Jason Paul Laxamana's "Magkakabaung" - A Gem in a Festival

Randy Alcantara (Allen Dizon) lives a facile, albeit joyless life as a single parent to sickly 8 year old Angeline (Felixia Crysten Dizon) in bucolic San Vicente where dust settles on crops and its murky river. Randy is a coffin maker in nearby Santo Tomas where he takes home P285 for a day of carpentry work. A devout father to his child, Randy’s only vice is mischievous town beauty Neri (Chanel Latorre) who mostly takes him for a ride in exchange of phone load and the occasional night out at the cinema. One day, Randy, along with his colleagues, gets hired for an overnighter to rush 60 coffins for a Congressman’s charity project. This will earn him P800 and a day off work thereafter.

Before rushing to work, Randy buys antibiotics (Amoxicillin) for Angeline who’s febrile and coughing, and tells her to take the medicine while he’s out to work. Later that night, Randy comes home to a child who’s barely breathing. He rushes Angeline to the hospital, but it was too late. Fraught with guilt for having given his daughter a drug she’s allergic to, Randy is helplessly unhinged. What’s worse, his P800 salary doesn’t suffice to claim his daughter’s corpse. Where will he get P1,500 to pay the hospital bills?

But like an expeditious reply to his cry for help, Pablo Canda (Emilio Garcia) comes along offering him P2,000, saying “We’ll settle this loan later”. Canda turns in profits by peddling corpses, albeit illegally, to medical schools in need of cadavers. Now, Randy is torn between selling his daughter’s dead body for a P20,000 profit or paying Mr. Canda P10,000 so Randy could finally take home Angeline who now lies in Mr. Canda’s funeral home.

In the morning, Randy makes an unexpected visit to Mabel (Gladys Reyes), Angeline’s biological mother, now blissfully married to an American. He asks for her help so they could claim Angeline’s corpse. Mabel acquiesces. After all, Angeline is her daughter too. But she wants Angeline’s body to undergo autopsy. “Ako na’ng bahala,” she insists. This presents a dilemma for the still-discombobulated Randy who’s aware that he could be pinned down for his daughter’s untimely demise. What to do?

The film tells its story like a slow burn, thus you won't miss any of the salient points the film tries to convey. This richness of ideas thrives within the story: lessons on self-medication; single parenthood; desperation of people who treat corpses like salable commodities; that sending a dead body to a hospital can cost you P2,300; and the anecdote of the coffin maker who eventually ends up making one for his own daughter.

Allen Dizon, as Randy Alcantara, makes a career-best performance that unusually reeks with cinematic paradox, i.e. emotive vulnerability and confidence we’ve never seen from the actor’s previous works. Without any hint of awkwardness we usually find him in (e.g. Joel Lamangan’s “Kamkam” and Joven Tan’s “Paupahan”), Dizon immersively loses himself in portraying the beleaguered father who may have caused his daughter’s death. His character is adequately entangled in a bind where the harder he tries to extricate himself out of his self-inflicted predicament; the deeper he digs himself a hole. And there seemingly is no light, or ladder if you will, at the end of the tunnel.

Director Laxamana makes adequate use of the region’s local color, giving the film a crisp atmosphere that’s typically rural and a visually fresh scenography. He likewise succeeds using local language to convey a deceptively laidback atmosphere without alienating his audience (i.e. those who don’t understand Kapampangan or are allergic – not just to Amoxicillin – but to subtitles as well). What’s better, his ensemble is a commendable lot: Gladys Reyes, Chanel Latorre, Emilio Garcia, Bor Ocampo and even the comebacking former-sexy star Tonio Ortigas all contribute to a suspenseful cautionary tale. 

Jason Paul Laxamana’s “Magkakabaung” (The Coffin Maker) benefits from the script’s anti-drama swerve, refusing to spiral down into melodramatic sentimentalism despite obvious avenues into the story. Laxamana deftly employs long takes to tell his narrative sequences; a ploy that usually requires patience, precise blockings and time-consuming rehearsals or re-takes. What unravels before you is an organic flow of events - and a very cohesive story telling that’s hard to shake off. Laxamana’s compelling yarn-spinning feels like the perfect delivery of a promise seen in his earlier works, “Astro Mayabang” and “Babagwa”. There are a few misplaced snippets (like the scene showing the “possessed or convulsing girl”) but most of the details harmoniously settle into a fully realized cinematic work. Without a doubt, “Magkakabaung” is my favorite; it is undoubtedly this MMFF New Wave edition’s best picture, and one the year’s finest.

THE REST OF THE MMFF NEW WAVE ENTRIES

While we're at it, you may not want to miss Zsa zsa Padilla's delectable turn as the cancer-stricken, foul-mouthed lawyer Bella Monteclaro in Zig Dulay's  "M (A Mother's Maiden Name)" where Nico Antonio likewise delivers a spot-on portrayal as Joven, Bella's gay son. Dulay's film is peppered with hilarious one-liners that render this film its stab of irony, i.e. to be funny despite its theme tackling morbidity and mortality. Get this: Bella dresses down her secretary with a caustic one-liner: "Mas madami sigurong tanga sa mundo kung hindi mo sinasarili." Nga naman. Or when she says, "Allergic ako sa pretensions. Nangangati ako sa plastic." Or when Bella discusses the essence of real beauty with son Joven and he says, "Ang ganda ay di nakikita sa labas, kundi nasa kalooban ng tao." Bella counters this with, "Yan ang argument ng mga pangit."

The film eventually takes a road trip that uproots Bella to a small town where her mayordoma, Manang Minda (Gloria Sevilla) lives to tend to her sick daughter Liway (Sue Prado). This chapter somehow meanders, but is leavened by scenes involving Joven and a strapping barrio lad named Anton Tumacder, middle named "Malaki" played with flirtatious mien by Marx Topacio and the adorable Nico Antonio who never resorts to thespic excesses common among "screen fags". Yes, not all gays are screaming, flaming fags. Antonio's restrained act smacks of discipline. His performance frames Padilla's acerbic disposition; Antonio's "yang" to Padilla's "yin". And they make a truly complementary pair too pleasant to ignore.  

Arlyn dela Cruz's "Maratabat" is a cautiously made, must-see flick that should remind people of the excesses of power. While Kristoffer King is rightfully sinister as doped out Mayor Ismael, we have trouble picturing his deportment as mayorly, and we require just a hint of this. You get no argument from me though on the fact that he was vicious and scary. His rape scene with Chanel Latorre is particularly jarring, and should not be watered down by mere suggestions. It deserved to be captured on cam. Ping Medina (playing Ronwaldo Maharlika) may have an uncanny semblance to Mr.Toto Mangudadatu, but Medina's performance is compromised by a technical flaw in his delivery of lines - a bothersome breathing technique. His inhalatory excursions are placed midway between sentences, and are thus disturbing. This is most obvious in his speech before his supporters to announce his candidacy as governor of the province running head-on against a sturdy political nemesis Salvador Abubakar (Julio Diaz). It felt like he was going into an asthmatic exacerbation.

We're not quite sure how to "digest" Ma. Diane Ventura's "Mulat" and it's confounding vicious cycle of arguments and counter-arguments about relationships. At some point, it got too exhausting I just wanted them to break up already and just shut their yappers. Take your dose of lithium already, Samantha. One thing's sure though, Loren Burgos is a cinematic find though she needs to work on her "crying technique". You cannot sob away like there's no tomorrow sans tears, unless you have Nasolacrimal Duct Obstruction, but then that's remediable. An ophthalmologist can irrigate on your lacrimal duct for 5 minutes and then you're good as new. If however, for some reason you want to acquire a slice (or two) of tension headache amid lush cinematography, try Ato Bautista's "Gemini". And bring two boxes of super-strength, extended release Ibuprofen with you.   

Guaranteed tension headache.

Mabel receives news of her daughter's untimely demise.

Rindido - Rage Against Mediocrity

Nowhere in the world is foreign employment considered as noble as Jose Rizal or Benigno Aquino who sacrificed freedom and life for the common good. The Philippines has in fact made it hip and socially palatable – “Bagong Bayani”!

But since remittances of such OFW’s have somehow kept our country afloat from economic catastrophe, we started placing labels for them.

WHAT IS A HERO

Don't get me wrong, I have the highest respect for their sacrifices. Yet if I were the foreign worker, I wouldn’t give much thought to the affairs of the state. Truth is, if I cared enough, I would never leave my nativeland! I would not seek greener pastures elsewhere!

If I were an OFW, I would work abroad for inherently selfish reasons – not for the common good, but for myself and my family alone! My family! Not others! If that makes me a modern-day hero, then everyone around the world who works for self and family should rightfully be called a “hero”, right? After all, what does that make the Pinoys who opted to suffer through his country’s various upheavals by toiling the local soil – or burning the midnight flame – in the land where he was born? Are non-OFW’s really less of a hero for working so hard to get so little?

RAGE AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN

Director Noriel Jarito spins a tale on the anatomy of “rage” which, according to some of the production’s drumbeaters, is what “Rindido” means. Of course we have to disagree, graciously that is. “Rindido” or “rendido” is a pang-uring panlarawan (adjective) that covers the following: “litong lito”, “lawit na ang dila sa pagod”, “patang pata”. Nowhere is “rage” or “fury” in the realm of the aforementioned. If they wanted a more dramatic title, “Panibugho” would have been more appropriate; a weird-sounding title (much like how obscure "Rindido" is) one that belies depth would have been “Pangingimbulo”. But let’s leave it with “Rindido”. It's all just word play anyway.

CAPSULE

Efren (Noriel Jarito) is a middle aged overseas foreign worker (OFW) who, one day, finds himself abruptly unemployed. From Saudi Arabia, he flies back home with just a backpack and a hand-carried brown box. The tortuous way home is littered with robbers so he turns up empty handed, and surprised. He runs across his mistress Lani (Chanel Latorre) locked in embrace with resident plumber Carlos (Vic Tiro). He drops his backpack and sends Carlos away running for dear life, but Carlos’ drinking buddies help the latter until Efren’s beaten into a pulp. Cut to: Efren and Lani in passionate lovemaking. Didn’t he catch his wife in flagrante just a few minutes ago? Now he’s pumping and pouncing away like there’s no tomorrow. No bruising or puffy cheeks expected from someone who just got mauled by three thugs!

After their fervid copulation, the big dramatic moment ensues. Lani implores, “Pag usapan natin ang nangyari kanina, Ren.” Then she weaves a hokey scenario that justifies her misdeeds. That she was coerced by Carlos at knife-point. Then she moronically adds, “Ikaw kasi, ang tagal mong nawala!” But if you listened carefully from their neighbor’s soundbites, you’d hear one saying, “Eh kahahatid ko lang nyan sa airport!” Ano ba talaga, ate? Then Lani goes further (digging herself a grave): “Alam kong mali ang ginawa ko!” You were intimidated yet you admit fault? Something doesn't add up. Now you understand exactly where Efren is coming from if he suddenly runs amok, right?

Fun after getting clobbered! He found out he's been cheated - yet he ends up shagging her. Then he gets her explanations later. Get it?

Told in non-linear fashion, the premise is rather simple. Noriel Jarito who wears several hats (producer, director, script writer, cinematographer, actor) obviously wants his cake and eat it too. The result is a slapdash ouvre that meanders into a myopic character study that doesn’t even bear new insight on the plight of foreign workers, fidelity, or enviable artistry. Each character is cardboard caricature, with a weak level of insight on the inherent motivation of its people. Jarito wears a single facial expression throughout the film; he has this seemingly blunt affect that slightly changes when he closes his eyes during coitus. Let’s not even mention that middle aged Jarito isn’t your typical empathy-inspiring protagonist: Efren is balding, dark and pot bellied - and morose looking! Why he believes he’d make the rightful lead is beyond us, and that doesn’t make it right! Vanity is such a blinding nuisance, it deflects focus.

That Jarito is a real former OFW isn’t a valid excuse for him to play one on screen while the movie-going public is paying for this sad truth. The script seems to be a product of an after-thought with nothing much in between lines. Direction is banal and mostly careless as well. While Efren was on his way to his apartment, imagine one character saying, “Naku, andun pa si Diego. Ay si Carlo pala!” LOL. One friggin line that’s easily editable, but it ends up in the film anyway. In the fight scene where Efren’s victims fall down the floor, you don’t see any gushing blood. Instead they are faded dried up red stains. The only hint of emotion we saw was when Efren was holding his hostage (Lotlot Bernardo), with knife on the other hand. He tentatively says, “Wag kang malikot!” Like he was blowing away a mosquito. Realizing it was too weak a statement, he shouted the second time, “Wag kang malikot.” Which he meant this time around. Talk about conviction.

Vic Tiro plays Carlos (or was it Diego?), Banjo Romero the posture-perfect policeman, and Chanel Latorre as the bitch-in-heat Lani. Unfortunately, a lackluster script meant to highlight Efren leaves these three other characters with docile, albeit one-note performances. The film surreptitiously ends with a baffling shot of the Manila skyline hosting a fireworks display. What that was for is a mystery. An antithesis maybe? But I highly doubt that was the objective.

Balletic fight scenes

I don’t see glory (the celebratory "fireworks") in the carnage borne out of someone’s misfortune. And if this were another form of homage to the OFW, someone has to be answerable to its dank mediocrity. In my book, there is no accolade for the adulterer. That he suffers gravely from his unemployment is maybe something that he richly deserves for abandoning a wife and a child. Clocking in at just 1 hour, this film feels like a protracted flicker of an idea more than a film feature. Paying P171 to watch it is like buying that expensive ice cream (Cold Rock Ice Cream in Greenbelt, anyone?), but then you accidentally dropped it on the floor! Ooops!

“Rindido” was one of the five Metro Manila Filmfest indie picks – one of the five that was never shown commercially. This then begs the question: Who were the people in-charge in screening these indies? Are they mentally challenged? Or were the choices drawn blindly by picking lots randomly from a bowl? Once again, shame on you, MMFF organizers! Now I know why these indies were never shown commercially at the MMFF.

WHAT IS PATRONAGE WORTH?

When a moviegoer pays somewhere between P150 to P220 to watch a movie at the cinema, do we owe anything to their well-intentioned filmmakers? “No” is a resounding answer! Do they owe us good cinema? You bet they do! We paid for good cinema. And it isn’t enough that the end-product is borne out of good intentions or anybody’s blood, sweat and tears. Our payment circumvents their hardship, but not necessarily our loyal appreciation. What if we say, such product is a tribute to a long-suffering segment of society (OFWs)? Is patronage equivalent to false appreciation when there’s not much merit worth celebrating for? This is a disservice to the foreign workers - as they are depicted adulterers, unstable, killers! Do we praise a film such as this one? That would constitute infarction against the 9^th commandment (Exodus 20:16) - Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour. Ergo, thou shall not lie! Not just to self but to others as well.

I cannot lie!

Robin Padilla-wannabe Banjo Romero is the policeman caught in a balletically, graciously choreographed fight scene with Jarito. This was gun versus knife! And having known that Efren has already killed several people, guess who died? LOL

Vic Tiro is plumber Carlos who attends to Lani's clogged pipes.

Chanel LaTorre's enviable talent of devouring a banana.

Like wearing a mask?