh Cudail, Edz Espiritu and other purveyors of cheap, shoddy sex flicks. Having said all that, Ramos’ weakness is in the exposition of his narrative. He eventually turns aimless. The concluding scenes in the movie feel uninspired as though they belong to a different story. Rough plot transitions occur when film makers need to suddenly complete their projects. With a rather gaunt story, “Butas 2” could have benefitted from judicious editing. Too bad they forgot to patch the holes.  

Link to check: falukorv - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/54/Falukorv.jpg

Why would a "straight" man film his naked caretaker? Sure gives you wayward ideas.

Alvin Duckert as Obet and Rufert John Lirio as Andoy find something they could sell.

Dexter Castro as Jiggo

Mocha Uson as Pia

Rufert John Lirio as Andoy

Alvin Duckert and Marklen Trinidad want you to smell their arms.

Mocha Uson is the femme fatale Pia.

Mocha Uson

Rufert John Lirio

Rufert John Lirio peeps through a hole.

Rufert John Lirio, Mocha Uson and Dexter Castro

Note:

Please read our featured post on Cinema Bravo and why Web Criticism isn't always about good writing:
- http://makemeblush2.blogspot.com/2016/10/cinema-bravo-film-criticisms-execrable.html

Lamog - Maui Taylor & Ace Castro Shake A Dysfunctional Family

I was admittedly looking forward to watching Carlo Alvarez’s “Lamog” (Bruised), something that doesn’t happen often with me and local flicks. I’ve chanced upon the trailer of the flick and it looked promising enough, it echoed movies like “Gamitan”, “Hibla” and other Maui Taylor movies of the past – those that provoked and bristled with an undeniable undercurrent of suspense. Moreover, the camera work seemed inventive, the shots moody and glossy. And I have always believed that movies should be visual first. It has to start with the basic knowledge of imparting a story on a visual tableau because if all you have is a great story, sans cinematic technical facility – go write a book instead, honey!

These days though, it’s easier to expect cinema that doesn't quite deliver the goods. So let’s get down to business.

Eddie (Ace Castro) is an I.T. professional enjoying a frenzied, albeit financially lucrative existence in the big city. One fateful day, he gets a call from an old friend. It has been two months since the demise of his mother. Though he’s practically abandoned his family, he’s nevertheless furious why his brother Atong (Chris Evert) didn't inform him. With his girlfriend (Ruth Russel), he saunters back home. He arrives at their old house now craggy and rundown, leaves strewn everywhere, as though it’s just memories taking residence. He eventually finds his brother Atong, now married to Lila (Maui Taylor), the girl he left behind without saying goodbye. It’s now his stepfather (Emil Saldoval) calling the shots. After a brawl and a caustic altercation, he learns that most of his deceased mother’s properties have all been dispossessed. After all, her dialysis and eventual funeral services siphoned most of the family’s resources. Furthermore, Eddie didn’t leave them a forwarding address. “Hindi umiikot sa ‘yo ang mundo,” accuses his stepdad. From there, they’re left with hushed conversations brimming with pathos of a strained past.

Eddie’s contention doesn’t end with his mother’s death. When he finds himself alone with Lila, he couldn’t stop himself from touching her. The attraction is mutual. Lila stops his advances. The morning after, Eddie leaves in a huff. But not before realizing that he has to make his proper goodbye this time. “Para matuldukan,” he tells his girlfriend. During their discussion, Eddie unwittingly tries to win Lila back, making excuses for himself. Lila’s inconsolable: “Hindi mo lang alam kung gaano kahirap mula nung umalis ka. Lamog na ang puso ko, lalo mo pang binubugbog.” Cryptic words, indeed.

Eddie drives away, but they ran out of gas. The couple returns to the house and finds it abandoned. Later that day, Eddie witnesses events that would eventually clue him in on what’s been transpiring there. Henceforth, the narrative switches genre.

The ex-girlfriend, the brother, the protagonist, and the stepfather (clockwise from top-left).

It was crucial to find the perfect protagonist to buoy a labyrinthine plot, and for the most part, Ace Castro fits Eddie perfectly. In fact, we have someone who inhabits his character like second skin – and Ace is snug as a bug in a rug, so to speak. His manner of delivery could have used a little more finesse as he comes off too street smart sometimes. If you’ve made a good life in the big city, a little refinement in your manner of delivery could have strengthened a character's believability. Castro looks conspicuously good, his images (in contradistinctive angles) remind me of Dino Guevarra, Joseph Bitangcol, even Daniel Matsunaga, while his Pinoy looks is reminiscent of Dennis Torres (“Lagpas”). Castro makes a great lead. It is quite evident the way director Carlo Alvarez pans through Castro’s profile and contour with deifying close-ups. The camera loves his actor. This unfortunately exposes Castro’s unflattering side (healed pimple scars, conspicuous cinematic make-up and lipstick). Take note of Alvarez’s camera work: he pans objects as though they are sentient characters – the ramshackle house, Eddie’s car symbolizing affluence over a grungy past, edgy silhouettes. Alvarez is an insightful visual artist. But it’s in the attention to detail that the director turns a bit sloppy.

Maui Taylor’s return to the screen is a welcome delight. This time around, Taylor loses the “school-girl vixen” demeanor that she was known for. Her face looked fuller, and curiously more elongated than triangular, giving her a more mature look. Her presence renders this production a legitimate feel. Emil Sandoval has a certain level of adroitness in his characterization, but it would have benefited with a little more subtlety. There were instances where you’re made acutely aware that the narrative was swerving towards Cesar Montano’s “Ligalig” territory. In fact, there should have been a bit of a historical exposition into Emil Sandoval’s motives to give his character adequate raison d’etre. The nature of a person is the sum of his experiences from his past, di ba?

The past and present face Lila in brothers Eddie and Atong.

Ruth Russel (aka Ruth Partida) and Ace Castro (aka Dexter Castro)

Spoilers!

Music (by Alfredo Onleo) prevails over the narrative in heavy handed convention. It gets obtrusive when the score is laid out loudly even during specific moments when you’re supposed to pay close attention to what the characters are saying. In a scene where Lila was pleading for her stepfather to stop the slaughter, she shouts: “Eddie, tama na!” It wasn’t Eddie facing her with a gun, it was her stepfather (Emil Sandoval)! While Sandoval was sodomizing Lila, you’d hear her cry (without tears), yet Eddie’s girlfriend from the next room didn’t hear the fracas that included taking a kidnapped girl (Maribel Esteban) inside the house. "'Di man lang nagising? Baka bingi," asked someone near my seat. And do kidnappers really take their victims home? I thought that was a major no-no in Kidnapping 101. (Never take your victims home or at work where people could easily trace you.)

Director Alvarez is adept, deviceful and capable. And “Lamog” is a serviceable romp into dysfunctional domestic territory. By maneuvering it from a cabal dramatic feature into a full blown suspense thriller, some narrative elements get unhinged. A few more questions are suddenly exposed and left unrefuted.

I'm giving Alvarez my thumbs up. Let’s hope he doesn't end up as a “great visual technician but otherwise gravely wanting of storytelling skills”, like Michael Tuviera or Topel Lee.

Ruth Russel fights for her man.

Beautiful Maui Taylor returns to the big screen.

Ace Castro as Eddie

Dennis Torres of "Lagpas"