Olivia Lamasan's "Starting Over Again" - Delightful Grieving

Ginny’s (Toni Gonzaga) school girl crush on History professor Marco (Piolo Pascual) has turned relentless that she’s brazenly proposed to him at every opportunity she gets. But on the most unexpected time, when she’s been rejected to play the Virgin Mary for a school play, Marco finally accepts. Thus starts their unlikely love story. 

While Ginny dreams of bigger things, like taking her Master's degree in Barcelona (where her mother works and raises a new family), Marco seems content with his culinary hobby, refusing to even finish his special course. And like most romantic relationships, lovers start noticing the chipping off of gloss. Marco in fact reflects Ginny’s father’s passivity and lack of ambition, a few of the reasons that lead to the eventual separation of Ginny’s parents (Lito Pimentel and Yayo Aguila). When some ideals are tainted by brash realities, admiration quickly dissipates. Ginny learns to “unlove” Marco. So she flies to Barcelona effectively cutting off her relationship with Marco who's devastated by the absence of an acceptable explanation. How does one move on without much closure?

A few years later, Ginny unexpectedly receives a “letterlater” (a web-based mail pre-sent on a later date) from Marco three years from the past, fortuitously rekindling her affection to the heartbroken ex boyfriend. 

What’s more serendipitous? Ginny, now a successful architect specializing in restoration, gets an invitation to propose a design for a new restaurant owned by Marco, now a prosperous chef. Wasn't this the same ancestral house where their dreams of putting up a restaurant first started? What’s the catch? Is Marco the same guy who has hopelessly written the “letterlater” three years ago? Is Ginny really handed a second chance? Or was this a retaliatory ploy to get back at her? But life isn't a walk in the park. Marco, it turns out, has a new girl friend, the gorgeous pastry chef Patty (Iza Calzado) who “looks like the Virgin Mary” – a role that Ginny was once rejected for. And she is getting mixed signals from Marco. His longing is palpable when he gazes at her. What’s a girl to do? Should she pursue him again, like she once did? Has he moved on? Or was it time to start anew?

Director Olivia Lamasan presents a legitimate narrative dilemma that takes his audience on a compelling journey along with Ginny, Marco and Patty. It’s easy to get devoured by Lamasan's romantic maelstrom. While the film follows a template familiar in romantic comedies, the characters are deftly written. Moreover, each narrative element is masterfully pieced together.

Some narrative issues are in fact worth exploring and discussing, as when Ginny recognizes some of her father's loathsome traits in Marco. Once romance scratches the surface of reality, human frailties are revealed, exposing Marco's decrepitude. If a relationship is worth keeping, we eventually learn to accept the flaws. Otherwise, we leave.

The movie is told from the point of view of Ginny Tolentino that necessarily makes this vehicle Toni Ganzaga's who takes full advantage of the character's broad and livid gestures. In fact, some of the most delightful and slap-happy scenes involve her, i.e. Ginny and Marco's first concupiscent moment, a rollicking scene that shall be remembered with hilarity long after the movie has stopped screening in cinemas. Or when Marco gives her the run around from Taft to Alabang to San Juan to Tagaytay, braving through taxis, trains and traffic- on six-inch heels! Then there's the silly seduction scene by the ladder, and her falling into Marco's arms.

Unlike many Star Cinema romcoms, the quirky, albeit annoying extended families of our protagonists are featured minimally. There’s little exposition on Ginny’s separated parents or Marco’s folks and Lola (Liza Lorena). This allows the narrative to focus on its three central characters, allowing more flesh on their motivations and intentions. Let’s take the case of Ginny who possesses a consistent characterization. She’s the loud, unyielding, aggressive soul who finds ambition and talent sexy. When she detects a flicker of passivity in Marco, she loses interest. That, to me, is human nature. And what is cinema if not a character study blown up on celluloid. Even Marco and Patty are well sketched. This refulgent delineation of characters is tangible enough that when Patty refuses to be brazenfaced when verbally confronted by Ginny (the uncomfortable and climactic kitchen scene: "Palayain mo na si Marco"), we realized quite well that indeed some people carry such enviable dignity despite aggression - or grace under pressure.

Strong performances define this movie. Toni Gonzaga appears in her career’s best performance, thanks to a script that utilizes her thespic vulnerability, exquisitely infusing it with the flick’s comedic inclinations. Romantic comedies are her forte, and this is evident as she masterfully glides through with self deprecating charm. Piolo Pascual returns to form. He revives an easy deportment not seen in a while, but when it was time to pull out all the stops – as when Marco tries to stop Ginny’s taxi from taking her to the airport, he was brimming with empathy. When did we last see him this fetching? Eight long years ago in Joyce Bernal’s 2006 romcom, “Don’t Give Up On Us” (with Judy Anne Santos). Iza Calzado imbues Patty with adequate charisma that, at some point, we wished she would “get the boy”. Thanks mostly to a classy character excursion.

It is a curiosity though how Olivia Lamasan has outdone Cathy Garcia-Molina in the romcom genre. After all, Lamasan does dramas, not romcoms. If this were Molina’s film, there’s be sing-alongs at airports involving every living beings (including the ceiling repairmen); there'd be sun dances in the middle of a park or during a blustering rain; there'd be terpsichorean extravaganzas in gyms filled with fawning spectators, and all those cheesy, peanut-gallery tricks that may be amusing, but ultimately unrealistic. How did Lamasan outdo Molina? In what could be the decade’s most captivating epilogue, the film follows our crestfallen heroine as she rushes to a meeting: hailing a taxi, climbing a stair, meeting a new colleague, and shaking the hand of someone who could be her ticket to moving on! Genius!

Now tell me you're not inspired.

Piolo Pascual turns on the megawatt charm.

Toni Gonzaga: career best

When McDreamy becomes a local affair.

Iza Calzado as Patty: Killing with kindness.

Smiling their way to the bank.

Olivia Lamasan's The Mistress - Morality Tales

For five years, Sari’s (Bea Alonzo) life has revolved around her burgeoning extended family and her special Thursdays. She works as the master cutter of a popular tailoring shop. She’s contented and has sought for nothing more than the needs of her family. One day, JD (John Lloyd Cruz), an architect, finds her in a bookstore. Her serene presence so enraptured him that he decides to pursue her despite her snide brush off: “Hindi lahat ng gusto mo, makukuha mo.” There’s more to Sari’s dismissal than meets the eye. After all, their attraction to each other is palpable. Why does she avoid him?

But fate is a precarious adversary. JD finds Sari working for a client he’ll be working for in the next few months – to renovate the tailoring shop’s working space. As he openly pursues Sari, it soon becomes clear that the impediment has something to do with Sari’s Thursdays, a day she gets off work, visits a two-story duplex where she stays for the next 24 hours, gets dolled up, and satisfies her “duty” as the mistress to an elder, albeit married gentleman named Rico (Ronaldo Valdez). Though this arrangement seems impassioned, Sari soon unravels to JD that she’s paying debt of gratitude for help that was once extended to her demented Lola Lina (Anita Linda) and Sari's struggling family.

What JD doesn’t know: this gentleman happens to be his father Frederico Torres, owner and CEO of a financially lucrative telecom firm; a father he doesn’t quite see eye to eye with; a husband who constantly strays, to the consternation of Regina (Hilda Koronel), his wife and JD’s constantly forgiving mother. She knows about her husband’s affair, but she is constantly reminded about her previous indiscretion; one that bore a child – Eric Torres aka JD. Eric is subtly admonished everyday for his mother’s “sins”, thus he maintains a sour relationship with the man who took Eric for his own son. After the death of an elder son, Rico needs Eric as his deputy C.E.O., a job that Eric resists with a passion.

While Eric deals with familial strife, Sari is more and more torn between JD’s diligent pursuit and Rico’s suddenly acquisitive streaks (he now requires other days outside Thursdays), unaware that JD is his son. “I realized I can’t share you with another man,” Rico tells Sari. Is there hope for our star-crossed lovers?

Director Olivia Lamasan carefully weaves a story that curiously validates an extra-marital dilemma, and she does this quite compellingly. The script is riddled with cryptic or humorous lines that would intermittently have you tapping with glee: “Bukas uulan, makukuha ko ang gusto ko.” Huh? Aren’t we trespassing Cathy Garcia-Molina’s territory?

Hilda Koronel’s drunken scene should be made a Gold Standard for actors: “Thursday, the one day of the week that makes me want to regret everything. Every fucking Thursday; every Thursday fucking.” Koronel delivers this line without florid sentimentality, her voice dipping low, turning almost inaudible, but you sense her grief. Clearly, there is no one like Hilda Koronel, the film’s most underused character. I love the way she speaks her English – and this is the “Filipino English” that I always mention here. She’s lived in the U.S. for years yet you never hear her deliver those phony accents heard from the likes of Piolo Pascual, Jericho Rosales, John Arcilla, Cesar Montano, et.al. (Unfortunately, the list is growing.) You even hear Piolo lose his “rolled R”, badly monkeying how the Brits do it. Take it from La Koronel! Now that’s classy Pinoy English: clear, emphatic, and devoid of spine-tingling Middle Earth “security guard” accents. Right, Mr. Arcilla?

When Koronel asks: “Why is he doing this to me, son? I love him,” you understand the gravity of her misery. Even her less emotive lines are a joy to hear: “Why do I only see you during National holidays? I miss you, son. I hardly see you.” Even gag-inducing lines (“I hate you. I hate you because I cannot hate you”) turn into cinematic magic. There’s more: “As long as I’m alive, you will never be promoted to wife.” Why are we denied Koronel’s sophistication and brilliance? We need to see her more often. She can teach many new stars a thing or two about grace and thespic grit. 

The situations in Lamasan’s “The Mistress” are, of course, apocryphal. After all, you don’t always want to sympathize with someone who entertains the advances of a married man, yet Bea Alonzo imbues her character with adequate sympathy, we might as well make a saint out of her. How can she love someone who imposes himself on her; someone who tells her which slinky dress to wear for a dinner out? You have to admit, she looked like a tramp in her back-baring “suman” dress, debah?

Bea Alonzo, still the most gifted actress of her generation, delectably inhabits Sari with a highly nuanced turn. Her instincts are so fine tuned she never misses a step. The same can be said about John Lloyd Cruz who’s as conflicted about his familial status as he is of his relationship with Sari. Cruz, in fact, seems to be walking in the park. Cruz shines in silent moments: “Ang daming dahilan para hindi kita mahalin. Kung bakit di ko magawa, kasi mahal kita.” He switches tantrums with finger-snapping precision. And if there’s one thing evident about this film, it’s the prevalence of “mood swings”. They’re amorous one moment; surly the next.

Ronaldo Valdez makes a career-best performance as he depicts Frederico, the man who wants to have his cake and eat it too. His emotive cadences are spectacular, e.g. his argument with John Lloyd at the office. One moment he tells his son that he needs him (“Anong gusto mo, luluhod ako sa harap mo para pumayag ka?”), then he tells Eric how he owes the company his attention. Even when he drops emotionally charged lines (“Ano’ng karapatan mo, Sari? Kerida lang kita!”), you don’t feel the mawkishness of the scene. My favorite scene with Ronaldo was his conversation with Eric at his hospital bed: “When I saw you with your big round eyes, I knew you were mine. That’s why I gave you my name.” I had to moderate my emotions to avoid making a fool of myself inside the theater.

"But I'm still fucking choose to stay!" Ano daw?

WEAK PARTS

Some characters, like Anita Linda’s Lola Lina, are a tad too familiar and showy. If you remember Coco Martin’s “Santa Nina” (opening in commercial cinemas this week), this was a similar character (the dementedly verbose and Alzheimer-stricken old woman) transported to a different movie. But wait? Isn’t she the same “Lola Miling” in Chito Rono and Sharon Cuneta’s “Caregiver” (2008)? Sometimes, that’s the trouble in using trite characters just to populate their narrative world. Writers forget. Carmi Martin, playing Bea’s mother, also sticks out like a sore thumb. Moreover, didn’t they realize that Sari is gone every Thursday? Wasn’t her weekly disappearance a cause of concern for them? If Sari was indeed the tailoring’s best cutter, why was she open target for the cantankerous Mr. Zarate (Gabe Mercado)? In fact, Zarate’s ire was a valid reason to get mad (Sari used cotton instead of pina for Zarate’s barong). If you’re a great seamstress, you don’t mistake your pinias from your cotton linens, do you?

“The Mistress” employs a narrative course that’s almost emotionally Machiavellian. Lamasan mostly succeeds in this aspect. But the veracity of emotions is, no doubt, buoyed by the film’s laudable four-way lead! The lingering music is effective in hauling out emotions, but it’s a stroke of inspiration making use of Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars” to anchor Sari and Eric’s predicament.  “If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me? And just forget the world?” Some obstacles can overwhelm human emotions. Isn’t that sad?   

Regina hates Thursdays.

Attending a wedding at the Callao Cave up north.

Anita Linda does another demented Lola in "The Mistress", a role similar to her characters in "Caregiver" and "Santa Nina". While she is undoubtedly brilliant, one doesn't get high points for repeating ones self. 

In The Name of Love - Aga and Angel Scorch The Screen

Life has been a series of rotten apple harvests for Emman (Aga Muhlach). Middle age, for the former hosto (he used to dance with a group in Tokyo), isn't a flattering reality. Emman recently completed a shortened 7-year prison term for trafficking Yakuza money. With a pot belly and a dead end job as stevedore in a wet market, Emman has yielded to failure. His shoulders sag and flaunt his defeat. He is in dire need of dough to start a dance studio. More importantly, his son is migrating to Canada. One day, he tries out a gig as D.I. (dancing instructor) for a political clan. He finds Cedes (Angel Locsin), the gorgeous girl friend of Dylan Evelino (Jake Cuenca) who's being groomed by his influential political family to run for Vice Mayor. Despite Emman's enticing glances and terpsichorean acumen, Cedes seems aloof and ill at ease. Emman's services get rejected. Dylan intercedes - and rehires Emman who earlier saved Dylan from an attempted assassination. Thus starts Emman, Cedes and Dylans three-part flirtation with a contrived romance.

Though it initially seemed like Emman and Cedes were complete strangers, flashbacks would soon tell the bittersweet tale of romance in an era of foreign employments and long distance relationships. Emman and Cedes have indeed played out a sprawling romantic history.

The succeeding narrative is too convoluted to be discussed and relayed here without giving away a hundred and one spoilers so we'll dive in straight to our observations.

There is a punctilious attention to detail in piecing together a non-linear narrative, a tack that renders Olivia Lamasan's "In The Name of Love" ample cinematic meat to chew on. This isn't the proverbial spoon feeding we've grown accustomed from Tagalog flicks. Stringing together Emman and Cedes' story could have been simpler told, but in the able hands of Lamasan, their harrowing journey to finding each other becomes pertinent and contemporary without falling into the realm of a travelogue with drama as a sidebar.

But the real jewel in the film are the intuitive actors that populate this otherwise teleserye-styled ouvre. Aga Muhlach, as the suffering Emman, delivers a vanity-deficient performance replete with emotional baggage and character ascendancy rarely displayed in mainstream cinema. Muhlach is truly one of the most accomplished actors of this generation. My favorite scene would be his protracted scene with Angel Locsin when he finally decides to unravel his frustration; why he was eventually abandoned in prison when he gave away his life, his freedom and his child "in the name of love". That was quite arresting, a feat that would have easily watered down the gravitas had it been handled by a lesser actor. Nuf said.

Now. Angel Locsin. During the whole run of the film, we were frequently flirting with the idea of "what ifs". What could have Bea Alonzo done for this role? Bea, as if I need to remind everyone, is this generation's best actress. What about Angelica Panganiban, who excels in every role she's given - drama or comedy? The thought badgers. After all, Angel Locsin has only shown her thespic mettle since her big move to ABS CBN - "Love Me Again" (with Piolo Pascual), to be exact. Now that isn't a long time to build up a resume on as a respectable, albeit serious actress in contention.

But as heaven is my witness, Angel Locsin owned up Cedes like her alter ego. Angel's inherent sexuality is key to making Cedes' character work; a character that begs to be played onscreen since Angel's "Darna" days. She's the enchantress who doesn't alienate; the girl who has selflessly given up her love for something nobler than mere companionship. Sniff. Sniff. Locsin's sensitivity is painfully palpable; she has comfortably secured a seat among this year's best performances.

Aga Muhlach

SPOILERS AND QUIBBLES!

We do have a few quibbles about the film. And it would be burdensome to discuss this with people who haven't exactly seen the movie. But here it goes.

The political clan of the Evelinos are so powerful they even have direct connections with Japan's fearsome Yakuza. This enabled them to save Cedes from the clutches of white slavery (a prerogative she chose in order to help secure Emman's earlier release: he was pardoned on the 7th of his 13 year sentence). That is quite a far fetched idea, to be perfectly honest. Corollary to that, why did the Evelinos ask Cedes to forcibly murder a political rival? They have enough men in their very capable, gun-toting squad to do the dirty deed. Why soil the hand of a girl who would become Dylan's girl friend and possibly the Vice Mayor's wife? Why was there a need to videotape the "murder"? And why the exigence to further blackmail Cedes when she had nothing to offer them but her freedom and her own self?

During the governor's ball, when Cedes was supposed to get shot while the blame would easily be attributed to the clan's hundreds of enemies, why did the patriarch (a surprisingly scurrilousLeo Rialp) implicate himself by pulling out a gun to shoot Cedes himself - in public? They have already paid someone else to kill Cedes (she's not good enough for the clan's poster boy). This doesn't add up.

I am not too sure either why a dramatic undertaking would suddenly turn into an 80's Brocka-style narrative detour (corrupt politicians and concluding shoot outs). Besides, "Huling Sayaw" (the proposed initial title) could have been a catchier, more appropriate title than "In The Name of Love". They obviously cannot use its Tagalog translation either ("Sa Ngalan Ng Pag Ibig") because that has been used in a Maryo J. de Los Reyes film in 1995, that starred Christopher de Leon, Lorna Tolentino and Alma Concepcion. That's all water under the bridge (titling issue) since we watched the film on a dead hour - and on a week day - and we saw a good crowd inside the movie house.

Finally, something has to be said about the movie's conclusion. Despite the brilliance of the whole narrative structure - and its engrossing turn of events - the cinematic ending turned out to be anti-climactic! It felt like the story did not deserve a rather trite and unappealing ending. There has to be a better conclusion than just showing a vehicle (with Emman and Cedes inside) leaving town. They are, as expected, driving into the sunset, albeit in a lackluster finish that left a void among the audience. This felt like getting a 98% grade in each of the first three quarters, then finishing the last part with an unsatisfactory 75%.

On the whole, there is much to enjoy in Lamasan's latest. In a year where most of the local releases are peppered with amateur works and bottom-scraping pink films, "In The Name of Love" is a cinematic jewel.

Jake Cuenca: Finally proves his mettle as someone who can be taken seriously as an actor.