"A Separation" - When Iranian Cinema Wins an Oscar

When Nader (Payman Moadi) refuses to leave the country as wife Simin (Leila Hatami) desires - "so we can give our daughter a better future", the latter packs her bags and files for a divorce. Nader has a more pressing, albeit personal reason: he couldn't leave behind his father afflicted with Alzheimer's Disease and degenerating fast. On the day of Simin's departure, Nader hires Razieh (Sareh Bayat) a carer who would look after his father: "Make sure he gets fed or doesn't wander outside." But complications arise when Razieh learns that she had to change the 70 year old senile gentleman's pants too. The act poses a moral as well as ethical dilemma for Razieh who turns out to be pregnant. Moreover, she had to leave her house at 5 AM just to get to Nader's place at 8 AM. She balks and tells Nader she couldn't do the job. But she recommends her husband Hodjat (Shahab Hosseini) who's eternally unemployed.

A few days later, Razieh returns and once again assumes the domestic employ. Hodjat is being held by creditors, thus couldn't make it. Later that day, Nader comes home to an almost deserted house. Razieh and her little daughter is nowhere in sight. What's worse, Nader finds his father lying stiff on the floor, barely breathing, hands tied down the bed. Is he alive? Upon Razieh's return, all hell breaks lose, compounding to an ever escalating dilemma that involves Razieh losing her child; Hodjat suing Nader who himself sues Razieh for abandoning his father as well as "stealing" lost money at the cupboard. Where does this commotion take our protagonists? Is Nader aware of Razieh's condition? Better yet, did he really cause Razieh harm by pushing her out of his home and down the stairs? Would Nader be willing to pay the "blood money" to avoid jail time?

Like most Iranian films, director Asghar Farhadi tells his story straight without the expedient machinations familiar in American or Asian Cinema: fancy lighting, music, flashbacks, special effects to help move their narrative. In fact, "A Separation" essentially subscribes to the precepts of "Dogma 95" - the avant-garde cinematic movement that was started in 1995 by Scandinavian directors Lar von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg. If there was music, it only appeared when the credits rolled.

The strength of such film making lies in the strong structure of the narrative itself. It has to be compelling enough for its audience to sit and listen without having to resort to the aforementioned gimmicks.

True enough, in the heart of Nader's quandary are several ethical issues and the distinct cultural mores that Iranians conform: a wife has to have her husband's permission if she pursues employment; she can't work with a single man; one can't lie and swear on the Koran; one cannot hurt a pregnant woman (which is, obviously, universal). These, we mention, to underline the coterie of predicament tackled in "Nader and Simin: A Separation", the film's original and more complete title.

The performances are nothing to scoff at. Peyman Moadi's Nader is particularly watchable and natural. Sareh Bayat, who played Razieh, exhibits the uneasy vulnerability of her character; her motivations distinct and her emotions palpable. The cast, in fact, won Berlin's Silver Bear Award while Sareh Bayat won a well deserved Best Supporting Actress from the London Critics Circle. Shahab Hosseini is likewise menacing. He depicts a scorned husband's wrath with fierceness, but somehow you suspect that he has motives far removed from that of a caring husband. Meanwhile, if Sarina Farhadi (playing 11 year old Termeh) enjoys easy banter with Moadi, it's because she is the director's daughter. Affinity somehow breeds agreeability.

I am a creature of very specific taste. I love Iranian Cinema because they entertain without dumbing down their audience. I am tentative to the brave demeanor of Iran's brash filmmakers - most of whom gets punished for their art. They aren't afraid to mirror the complex issues that litter their soceity. Director Farhadi once said: "I feel it's important to talk about the complex issues affecting us. I think it's insulting to an audience to make them sit and watch a film and then give them a message in one sentence." His statements are aplenty.

Court dispute


Razieh and her daughter


Menacing Shahab Hosseini

Zig Dulay's Huling Halik - Cinematic Meandering

Ili and JM (Joeffrey Javier and Kenjie Garcia) decide to relive their early days as lovers in Baguio City a day before JM packs his stuff and moves to Manila. Though they’ve parted ways, JM somehow believes this would bring closure (and other things as well) to their tempestuous past; one that on several occasions had him cutting himself.

Amidst revelry of a fogbound Panagbenga Festival, the couple retraces sites they used to frequent: the Botanical Garden, Mines View, the Igorot Park, the little shop selling their favorite meal. Along with friends Ace and Brian (Jayjay Jimenez and Patrick Esteban), they even frolic in the woods. But as the hours drag on, Ili gets seemingly clamorous text messages and calls from his new girl friend, while JM gets impatient and intolerant. We soon witness a glimpse into their past – a heavily invidious JM and an inattentive lover in Ili. Couldn’t they enveigle a more amorous and conciliatory goodbye?

Director Zig M. Dulay follows the former lovers around Baguio with his handheld camera as his characters banter and flirt around with laidback demeanor and easy charm. Imbuing its narrative with a documentary feel, the first quarter is a compelling watch as we are roped into the mechanics of their relationship. We sat with due attention. Joeffrey Javier, Crisaldo Pablo's "it" boy, looks relaxed, not to mention watchable. But when JM repeatedly bawls like a scorned wife every time Ili gets a call, the atmosphere briskly evolves into one that irritates and confuses. After all, their relationship as lovers ceased some time ago. Why the nagging resentment? Isn't JM leaving town for good, making his emotional outbursts nothing but misplaced sentiments?

Further on, this green-eyed scenario becomes redundant and mundane. It becomes clear that the story teller has lost his way as he blindly meanders into cluelessness. At this point, what could have been an exposition on the fleeting nature of relationship turns into the realm of desperate affection - aimless, unfocused, rambling.

Kenjie Garcia gives a spirited performance as he displays his enviable acumen to lacrimate from sun up to sun down. Why not? He won a Best actor Plum from some international award giving body, right? So with more than adequate braggadocio, he shows his audience how it is to cry! I was stunned! I've never seen someone cry this much not even in episodes of MMK, he must be going for a world record! Amazing!

We saw "Huling Halik" during its festival run in Greenbelt 3 and seeing Joeffrey Javier do well in two films (the other one was for Eduardo Roy, Jr.'s "Bahay Bata") gave a smile on our face. There is hope for Pink Film habitues!

"Huling Halik" could have soared with a more legible second half. Unfortunately, their last kiss was nothing but clenched teeth. Someone got lost on his way to narrative denouement.


Joeffrey Javier: Comfortable away from Crisaldo Pablo's exploitative and amateurish film works.


Brian and Ace doing a concupiscent version of "Midsummer Night's Dream" in the woods.


JM preps himself up for another round of crying!


"Yun lang ang hinihingi ko sa 'yo, di mo pa maibigay! Isang araw lang!" laments JM. And as earlier forewarned, he cries again like there's no tomorrow! LOL


Kenjie Garcia and Joeffrey Javier


Jayjay Jimenez and Patrick Esteban


Traffic stopping briefs! :)

The Witness - Pretentions and Indulgence of Mood

Indonesian horror had a renaissance barely a decade ago when director Rizal Mantovani came up with his well made indie ouvre "Jelangkung" which managed to crossover international borders. There were undeniable references to "The Blair Witch Project" but the film was unmistakably Asian in theme, slant and texture. And it was darn scary. Mantovani followed this with the "Kuntilanak" trilogy - accounting for the country's version of "aswang". Though this should have encouraged a resurgence of the well-made genre in Indonesia, this has turned into a cacophony of - pardon my French - vomit-inducing, mind-numbing works like Helfi Kardit's "Bangku Kosong" (Empty Chair) which gratuitously displayed the logic-free narratives almost pathognomonic of Indonesian horror.

Muhammad Yusuf's "The Witness" awkwardly endeavors to cross the thin line dividing horror from suspense thriller, but the end product tilts towards mediocrity. And what was supposedly a renaissance became a virulent epidemic of dime-a-dozen scarefests.

CAPSULE

Angel (Gwen Zamora) finally decides to join her expat family in Jakarta who had moved in the Indonesian capital 10 years ago. Three months into her migration, Angel is gradually settling down in their lavish home. But one fateful day, she meets a stranger who massacres her household. Six people get shot to death, including her parents and younger sister Safara (Kimberly Ryder). As she hatches for an escape, the unknown assailant eventually tracks her and leaves her for dead.

A few weeks later, Angel wakes up a survivor. What she has witnessed has turned into a recurring dream where she is eternally pursued by the murderer whose identity she doesn't recognize. Moreover, a young man's image intermittently slices into her reverie - he either cuts himself or blows himself to smithereens. Why was her family decimated? Is Angel still in imminent danger?



Buoyed by enviable production values and resplendent cinematography (Joel F. Zola), Muhammad Yusuf's "The Witness" impels with great promise. In the early scene where indiscriminate firing occurs, the audience is soon submerged in some wild hypothetical quandary. Random violence from a disgruntled mind? After all, killing people couldn't be anything less, right?

The movie gradually spins into a yarn of wrath and retribution. While we acknowledge that the genre necessitates use of mood to generate atmosphere, the film lays this technique with overbearing, albeit insolent splendor. Protracted mood soon turns into ennui. I have never been so bored watching a suspense thriller in my life! This wasn't nibbling on nails or sitting at the edge of my seat; this was generation of impatience! Simply put, everything in this film takes forever to happen!

When the protagonist (Gwen Zamora) finds a key on the floor, she picks them up with gratingly slow pace it couldn't be convenient for her arching back, could it? When she opens a door, you witness how the knob turns for 2 snail-paced minutes! When she opens a drawer, this takes even longer than one cycle of respiration! If she kept this up, she would, I reckon, turn cyanotic! This gratuitous and peremptory "call to mood" turns compulsive. No action moves with normal pace! This tack allows the audience 's attention to meander from too much atmospheric jostling.

To be honest, waiting for its narrative climax was like anticipation of a root canal! You want it over and done with to end your agony!

Straight forward storytelling is lost in this megman's desperate bid to impress. The result is one of contumelious cinematic conceit that irritates than entertains. It also highlights the stark inability to maneuver its premise into something vaguely frightening.

"The Witness" is a joint project, a co-production if you must, between Indonesia's Skylar Pictures and the Philippines' GMA Films. But it is clear that the artistic reign is being held by the Indonesian arm of this venture. GMA's sole contribution is in casting its Filipino lead - Gwen Zamora (Faye of "Enteng Kabisote" film franchise).

While we feel proud that a Filipina had to topbill an Indonesian film again (after Christian Bautista's "A Special Symphony'), we are also baffled by casting director Ida Henares' choice. Sure, Zamora possesses a spellbinding allure, but her acumen is rather raw and tentative. Couldn't they have given the part to a more seasoned actress who deserves a movie - like Marian Rivera or Carla Abellana? These girls ought to be movie stars, instead of mere TV starlets! Give them film projects, for Pete's sake!

In the film, Zamora was made to cry from start to finish, you eventually lose all vestiges of patience. I personally wanted this particular cry-baby to be slaughtered. She was getting on my nerves!

SPOILER

The second part of the narrative revolves around an unlikely triangle: Safara (Kimberly Ryder) gets infatuated with her boyfriend Aris' (Agung Saga) popular father Satria (Pierre Gruno), an iconic musician in the local scene. This emotional upheaval has caused Aris to kill himself. As a consequence, Satria avenges his son's death - by killing everyone in Safara's family!

Delving into the logic of things, why was this father's admonition bent on others? Why not on himself? He was responsible for his actions, wasn't he? He took his son's girlfriend; his action is anything but reputable. If there were one soul of adequate age to discern right from wrong, it would be him! Yet he calls Safara a "bitch" (when he meant "whore"). To his mind, the pretty teenager is the devious one; and he - at close to 60 - was the victim. Very insightful, isn't he? LOL

There are head-scratching moments: When Angel follows a lead on the case, she drops by a stranger's house in the dark of night! When no one answers her knock, she traipses inside the house like it was a leisurely walk in the park. She opens doors; climbs stairs; enters rooms; reads diaries. Is such act really a norm acceptable in Indonesia? In the Philippines, as it is elsewhere in the world, we call it trespassing. This has punitive repercussions.

And why were the rooms in the house all lit up while the place was obviously deserted? They don't conserve electricity in Jakarta? Maybe the proprietor was expecting a visitor? At 7 PM? Then why was he away? Stranger things have happened, you know. As the story enveigles its painful conclusion, a hundred questions hover in your mind.

Agung Saga, playing singer Aris, is a familiar face. We remember him playing a street fighter in the Indonesian film "D' Love" (also directed by Helfi Kardit). Pierre Gruno, playing Satria the father, was a bit too indicative. By the time we learn of his motives, we've conveniently lost interest because he has battered us with blatant emotionality, misplaced and floundering. That being said, he has failed to assuage any form of sympathy - or believability, for that matter. He loved his son too much that he sees him only once a month? Yes, one moment in a month! Such heart breaking affection indeed. Cool dad, huh?

In what could be one of the year's most irritating films, "The Witness" tests fortitude and challenges common sense. At some point, I was prone to suggesting one thing: Yeah, kill everyone in the movie already - and fast!

That could have resolved such torture!

Marcellino Lafrand as Detective Indra


Gwen Zamora as Angel


Agung Saga inspiringly shows how to suck a gun!

MMK's "Cross-Stitch" - Iza Calzado's Dramatic Milestone

Abby and Egay (Rica Peralejo and Zanjoe Marudo) are blissfully contented. They adore and relish each other’s company. They even dance and laugh together the way young lovers often do. Meanwhile, Abby’s friend, Liza (Iza Calzado) takes the sidelines, elated to be part of a congenial match made in heaven.

But some stories aren’t ordained with happy-ever-afters. One day, Abby starts getting unexplained lumps on her leg prompting consultation with a doctor who informs the couple that Abby is afflicted with cancer: Stage 2 Malignant Soft Tissue Sarcoma to be exact. This doesn’t bode well for chirpy and buoyant Abby, but she stays convinced that radiation would remedy the problem. In her mind, good things happen to good folks, right? But with an attentive husband and a subservient best friend, Abby’s six months gets further lease in life. She lives on as she gets rushed in and out of the hospital.

Lisa, meanwhile, decides to leave the bakery where she works to try her luck abroad. Her family is in financial discord and her siblings need her help. Despite Abby’s objections, Lisa flies to Saudi Arabia to work as a domestic helper. While Lisa was gone, it becomes clear to Abby that her life is gradually slipping away. She was distressing about Egay – the love of her life. Could she find someone who will take care of him? And isn’t it convenient that the her best friend Lisa is eternally single? In fact, her friend has come to terms with her uncompounded, relationship-free status.

Lisa didn’t finish her 2-year contract as she becomes statistics to employer abuse. She comes home and finds Abby weaker and sicker. Little did Lisa know that Abby has rolled the ball to maneuver an awkward kinship between her and Egay who was never her friend. When Abby finally expires, Egay is inconsolable - and dismissive! But Lisa has boundless patience for her dear friend’s husband. One day, the unexpected transpires between the grieving husband and the sympathetic friend. As though dictated by fate, Lisa gets pregnant! And it isn’t even a year since Abby’s death. What would people say?

When Egay learns of her pregnancy, he offers to take care of Lisa and their child. But living with a grieving widower is a contentious proposition. Lisa realizes that Abby is still a staunch competition for Egay’s devotion. In fact, Egay professes never to let go of Abby’s memory – or affection. At the home front, though Egay is the perfect father to their child, Lisa's presence becomes inconsequential where Egay is concerned. She is treated like a maid. When Egay's utter disdain becomes unbearable, Lisa troops to her friend’s tomb and swears she will do everything to win the cold and antagonistic man she has learned to love. “Aagawin ko si Egay sa ‘yo,” she swears. Will Lisa get her own happy-ever-after?

We feel compelled to write about this episode because MMK’s “Cross-Stitch” is, in itself, a milestone. This is Iza Calzado’s first foray in her new home network. Though GMA would understandably scoff at this suggestion, Iza Calzado was indeed the station’s Best Actress – bar none! – until her untimely departure. At GMA, Iza reigned like a queen without a crown, dispossessed like a cinematic Cinderella. Her entry into ABS CBN’s stable of competent actresses should create ripples. Here comes a great beauty and a spectacular actress who can hold a candle against Kapamilya’s very competent homegrown queens. We hope she gets treated better!

In “Cross-Stitch”, Calzado deftly displays her thespic dominion on an otherwise maudlin character such as Lisa – and I am referring to how the character was initially written. Director Nuel C. Naval occasionally succumbs to old school theatrics, but the amazing Iza never resorts to excesses expected from such material. Lisa’s scene at Abby’s tomb is instructive. She pours her heart out and bewails the injustice from her friend’s deception. Iza renders clarity and believability to her predicament. But we believe that Lisa’s character could have been expounded earlier. We hardly know anything about her even midway into the story. This somehow results to an uneven narrative structure, if a tad disconcerting. After all, Lisa is the protagonist - the story’s heroine.

Rica Peralejo's return to the screen is a welcome development. She imbues empathy to Abby and makes us understand why her husband is besotted with her. Zanjoe Marudo does wonderfully as the conflicted Egay. His monologue at Abby’s tomb is particularly heart breaking: “Hindi ko balak na sundin ang hiling mo, pero nangyari. Mahal ko si Lisa’t hindi ko kayang mawala sya sa akin.“ He then symbolically removes his wedding ring as Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” plays on piano. Some aspects of life are meant to endure mortality like the memory of a departed love one.

Circumstance may not always conform with our plans. Things happen, others don't. We learn to live with them. When Egay finally takes Lisa in his arms, whispering multitudes of “I love you’s”, he dances with the woman who has nurtured the hope of loving again. Maybe it’s pre-ordained.

Lisa cries on her friend's grave.

Jern & Larsson's "Savage" - Searing Swedish Potboiler

In a small Swedish town, Kim (Magnus Skog) who recently completed jail time for a petty crime, wants a clean slate. He dreams of a house and a steady job, but opportunity is nil. His girl friend is getting as frustrated and eventually decides to leave him. Kim tries hard to dissociate himself from his father who sells alcoholic beverages to 12 year olds. Meanwhile, Jesper (Stefan Soderberg), Kim’s friend, sells himself to online perverts, doing cam porn shows in exchange of money. Jesper lives in a rundown bus, but is hard up in paying rent.

Susanne (Sofie Karlsson) is desperate for a pole dancing spot, but she just doesn’t have the knack for it. Teenager Ylva (Emelie Sundelin) struggles to deal with her burgeoning lust. She in fact carries playing cards bearing photos of naked men with raging hard ons. But her dilemma extends domestically. Her parents are exigently religious, thus exceedingly conservative.

Martin Jern and Emil Larsson’s “Odjuret (Savage)” assiduously follows four Swedish souls woven together by their despondent tries to better their lives. Against the backdrop of a crumbling Swedish economy and its concordant moral bankruptcy, “Savage” gives us a grim picture of a slice of Europe that we seldom hear about. Ironically, such narrative caliginosity provides a compelling watch. Skog and Soderberg carry magnetic presence that seduces you further to take the journey with them. Sundelin’s Ylva, torn between her mushrooming sexual desires and her religious restrictions, depict a well threshed out conflict. She reminds us of humanity's struggles with the flesh; aren’t we victims of our desires?

Though the characters are adequately built, their desperation doesn’t seem to exonerate the explosive conclusion; one that left me dumb founded for a few minutes as the credits rolled to a close.

“Savage” was released last year (2011). It is one of my great finds; a cinematic gem from Sweden.

Susanne's desperate to become a pole dancer.


Jesper performs illicit cam shows to save money for rent.


Ylva and Susanne head to a party for four.

Ylva frees herself from the shackles of her religion. Jesper's only too pleased to help her out.


Kim and Jesper spar away.


Ylva's temptations.


Magnus Skog


Emelie Sundelin


"Savage's" amazing quartet.


Stefan Soderberg and Magnus Skog in character.

Darry de la Cruz's Daklot - Grabbing the Void

Charles Delgado and Rocco Mateo are good friends who share their hustling ways and desperate lives in dire straits. While Charles peddles his body during intimate massage gigs with supplemental service, Rocco dances for strip clubs and turns the occasional tricks. But both rent boys are tired of their concupiscent grind. They yearn for better lives. Meanwhile, Charles patiently waits for the gay politician who promised to liberate him from indigence. Rocco, on the other hand, prefers to settle down with Charles with whom he’s harboring reticent affection.

One day, a script writer (Eddie Litada) in dire need of a cinematic material finds Charles who wasn’t interested. The latter takes the writer to his friend Rocco who gladly spins spurious and fictitious tales about his throwaway life – and about a boy named Louie (Jeremy Ian). His story’s been barely unraveled when Rocco impetuously waves a dagger at the writer. Running away with his P5,000 stash, Rocco heads straight to Charles and offers him his affection. Charles accepts, but only until his “savior” – the gay politician – fetches and takes him away to the financially-stable horizon. Unfortunately, the politician never came. Charles soon learns that this was Rocco’s undoing. What becomes of the squabbling rent boys? Will the script ever get written?

Director Darry dela Cruz (“Bingwit”, “Exsena”) has drained himself from all vestiges of ideas. After all, his “Bingwit” was similarly about despondent brothers who moonlight as rentboys bent on hooking a rich benefactor (the film also starred Charles Delgado and Jeremy Ian – and even Ike Sadiasa in its cast). His “eXsena” was about making “indie” films using cash-strapped guys. “Daklot” (Grab) is conveniently a mismatched hybrid of Dela Cruz’s earlier cinematic forays; a shameless tautology of his works. Isn’t it too early for a director who has done this much to be blatantly and artistically destitute? Why is he already paying homage to himself by retreading exactly the same stories? How soon does one run out of ideas? More importantly, should one expect flowers blooming or fruits bearing when there wasn't even a plant to begin with?

Let’s delve into the director's vacuity:

When Rocco tells his tale to the scriptwriter, he says: “Dito sa isang napakalaking basura (garbage) napunta ang isang tulad kong basura. Pareho kami ni Louie; basura ang kahapon, basura ang bukas.” And if you wonder why Dela Cruz has unyielding affinity to “garbage” (which was mentioned in redundant splendor so much more than what’s written here), it could be because he’s comfortable with such environs. The magnetism of dump is consuming and all powerful.

More lines underline Dela Cruz’s mindset. When Charles elucidates on his job, “Kung napupudpod lang ang mga ari natin, siguro ubos na,” Rocco replies with a cryptic: “Sa laki nyang sa yo, di mapupudpod yan.” Are we really talking about genitalia like they are degenerating objects? Why is a drinking buddy aware of his friend's treasures? Do they compare during their inebriation? These declarative expositions are too far removed from normal conversation, you do wonder if Mr. dela Cruz lives in an intergalactic planet outside Earth.

The scriptwriter asked Rocco to expound further when he declared: “Mahirap lang ako”. With enlightened precognition, he replies: “Mahirap na mahirap!” How eloquent, right? LOL. Dela Cruz’s linguistic facility meanwhile flourishes - by leaps and bounds - when he describes the rates involved in compensatory sexual services offered by Charles as a masseur: “P4,000 pag pinasok ko. P3,000 kung BJ. P2,000 kung handjob. P1,000 kung daklot,” deftly explains Charles’ character. “Ano yung daklot?” asked the effete customer (Lady Gorgonia). “Pocket massage,” smiled Charles, as though the heavens suddenly ruptured into flickers of comprehension. Isn’t this fun? I so adore the documentary slices of Dela Cruz’s wild, but sparse imaginings.

Daklot heralds sex scenes thirsting with passion. They all look perfunctory and without ardor. The actors might as well pick their noses instead of dryly canoodling with their joysticks. Bathing scenes abound in “Daklot”: Charles Delgado, Jeremy Ian and Rocco Mateo all display their soaping and lathering talent in various techniques. But if there’s one thing more bothersome about the film other than its artistic disendowments, it would be Darry dela Cruz’s penchant for pairing his actors with cringe-worthy, spine-tingling, horror-caliber cast.

I’ve said this before: Eroticas are meant to lure their audience with sexually attractive and desirable beings. Not induce vomiting! “Daklot” spotlights some of the most hideous individuals in several states of undress: a cachectic guy with a pockmark-ridden face; there’s a watermelon-bellied parlorista who lavishly displays his oversized gut. In these situations, cinemas should provide vomit bags the way airlines do for travels that take longer than an hour.

If carelessness were a sin, this movie would conflagrate til eternity. Here are more images that baffle:

Jeremy Ian painfully depicting an audition: “Tao din ako, Sunya!”

Gay benefactor to Charles: “Ulitin natin ito… pag pree ka at pree din ako.” Aren’t we all “pree” as a bird?

The opening scene has the script writer typing away in front of a computer screen. While his fingers move away, you suddenly notice the black outlines on the writer’s fingers. It made me shiver. How can someone display such filthy and cruddy nailbed to a curious camera? Is it so difficult to wash and scrub your hand before showing them on screen?

Even the film's conclusion is a familiar tack: Like his "Bingwit", the film delves into an act of violence from left of center. When this director finds himself lost in a state of indecision, he just repeats himself. Mas madali, debah, 'te? Producer Flor Ignacio, purveyor of 50% of these Pink Garbage is sheer shameless in employing accidental film makers who were picked from the gutter.

I am not exactly sure why Rocco Mateo succeeds in appearing from one film to the next (he was seen recently in Jigz Recto’s “Kasalo”). To be blunt about it, he delivers a line like he’s trying to stifle a toothache (imagine that). Moreover, his very round face, dark skin and flabby abdomen are features far from the standard movie lothario. Despite that, he contemptuously disrobes. He must be doing something right to be getting all these projects; something that isn’t too obvious or conspicuous on screen.

Can we peek behind cams then?

Jeremy Ian - His character Louie is a mere figment of Rocco's imagination. Yet even in Rocco's imagination, Louie does a mean lathering at the bathroom. Talk about persistence of vision. LOL

My Kontrabida Girl - Romance in Quirky Strokes

Isabel Reyes (Rhian Ramos) is the country’s favorite kontrabida. She embodies the acid tongued, duplicitous screen villain whose sophisticated beauty is as acuminous as her deceptively dainty curves.

What’s more, she abides by her notoriety – her slaps are as malevolent as her lines and she makes life hell for her co-stars. People in the street abhor her Dominique (her teleserye persona) with passion. Blind dates refuse to see her, making her hopelessly single and peerless.

One day, a destitute man prodigiously saves her from getting run over by a speeding vehicle. Such random act of kindness from a stranger becomes an epiphany for Isabel. The heavens open into a new day, and she metamorphoses into a changed woman. But this has grave consequence to her work. Ferocious and cruel Dominique dissipates into a heedful creature that can no longer pull a good old fashioned slap! What’s a searing villain without it? She has to get her mojo back – and fast!

With steadfast diligence, Isabel enlists the help of the legendary Vixens of Mean: Cherie Gil, Maritoni Fernandez and Gladys Reyes who refer her to the iconic villaness Bella Flores! This leads her to revisit her native Palawan searching for the one person who caused her sheer misery when she was a young girl – a boy named Chris Bernal (Aljur Abrenica). Bullied as a young girl, Isabel found in Chris a steady comforting presence. But one crucial night at a talent contest, Chris flusteringly stood her up. He never saw him again.

Isabel travels back to her hometown in Palawan and serendipitously finds Hotel Marot, a rundown guesthouse owned by Chris Bernal’s family! But Chris is indigent. He has relegated the management of the hotel to his wicked aunt Marot (Odette Khan) who wastes no time reminding him how much she has dispensed to keep the place afloat. Moreover, they need to come up with P50,000 at the end of the month or they lose the hotel for good. What’s a guy to do? Chris with all his physical endowments hasn't even finished school and has descended as his own hotel’s errand boy and gardener.

One fateful day, Isabel meets Chris again. Sparks fly - that much is clear, but our protagonist is there for a reason; she has a mission to fulfill. To bring down Chris Bernal! And regain the malignity that has since forsaken her. “To put enmity between the man and the woman,” declares a Biblical phrase. Heads will roll, right?

Isabel gradually plots to destroy not just Chris but everyone and everything that matters to him: the legacy of his parents, his friends, his love life (Chris has two “accidental” girl friends), his cunning Aunt Marot and cousin Rob, and his relationship with Joyce (Chris’ younger sister). But the best laid plans are no match to an intrepid heart. In delectable stages of affection, Chris and Isabel couldn’t help themselves as they eventually fall for each other. What becomes of Isabel’s errr “cactus heart”? Will she forge ahead with her plans of retribution? Will she ever get her “asim” back”?

Director Jade Castro playfully weaves a light hearted and lithe narrative that belies the dark past of the characters (bullying, abuse, parental death, poverty). The film, at the very least, is a boisterous acknowledgement to the resilience of the human spirit! Life can still be fun despite the odds and the heartaches!

Rhian Ramos comes into her own as the conflicted, but previously cantankerous villain. Though occasionally tentative in her grasp of her character, Ramos inhabits Isabel with flirtatious grace and obsequious sophistication. It’s hard not to root for her crafty shenanigans. In fact, when she goes mano-a-mano with Tita Marot at the dining table, I was livid with amusement. “Kayo pala ang nag ma-manage nito. Kumuha ba kayo ng Business Management? Para kasi syang napabayaan lang!” I was snickering from my seat all the way to the bomb shelters of Syria. And when you’re up against the formidable Odette Khan, with her protruding gaze and venomous countenance, you better hold your ground or you’re minced meat! When Isabel finally drops her trademark line: “No one tries to sampal me!” I was ready to holler, clap and whistle with glee! Having survived Miss Khan without looking dugyutin is in itself a notable rite of passage. These are moments of pure cinematic bliss indeed!

Aljur Abrenica gets lucky this time. Director Castro and co-writer Aloy Adlawan effectively play to the actor’s distinctive weaknesses. His hammy countenance is written in his character. His inclination for bad English delivery is further employed to build his character, one who hasn’t finished his education due to poverty. As a consequence, Aljur’s Chris Bernal becomes a sufficient protagonist. It isn't a stretch when a singer portrays the role of a singer, or when a priest performs the role of a priest, right?

This doesn’t mean we believe Aljur has improved and shied away from his trademark “wooden” ways. In fact, Abrenica is as hammy as ever. Those who say otherwise is afflicted with a myopic vision that's easily remedied by a consult with an Ophthalmologist.

Abrenica's performing proclivity is exemplified by a few scenes. When younger sister Joyce (Bea Binene) starts to ask “hypothetically” about romantic relationships, he blurts, “Kahit hippopotamus pa yan. Bawal pa rin!” We were looking from side to side to find the verve and fun that we obviously missed, but they were nowhere. When a customer asks Chris his opinion about a pot of plants, he stammers with a tepid: “Because p-ppplowers are nice like you, ma’am!” He need not accentuate the jologs veneer because even that delivery sounded too flat for amusement.

Abrenica inconveniently lacks insight. As gorgeously delectable as he looks onscreen, Aljur is a vacuous canvas, beautiful to look at, but nothing more than a pretty exhibit in a room. This is a curiosity because he wasn’t this pedestrian in Maryo J. delos Reyes’ “Nandito Ako… Nagmamahal sa Yo” (his first film under Regal Films, 2009). What happened to the promising young actor who would become “Machete”?

Some scenes needed cleaner execution. Let’s take Aljur and Rhian’s quasi-tango which is painfully executed. The moves are shot in episodic cuts; the dips and turns rough and graceless. There should be flow to the dance of affection, but there’s nothing there but the staged claps of the local folks who all looked bored! What about that messy and slipshod Awards Night? It reminded me of the campy Awards Night in the original “Temptation Island” – that was 32 darn years ago! Despite these flaws, there’s fun to be had in Isabel’s journey back home.

Though “My Kontrabida Girl” isn’t as solid as Jade Castro’s previous works (“Zombadings”, “My Big Love”, “Endo”), the upbeat performance of its cast, the undeniable energy, the kinetic pace and tongue in cheek humor will ultimately win you over. “The Road” has ushered an era of renaissance of sorts for GMA, and I am nothing less than ecstatic! The film has artistically clobbered the horrendous “Corazon Ang Unang Aswang” as they come to a head. After years of banal movie projects, GMA has finally found its mojo back!

Derrick Monasterio and Julie Anne San Jose sing Janno Gibbs' ode to affection, "Ang Aking Puso". The music video, though sparse, is an engaging watch.




Aljur Abrenica and Rhian Ramos

Bea Binene and Jake Vargas as young lovers Joyce and Poy.


Ever clueless posterboy of masculine beauty.


Chris' wacky friends get punked into doing the full monty. They then discover their "shortcomings" going viral in one of the film's hilarious scenes.