Bb. Joyce Bernal's "The Super Parental Guardians" - That Vice Ganda Magic!

Arci aka Ariel Ciriaco Taulava (Vice Ganda) works as the executive assistant of Madam Marife delos Santos (Assunta de Rossi), wife of the influential spokesperson of the Philippine National Police. He also doubles as the social media manager and runner of the impatient madam who promises to help him get employment in Korea where he dreams of working as an interior designer. To add to his growing list of chores, he's tasked to house-sit the matron's mansion currently undergoing renovations.  

One day, he unexpectedly reunites with Sarah Nahbati (Matet de Leon), his childhood best friend. When Sarah falls victim to the series of murders happening in her neighborhood, Arci gets the custody of Sarah's children, 12-year old Megan aka Melvin Gaspar and 5-year old Ernie (Awra Briguella and Onyok Pineda, respectively). 

But not if Paco aka Neil Nahbati (Coco Martin), the children's uncle, can help it. To keep the kids in a safer surroundings, Paco decides to take shelter in Arci's home (which isn't really his to begin with).

Together, the odd couple play momshie and papsie to the precocious kids who are having difficulties in school. Ernie can't be stopped from scribbling all over his school walls. Megan's grades are plummeting ("from 97's to 79's"). A mother's death, a new guardian and relocation don't exactly make life easy for children, right? Meanwhile, Paco, a former gang leader, is turning over a new leaf as he pursues being a stunt man. But his immediate past is briskly catching up with him. In fact, he is being pursued by Jake (Joem Bascon), his gang's arch enemy - and the current boyfriend of ex-flame Emme (Bela Padilla). 

When Megan and Ernie are kidnapped by Jake's minions, Paco and Arci must act fast. Or this would spell the end of their bahay bahayan.

Bb. Joyce Bernal's "The Super Parental Guardians" has a story that mirrors contemporary events. Suddenly, the life of the Filipinos is peppered with vigilantes. People are dropping like flies because a segment of society has decided to play judge, jury and executioner. If this isn't enough, the unfortunate respondents to the growing statistics even includes "kahit yung mga mukhang drug addict". You can be a suspect and die - without getting a day in court! If this is an idiot's interpretation on the concept of peace and security, then you can forget that civilization actually follows a set of rules - and the constitution - that also safeguards against abuse.   

This makes cinema a relevant mirror of society. But enough of this wanton philosophizing. This isn't the right vehicle for this topic. The story also becomes a flimsy smokescreen to the production's main objective - a festival-grade money-making scheme. How else do you explain the sudden appearance of a game-console button that spits up exploding balls? Did Vice suddenly acquire magical powers from Engkantasia? 

Then when Arci, along with his beki troop, pursues the bad guys at a train depot, they find Megan and Ernie tied up on a hand rail, and forthwith there appears zombies bound for Boo-san. Yeah, we understand satire, but even the most popular ones need to make sense within a story. Unless, of course, if time is running fast and a deadline is being pursued - so you conjure narrative strains that don't even fit in the mold. But that is an act of desperation.   

Vice Ganda is a cut above the rest. He can make the silliest lines hilarious. His witticism easily translates into physical and verbal humor. And there are quite a number here. Like when he gets his Korean visa and unexpectedly meets Matet. The bag-hitting stunt would have been silly, but it drew laughter all around. 

Scenes from the wake similarly succeed in bringing forth amusement, particularly when he was making selfies with the corpse; then again when he gives his beki troop Kathryn, Liza and Nadine (MC, Lassy and Kiray Celis) a streak of face smacks. That was slapstick, and as old as the Three Stooges. Not fond of it, but it was funny nevertheless. One particularly silly number happens when newly arrived Arci takes a photo of an unwelcoming maid. We knew that the "Ay, na lowbat!" punch line was coming, but sometimes jokes gain their hilarity from a comic's competence.   

Coco Martin gets his cue from the world of Cardo, his character in the top-rating "Ang Probinsyano". Unfortunately, while Cardo brims with charm, Paco lacks the empathy of his television persona. 

It doesn't help that Paco postures like an action star - and constantly wears a sulk. Sure, his TV series is hard to topple, but let this be a reminder that there's a very valid reason why the action genre has died a natural death. If he decides to embark on a movie career as an action star from hereon, he will soon realize why the genre has rested in peace, thank heavens.

Coco isn't absolutely charmless, as when he occasionally flirts with the boisterous Arci. Or when he walks out of after a confrontation with Arci saying, "Yuck!" His lisp is occasionally onerous, but he has learned to be comfortable with it. In real life, lisping doesn't diminish a person's functional capacity. Yun nga lang, these little imperfections are magnified on screen. As the story comes to its climax, Coco makes a go with Gary Valenciano's "Wag Ka Ng Umiyak" bringing the audience to hilarity.  

AWRA AND ONYOK

Awra Briguella is given his spotlight, as he squares of, if a bit prematurely, with the seasoned Vice. Some memorable scenes: Megan competes with Vice for the hunky construction workers' attention. While they serve them spaghetti, Arci offers them chicken lollipops and Megan has his glutinous "ginataang bilo bilo". In another scene, Arci suffers from Megan's acrobatic number at Family Day. That was kickass hilarious! Onyok Pineda, unfortunately, fails to translate his magic on celluloid. His lines are either shrill or labored.  

Some jokes don't quite make the grade: the sudden appearance of the Leila de Lima-lookalike shouting from nowhere (it was a punch line without a premise); the ramen-date of Coco and Vice and the noodle-pulling stint; and the appearance of the zombies. 

That they didn't give Kiray Celis a more substantial part is a wasted opportunity. This little girl is funny as heck. If they didn't realize, Kiray is one of the year's biggest box-office stars, courtesy of the blockbuster movie, "Love is Blind". MC, Lassy and Negi give considerable support. I won't mind seeing them again in future comedy films.

I first time saw the movie on it's opening day after watching "Enteng Kabisote 10 and the Abangers" so it was easy to compare the influx of people. Let's just say someone got butchered in this competition. 

I watched it again yesterday in SM, to accompany my mom, where 5 of its 12 cinemas (including IMAX and Director's Club) were showing "SPG". Sotto's "Enteng" was showing in only 2 cinemas. In Light Mall, they've already pulled out "Enteng" in favor of the disappointing vampire flick "Underworld: Blood Wars".

BOX OFFICE 

Industry insiders whisper that Star Cinema padded its P65 million opening (Enteng has P14 million). But if you consider the ratio of theater distribution, it seems very possible to earn as much as they said they did. As I write this (Sunday), Robinson's Galleria has 3 cinemas for "SPG" and 1 for "EK". SM North Edsa (and The Block) has 4 cinemas for "SPG" and 1 for "EK". Gateway has 3 cinemas for "SPG"and 2 for "EK". Greenbelt 3 does not show "EK"at all. "SPG" has allegedly breached the P150 million-mark on its 4-day run.

While I am not entirely sold on the artistry of "SPG", the movie made me laugh. But there are portions also that spotlight its weaknesses. The zombie appearance is one part. That scene alone was a palpable reminder why "SPG" didn't quite make the festival grade this year. 

But if Vice Ganda has something to say about his film's non-inclusion, he wasn't going to shut up about it. In its climactic end, he bawls his heart out and shouts, "Ba't kami hindi nasali sa filmfest?!" Then he blames the kids: "Dahil yata sa mga batang ito." Stroke of brilliance. It was so darn funny. 

But it also made people think. Money rules?

Or maybe, it's something simpler. 

Note:

Please read our featured post about Web Criticism:
- http://makemeblush2.blogspot.com/2016/10/cinema-bravo-film-criticisms-execrable.html




#superparentalguardians   #viceganda   #cocomartin   #joycebernal   #awrabriguela   #onyokpineda

Jerry Lopez Sineneng's "Maybe This Time" - All Around Awful

Awful. I was incredibly perplexed. When Sarah Geronimo opened “Maybe This Time” with a voice over, it was like listening to a “best elocution exercise”. It could earn a good mark if we were in class, but it was an exercise nevertheless. Deriving sincerity from her skewed delivery was another thing. Why Geronimo would exclusively speak in the Queen’s tongue in a story that involved Tagalog-spewing Pinoy blue collar workers is as baffling as Kris Aquino comparing “My Little Bossings” and “Spiderman 2”. It was off-putting to say the least, because it came out stilted and unnatural. Lea Salonga in “The Voice” commented that Geronimo’s English is improving. “Push mo yan,” she’d egg her on, but hearing Geronimo’s “There was never as ussssssssssss….” kept giving me goose bumps. Sharon Cuneta spoke impeccable English yet her quotable film quotes were kilometric Tagalog words, not vacuous pretentious English phrases that reeked of hollow emotions and cliches lifted from some undisclosed romantic novels. Viva Films is apparently trying hard to elevate Sarah’s hip quotient. If Jerry Lopez Sineneng’s film is any indication, then they’re doing Sarah a disservice because it is becoming obvious what she is not.

The story leaves much to be desired. Boy meets girl (Coco Martin and Sarah Geronimo, respectively) during the latter’s outreach program in an idyllic seaside community. He flirts with her while she’s giving the poor children reading lessons. But what can you say about a guy who disrupts classes, flirts in front of the kids, puts his arms on her shoulder without any resistance, sweeps her off her feet and carries her to the sea – all these even before he officially asks if he could court her. Yeah, sure, we’re tickled pink. Their world is an alternate universe of light-hearted romance. Yipee! But we have to wait for another day before she accepts his romantic offering, right? When that day finally comes, Sarah learns that she’s been abandoned. No notes, no goodbyes, no text messages, no emails, no YM offline nor Kakao talk messages. Nada. This was of course 10 years ago.

Present day. Sarah, aka Stephanie Asuncion, works for an advertising firm whose main client is Kakao Talk (so we basically know how juvenile and cheap the company is, right?) This is headed by Ruffa Gutierrez aka Boss Monica, who eats Steph for breakfast, Steph for lunch and, once again, Steph for dinner. Monica detests Steph’s ideas so much that she had to entrust an exquisitely important project to – drum roll please! – Steph! At this point, my neck wasn't moving sideways, but spinning Linda Blair 360 degrees. Why hand over a special account to the underling who constantly drew your ire? The math here just doesn't add up. But then how would Sarah and Coco (aka Anton Bugayon) meet again if we don’t overlook this unbelievable lapse of judgement and turn of events?

Turns out, Steph is still sporting a heartache, and Anton is likewise carrying a torch for Steph. Between our star-crossed lovers is a tall and statuesque, Prada-toting Monica, replete with her middle-aged lateral canthal crow’s feet. What to do?

MISMATCHED

In 2010, Sarah Geronimo and Coco Martin starred in “Idol”, a Glee-inspired TV series that didn’t fly. In fact this was unceremoniously shut down way before it’s supposed to. Even Sarah’s million-and-counting Popsters were so bored with it, they kept their distance. Writing was middling and painfully derivative, but more than that, there was no real and palpable chemistry between the two stars. What changed 4 years later? Nothing. Their pairing is as tepid now as it once was. You would think they’d learn from the TV debacle, right?

If Sarah and Coco are a match made in purgatory, Ruffa Gutierrez’s presence is a behemoth mystery. Think Bermuda Triangle, or the Stonehenge, or (ready with those lightning-catchers!!!) Kris Aquino shamelessly proclaiming herself as the Oprah Winfrey of the Philippines. Gutierrez is simply too superannuated to complete the romantic triangle of an already belabored screen pairing. And if she were a tad intuitive as an actress, she could have helped sweeten the already murky cinematic palette. But Ruffa is a Gutierrez and what have we realized about the Gutierrezes as far as thespic quotient is concerned?

That an advertising firm is suddenly tasked to turn a sorely lisping new millionaire into a socially copacetic restaurateur is one for the fairy tales. Isn't owning P40 million socially fragrant enough? They could have invested on a speech coach who could doctor the sibilant-heavy script, couldn't they? Aga Muhlach lisps but we were never aggrieved by his deliveries in movies. Coco meanwhile struggles, and these awkward moments pile up like a dozen crucifixes on our shoulder. Oh how I suffered.

WORLD RECORD OF WORSTS

The bigger question is, why was everyone in “Maybe This Time” ridiculously bad, it almost felt like it was vying for a world record of worst performances in a single movie. Steph’s trio of friends were ill-conceived. They were fugly, a fabricated gay man and an idiotic looking lass who consistently looked befuddled. Ogie Diaz as Mama Mae was more eccentric than funny you simply wanted him rushed to the loony bin. Even Shamaine Centenera – in her worst performance ever - is dragged down by a vomit-inducing script fit for GMA Films, not a Star Cinema vehicle. It’s just embarrassing! 

GREED AND THE PINOY ARTIST

Now, which self-respecting “artist” would allow his narrative dredged with product placements? Only the greedy ones – Sharon Cuneta and Mark Meilly did this with “Crying Ladies”; Sarah Geronimo did the same with “Hating Kapatid”; Kris Aquino sprinkled that cinematic garbage called “My Little Bossings” with 20 products; now it’s Coco Martin’s turn – a pawnshop, an over-the-counter analgesic, an alcoholic beverage. If you are conscientious of the products you are endorsing, why would you endorse a business which takes advantage of the miseries of people in dire need of financial support? The pawning business is largely unregulated, thus it has unfair practices that prey on people’s desperation. Saying that it provides beneficent service to the needy is akin to proclaiming that Dracula loves his victims. ;) Sarah and Coco lovingly endorse this business. How inspiring, debah?

Product placements in a medium where people pay hard-earned money to watch and be entertained is simply a disrespectful and reprobate practice to a paying audience. Pambabastos. This is something Viva Films and Kris Aquino have yet to realize, but then the latter lives in the cloud of fantasy she wouldn't even comprehend the simple concept of delicadeza. There should be a law that would require local movies to have disclaimers outside the cinema stating how many "commercial products" are being peddled in the film. Say, "My Little Bossings" - 20 products; "Hating Kapatid" - 9 products, etc. This way, the movie going public will be made aware of such flagrant and abusive peddling. Enter at your own risk. Think Chito Rono's "Feng Shui" if it had shampoos, cooking broth, laundry products, fastfood chain, sanitary napkin, etc. in its story. Pakapalan na lang ng mukha, right Sarah?

Sometime in the film’s last third, the narrative downspirals into a mawkish melodrama. To tie the narrative pieces to an undeserved denouement, Steph enters an exhibition hall riddled with driftwood art pieces. What struck me were the droll, mediocre driftwood displays. Oh my goodness. No wonder Monica wanted to do away with Anton’s lofty ambitions. Weren't we supposed to be impressed? With such abominable driftwood displays, not by a long shot. I wouldn't take a single piece at home even if they gave them away for free.The point being, the story was supposed to show Anton's special skills in making precious pieces from driftwood. Turns out he was an unexceptional artist. Ho-hum! Back to the drawing board. He can't be an artist so he might as well be a restaurant owner. Get my drift?

We’re so glad that “Maleficent” had a bigger crowd when we watched both films on their opening day, considering that Jolie’s superlative film was screened in two cinemas and “Maybe This Time” only had one. Cinema Evaluations Board once again misrates the movie with a stupendous B rating. We’re not surprised. The people who populate the C.E.B. are the some of the most clueless, or opportunistic, individuals to have walked the earth. In this case, “B” could refer to that six-letter Tagalog word that means “waste, debris, rubble, trash, sweepingssssssssss”. And just maybe Sarah can elocute these enumerated words adequately.

"Maybe This Time" is like going to a buffet and coming home with steady bout of flatus. You pay much and are rewarded with nothing but air. Anyone who declares that it's a "solid movie" does not know what he's talking about, that's for sure.

Laughing all the way to the bank with a cinematic turd.

Emmanuel Palo's A Moment in Time - Charm and Romantic Blunders

The first time Patrick (Coco Martin) sets his eyes on Jillian (Julia Montes) during a train ride, he couldn’t take his eyes off the cautious lass. But getting her name and meeting her were a different matter. The pretty lady is reticent with her associations, keeping mostly to her limited social circle. All she wants is to continue her studies in Amsterdam and forget a rather nebulous past.

Patrick pursues Jillian, painting her likeness on public walls and serenading the girl in her school. With such persistence, Jillian eventually gives in to Patrick’s unabashed romanticism. But unknown to Patrick, Jillian’s past isn’t so isolated from his. The young lad and his sister Mai (Ella Cruz) were orphaned three years ago when their Qatar-bound mother (Zsa zsa Padilla) was run over by a car.

What happens when Patrick finally strings their perplexing past? Will he be as gracious as his courting ways? More importantly, will he be magnanimous?

Emmanuel Palo’s “A Moment in Time” makes a cinematic discourse on the nature of love and its aptitude to exculpate fatal blunders of the past. Coating his artistic canvas with cotton candy scenography, the film is as charming as its leads. Coco Martin, after a sketchy turn in Jerome Pobocan’s “Born to Love You”, succeeds with an imprudent, if disproportionate delineation of a grieving man who pulls out all the stops to woo a dismissive girl who, it turns out, has demons of her own.

It’s refreshing to see a relaxed Coco Martin far from the teeth-gnawing rigor of melodrama. He embellishes his performance with pizzazz, imbuing the screen with wide grins and even a delightful song (Orange and Lemons’ “Umuwi Ka Na Baby”) and dance (oohlala!) scene. Julia Montes displays her considerable gravitas in a performance that becomes one of the greatest suffering heroines of the silver screen. She befittingly complements Martin’s charismatic romcom hero.

The plot is predictable at times, and there are occasional annoying strains in its narrative formation; i.e. once successful in their romantic pursuit, they always end up turning away. It’s a head scratcher really, but formula is what gives the genre its hustle.

It could have been an interesting dissertation following its earlier premise: What indeed is the face of love? But this strain gets forfeited in the narrative ruble. We don't expect mainstream cinema to go further than cursory glimpses beyond philosophical musings.

Plot contrivances are inherent in local romcoms. Regardless, “A Moment in Time” is a harmless entertainment fodder that rightfully bestows a feather in the adorably lisping Coco Martin’s romcom cup. 

As for Julia Montes, this German-Pinay beauty proves to her audience that her irrefutable boobtube success in the teleserye “Walang Hanggan” is no fluke. After all, it’s hard to argue with a full crowd who riddles the cinema atmosphere with romantic giggles. Let’s forget for a few minutes that getting a Schengen visa for a European sojourn isn't as easy – or as cheap as a P180,000 bank deposit - as they’d have you believe. 

Coco Martin bikes around Amsterdam's scenic countryside.

Julia Montes as Jillian Linden: stricken with guilt.

Coco Martin  as Patrick becomes a full-fledged romcom hero. 

Emmanuel Palo's Sta. Nina - Coco Martin and Redemption

The parched and dusty sprawl in the sleepy town of Bacolor reflects the moral stagnation that has characterized Pol Mungcal’s life in the last ten years since his two-year old daughter Marikit died from meningitis. His abode is a desolate landscape of dust, mud and haze. And he subsists by quarrying the ravages of laharland. One fateful day, children unwittingly exhume the coffin that bears Marikit’s corpse. What’s baffling? The child looks well preserved and doesn’t show signs of decay.

With steadfast resolve, Pol (Coco Martin) embraces the coffin and singlehandedly takes his “child” back to town. His thoughts are a flurry of suppositions. This can’t be mere accident. It has to mean something.

Pol lives with a demented, albeit burdensome grandmother, Lola Bining (Anita Linda), in an unfinished house. Madel (Alessandra de Rossi), Marikit’s mother and Pol’s cousin, has long abandoned Pol for a life of less scrutiny by morally supercilious and economically gaunt townsfolk. Pol even turned his back sculpting religious artifacts out of wood. For someone who has lost so much from his missteps in the past, Pol is suddenly seized by a sense of hope. Could Marikit be his ticket to redemption?  

News spreads like wildfire. Soon people from the hinterlands visit to witness a miracle; something that hardly comes to an impoverished town gripped by apathy. People seem to hold on to faith in times of desperation. The crowd outside Pol’s home grows by the day. The ailing governor even drops by, hoping there’s cure for his cirrhosis. Even the media’s been poking its ugly head. When Madel gets wind of this, she tells Pol to just bury their daughter, but he wouldn't budge. Everyone believes. But the church. After all, not a long time ago, Melchor, a young man who allegedly saw the Virgin Mary, turned out to be a hoax. These days, Melchor is a crossdressing person named Zora. He is reviled by his neighbors and “sinusuka ng simbahan”. People are understandably more circumspect.

Then ailing people start getting healed. Lola Bining regains her lucidity. The governor’s cirrhosis disappears. Ben, the dysuric neighbor, can urinate with ease. His financially struggling – and very pregnant wife Malou – wins lottery. A child’s neck mass recedes. Who can turn their back on this spate of miracles? The town experiences resurgence of religious conviction. Pol now wants his daughter’s corpse – and accompanying wooden sculptures - be blessed and proclaimed a saint. The believers soon organize a “lakbayan” (a procession) to rally for Marikit’s sainthood in front of the Bishop. What becomes of Pol, Madel. Lola Bining, and the hundreds of faithful? Is Marikit really miraculous? Or will she turn out to be another ruse like Zora?

Director Emmanuel Palo’s “Sta. Nina” rankles with an immersive premise that hooks you tightly into its exposition. In fact, the story telling is grandiose; it reminds you of the narrative dissertation of old classics like Bernal’s “Himala”. There’s diligent care in the build-up of characters; each one subsumed by transpicuous insight. This is evident in the dynamics of relationship among Pol, Madel, Sister Josie (Angel Aquino as Pol’s sister) and Tiya Cora.

The performances are nothing to scoff at. Coco Martin is effusively committed, without the excesses of his teleserye persona. You cannot help but sit back and hold on to your arms rest as he navigates in his desperate bid for redemption. Marikit, his child, was his way to moral atonement. True enough, Marikit was his way out so people could forget his incestuous past with cousin Madel. He ironically derives and reclaims his dignity from a ten-year corpse that was once his source of embarrassment. Indeed, “Bakit sa mga makasalanan nagpapakita ang Birhen,” asks Zora.

Palo’s pace and cinematic mounting seem deliberate and almost elegiac; the emotions on exhibit are most palpable in wistful moments of scrutinizing close ups. Nor Domingo (who has a short cameo) delivers a gorgeous cinematic palette and a dazzling camera work that captures the essence of the place. Dean Rosen’s music is as hypnotic as the volcanic dunes of Pampanga. Liza Magtoto and Palo’s writing is inspired although the concluding part could have been rendered less stagey.

Coco Martin is luminous; his eyes soulful as he carries his dead child. In his face, we feel the weight of gravity as he gingerly takes his stride towards every destination (i.e. his home or the church in San Fernando). As I’ve once written, this is vintage indie Coco Martin, and what a joy to behold. Alessandra de Rossi is equally stirring, but then when was she not? We’ve mentioned about Anita Linda’s redundant role (as a demented grandmother who rambles and wanders around) here, similar to her depictions in Olivia Lamasan’s “The Mistress” and Chito Rono’s “Caregiver”. Irma Adlawan is likewise predictably surly and one-dimentional. Leo Martinez, as the Bishop, is a bothersome presence and, is thus miscast as he lividly caricatures the religious order.

I have mentioned though that the flick is hobbled by a dubitable third quarter – the “lakbayan”. We are all creatures of religion; and we should know more than anyone that there’s a process for sainthood. Lorenzo Ruiz took years; the well-loved Pope John Paul II may take decades. It isn’t like we’re just recently introduced into this predicament. Pol has a nun for a sister (competently played by Angel Aquino). She could have saved them the long travel from Barangay Saplala to San Fernando. And it is annoying how such ignorance had to include other hopefuls who never got the cure for their emotional and physical ailments.  

Sometimes, religious constitution dictates the standards of our morality. We have scruples that continually govern our lifestyle. Such dilemma should be remedied by whatever it is that doesn’t harm others. I would like to think that whenever we face gray areas, our decisions are only answerable to God; not the church. So why do we need their blessing?

Alessandra de Rossi is Madel.

Anita Linda is Lola Bining

Melchor becomes Zora, the former visionary. Judiel Nieva, anyone?

Governor Dodo and his aggressive wife: "Don't you want to be recognized as the governor of Pampanga's first saint?"

Irma Adlawan as Tita Cora

Lola Bining gets her lucidity back

Lakbayan for Marikit's sainthood

Church gets an audience.

Kissing cousins Pol and Madel

Pol and Lola Bining

Coco Martin (above and below)

Brillante Mendoza's Captive - Making War and Terrorism a Mundane Enterprise

In the darkest evening of 2001, Abu Sayyaf bandits invade the island resort of Dos Palmas, just off the coast of Puerto Princesa, Palawan. They pilfer the rooms and take the occupants as hostages, many of whom are foreigners. They ferry their victims to Basilan, taking them through the jungle, over hills, using them as pawns against military operations and peddling them for multimillion peso ransoms. From the outset, these hostages are ironically given disclaimers: that their captors practice a high level of morality, and that “man shouldn’t touch woman” unless they’re married of course. But this false sense of security is gradually shattered as the hostages battle bondage, hunger, illness, rough living conditions, and the shenanigans of their captors. Ransoms are gradually set according to occupation (“Missionaries, walang pera ‘yan!), stature (“May ari kayo ng bangko?”),  age (“Dapat iniwan nyo na yan. Pababagalin tayo nyan.”), race (“Chinese ka? Eh di madami kang pera.”), profession (doctors and nurses in a hospital are taken as well, like the characters of Angel Aquino, Allan Paule, and Che Ramos), etc.

VICTIMS

Among these victims, we follow Therese (Isabelle Huppert), a French missionary who has been roaming the country for her missionary work for 5 years; and her septuagenarian colleague Soledad (Rustica Carpio). For almost one year, the victims agonize getting caught in the crossfire against the government’s military forces (“We see their helicopters fly over us. They see us, but they shoot us anyway,” bemoans one victim.) When leader Abu Saiyed (Raymond Bagatsing) fancies a girl (Che Ramos), she gets taken to the hill and offered marriage; a proposition she couldn’t refuse. A lady doctor (Angel Aquino) gets raped by Saiyed’s successor (Sid Lucero). 

To celebrate Philippine Independence Day, a “white man” is beheaded as “gift to the President”.  When Soledad falls ill and dies, Therese gets attached to shy, 12-year old Hamed who was “recruited” after a siege in his village. One morning, a henchman (Ronnie Lazaro) gets a visit from a friend (Joel Torre) who was accompanying a TV journalist (Arlyn dela Cruz) for the requisite “proof of life”. As individual negotiators acquiesce, ransoms are predatorily hiked up. Though some of the victims get released, it becomes clear that the intention was to keep more hostages – and milk the situation for whatever it's worth. Will Therese and her colleagues survive this dilemma?

Therese to French embassy: "This is crazy. But here's my number. So call me maybe."

Director Brillante Mendoza valiantly tackles a sour chapter in the querulous war in Mindanao, south of the Philippine archipelago. He loosely derives his narrative from the memoirs (“In the Presence of My Enemies”) of real life hostage survivor Grace Burnham (whose husband perished in the crisis). Mendoza never turns his back against contentious narratives. Unfortunately, he is gradually building a growing community of naysayers who scoff at his cinematic conceit. While I love most of Mendoza’s body of work – from “Masahista” to “Serbis”, from “Lola” to “Kinatay” (for which he won Cannes’ Best Director plum), Mendoza’s decision to take on this harrowing tale is suspicious. If he’s courting the attention of an international audience, by riding on the notoriety of the situation, then he obviously didn’t succeed because Cannes and Venice seemed to have rejected “Captive” from exhibition. Regardless, Berlin welcomed him with open arms.

A YEAR OF CAPTIVITY

The films is told chronologically: Day 5 in Tuburan, Basilan; Day 6 at the Jose Ma. Torres Hospital in Lamitan; Day 46 in the jungles – the contentious wedding of Joan (Ramos) to Abu Saiyed (Bagatsing); Day 183 in Sumisip, Basilan for the “proof of life”, and so on. It soon becomes clear that this seemingly scriptless, improvisational atmosphere meanders into ennui. In fact, despite the gravity of violent extermination (beheadings) and rape, these scenes feel wanting of grit, tension and urgency, unusually unbecoming of hostage dramas. For a few moments, they almost feel like nothing but extreme sports more than bandit ministrations. A picnic in the wilds, anyone?

IMPROBABLE

There are various moments of head scratching annoyance as well. When Ronnie Lazaro throws a box of Bible in the sea, Huppert fights with all her might. Surely she understood the gravity of the situation and realized that if they could easily behead an innocent man, they wouldn't hesitate to throw a penniless missionary in the sea along with her Bibles. We also find Huppert's “catfighting” with Sid Lucero (who earlier ravaged Angel Aquino) unrealistic. You simply don't provoke the devil, do you? While most victims speak with hushed tones as they step on thin glass, Huppert's Therese is impervious to the power they hold over all of them, her included. Her French government didn’t want to dole out money for ransom. Ditto her family. She was expendable. Didn’t they behead one white man for lesser infraction? 

In another scene, Madeleine Nicolas, who plays one of the hostages, takes the phone from her captors, imploring to the authorities to stop shooting at them. While this isn’t unusual, she did this in English! Sosi, debah? Were the Philippine officers States-bread and English speaking? Or was this “official time”, thus should be spoken in the Queen’s tongue? I am sure she’d be more emphatic with “Huwag nyo po kaming paputukan” than “Darn! Stop firing at us, dingbats!” 

FAITH AND DISHONOR

Moreover, in several scenes, we find the bandits praying to their Great Allah, but I find it ironic to invoke the presence and mercy of God while curtailing the liberties of others. Do they offer severed heads to Allah? How merciful is such God if they live by violence? Isn't "doing harm unto others" a foreign concept in Godliness? Surely, a powerful Maker would disallow rape, murder, terror and mayhem. Unless we’re harping on the omnipresence of a different being more akin to fire and eternal damnation – and this could not be Allah. What I am saying is, God – in his various names – couldn’t be mean, parsimonious and violent. And if His name is invoked during these random acts of violence, then He is, in the process, dishonored, isn’t He? So matakot na kayo sa pinaggagawa nyo, leche kayo! Oops! Got carried away. :)

SARIMANOK

There is a cinematic moment of pure magic in “Captive”. When Therese wakes up beside young Hamed, she found a sarimanor, a legendary and colorful bird of the Maranao (believed to be a handsome young man searching for his lovely maiden). I was transfixed to my seat. Unfortunately, this mystical moment seemed misplaced, I half expected a narrative detour going the route of Aureaus Solito’s “Busong”. If it was an allegorical element, the meaning is lost on me. 

PROPERLY SUBDUED?

War is abrasive, grungy, fatuous, and harrowing. Except for the grime, you miss these characteristics here. A reviewer was said to have labeled the film “properly subdued”, but one wonders how subtlety figures in an experience like getting raped, captured or beheaded. To call subtlety “proper” for a theme akin to “Captive” smacks of pretension. After all, which character in this seemingly tedious tale is thoroughly expounded? We only know them superficially thus it’s hard to invest empathy on anyone; even the ones that got raped. If that’s not troubling, I don’t know what is.

Another review from Lito Zulueta of the Philippine Daily Inquirer points out and I quote, “Mendoza displays mastery of visual language and skillfully calibrates sequences of carnage and atrocity with neither sensationalism nor fakery.” Fact is, you cannot downplay violence nor avoid sensationalism if the act itself is staggering, lurid and excessive. Doing so is like drinking a cup of previously steaming coffee that’s gone cold and, well, flat. You lose the visceral component of the experience. Such is the case in “Captive” where the aforementioned atrocity becomes mere child’s play. And terrorism is never just a child's play. 

Isabelle Huppert is more masterful in this respect than her director. Her face is a canvas of crystal emotions. You look at her luminous face and realize her emotive adeptness. It’s a pity then that she shares segmented, albeit limited screen time with other actors. She deserves a back story more than just a glimpse of her life back home: that she has a daughter and two sons. Other than that, we don’t have anything else to anchor our sympathy on.  

There are several cameos from well known indie players: Coco Martin appears as a “tenyente” passing by a village (a school); there’s Kristoffer King, Neil Ryan Sese, Bernard Palanca, Baron Geisler, Mon Confiado, Tado, Maria Isabel Lopez, Mercedes Cabral, Evelyn Vargas, Anita Linda, et.al.

With a gaunt narrative flesh and tepid storytelling, your sensibility expects the ultimate denouement characteristic of other Brillante Mendoza flicks. It wasn’t there. 

She would rather ask for help in English! "Don't shoot us! Hold the fire, for Pete's sake!"

In these scenes, they hail Allah after every violent act. Something is incongruent, right?

Sarimanok. This photo only courtesy of E. San Juan Jr.'s "Ipaubaya sa Ulikba" -  http://philcsc.wordpress.com/2012/03/30/ipaubaya-sa-ulikba-tula-ni-e-san-juan-jr/

Coco Martin does a short but eye-catching cameo.

Isabelle Huppert, the pouty French superstar.

Born to Love You - Romantic Accidents, Cinematic Mishaps

Disaster strikes every time photographer Rex (Coco Martin) finds tour guide Joey (Angeline Quinto) in a room. In fact, Joey spells calamity in capital letters. She bungles important moments in wedding receptions, vomits on Rex’s lap, falls underwater from a moving boat, and even impulsively slaps the irascible photographer. Rex wants nothing to do with Joey, until a lucrative corporate account throws them together.

Rex needs the dough. Besides, this will keep his fledgling studio afloat. Moreover, he has urgent bills to pay, and this account is crucial to the survival of his studio. Meanwhile, Joey is counting on this project for more clamorous reasons: his indigent – but happy – family is short on cash. Electricity’s been disconnected at home. If things turn out fine, this project could send her to Korea where she plans on finding her biological father.  

After rescuing Joey from near drowning, their relationship evolves into something more amorous. The cat-and-mouse bickering soon turns into a more intimate relationship. Joey takes him home to meet her parents (she has a doting mother Dulce and a loving stepfather Tatay Yoyoy – played by Malu de Guzman and Al Tantay). While Joey opens her world to him, Rex is dismissive where his family is concerned. The burden of his past heavily straddles on his shoulders. When he was a child, his mother (Eula Valdez) packed her bags for a job overseas and never came back. What’s worse, she remarried, leaving Rex’s father (Tonton Gutierrez) a broken man. Fast forward to the present. Rex’s father is dead, and his mother’s new family moves back to Manila.

While Sylvia (Rex’s mother, Eula Valdez) tries hard to bridge the emotional chasm, Rex continues to withdraw himself away from his even-tempered stepfather (Albert Martinez) who’s an influential businessman. When Rex finds himself in a bind (he couldn’t pay his bills and his bank cheques bounce), he adamantly refuses their help. Things come to a head when he learns that he was, in fact, saved by the extended family he abhors. He makes a rabid escape oblivious of Joey’s pleas. Then a vehicular accident once more changes the course of events.

Director Jerome Chavez Pobocan's story moves with disjointed and uneven temperaments (yes, there are several here), fielding irrational characters with obvious affinity to mishaps. Moreover, the telenovela trappings of the back stories feel too contrived and manipulative, you might as well ride the roller coaster while they are piling up the narrative implausibilities.Why such discombobulating troughs and ebbs? The script is essentially a hodgepodge of formulaic strains admixed with a thousand and one dramatic contrivances. Let's throw in several ideas, they think. Some thing's bound to work, debah?. Well, it didn't!

Angeline Quinto fields an asperous performance. She traipses around in awkward, indeterminate moments, vacillating between the dramatic and the comic, but neither translates into anything vaguely sincere.      

Some scenes are even worse, like when she just stares blankly where there should be emotions. Let's take a line for example: "Nararamdaman mo ba ang sinasabi ng puso ko?" (Say what?) "Wag mong tingnan ang wala sa yo. Tingnan mo kung anong meron ka!" Heavy stuff, right? But Quinto ends up with nothing but an emphatic delivery devoid of emotions. You might as well get a kalabasa and make it talk!

Coco Martin does better, although he is likewise hobbled by a burdensome script and his impasse with the English language: "May is-tep pa-der ka na!" "Pers taym mo, Predie?" Even some of his angry lines end up too cumbersome to empathize with. It's easy to lose sympathy because you have an inkling that Rex's pathological grief could be mental illness more than heartbreak. Ang OA eh! He desperately needed help and when he gets it, he turns away, and even huffs like an ingrate!

The problem here is, there are too many scriptwriters tweaking the story, thus focus is lost on divergent concepts stirring the film into everywhere but a logical unraveling of events. There are 2 (or 3) main writers and 6 script consultants, yet they come up with this pedestrian story?! It's almost unfathomable that eight heads worked on this rubbish. Such artistic destitution is getting more indisputable by the second!

Is this romcom? Light romance? Musical? Heavy drama? Existential movie? Try checking all. When Rex is seen standing on a cliff, gazing at a golden sky, you somehow get goosebumps because you knew this was the protracted version of a coffee commercial: Para kanino ka ba gumigising sa umaga? You crash your car on boulders and all you could ask is this fallacious question?

Apparently, the dingbats at the Cinema Evaluations Board (CEB) were tickled pink by such delusions because they rated this a B! What is an impressionable and simplistic group of twats doing in a board that's supposed to pick out gems from theatrical weeds? But maybe this film needs its 50% rebate. After all, when I watched it on a weekend, at a very prime time 7 PM, there were only seven souls populating the huge Galleria cinema! If you were to believe the television hype, you would think there was a pandemonium crowd queuing for this cinematic detritus. Well, there's seven souls and myself. There is justice after all.

Coco Martin plays Rex Manrique

Angeline Quinto plays Joey: Can't even deliver a believable yawn!