Kit Oebanda's "Tumbang Preso" - Obstacles in Yarn Spinning

Carlo (Kokoy de Santos) dreams of pursuing college education; to become an architect and move his impoverished family away from provincial squalor. When a teacher offers an opportunity (he'll work and get paid P200 a day and, more importantly, he gets a scholarship), Carlo joins his younger cousin Jea (Teri Malvar) to try their luck in the big city.

They instead find themselves working long hours for a sardines canning factory. Once work is done, they, along with other young folks, are kept inside a dark stockroom where they sleep on the floor. What's worse, they are padlocked inside until 5AM when they have to resume work.

They get paid P50 a day (after "placement fee" has been deducted). Conditions in the factory are harsh, what with stern overseer Jose (Ronnie Lazaro) breathing down their necks. They occasionally get reprieve from the owner Miss Liz (Star Orjaliza), a deceptively kind "boss", and her happy-go-lucky nephew Vito (Kean Cipriano).

But Carlo has dreams to realize so he starts planning for an escape. On one such occasion, he falls down a wall and sprains his leg. Unable to work properly, Miss Liz takes him to see a doctor (Jaclyn Jose) who, not long after her examination, realizes the dilemma Carlo is in. The kind doctor hands him a piece of paper with numbers written on it. Carlo then plots another escape, this time for cousin Jea who can call for help. You actually wonder why the good Samaritan in Jaclyn Jose couldn't make the call herself. She wanted to help, didn't she? Isn't it standard procedure that doctors (and caregivers) who suspect abuse on their patients should alert the authorities (Social Welfare, police)? They should do the calling, not the perceived victims - because if they could, they would have done already.

Cocoy De Santos adequately coaxes necessary empathy from his character, making it easy to root for him. He registers well on screen thus this film should rightfully help open doors for the young actor. Teri Malvar, the child who beat Nora Aunor in the Best Actress category of Cinefilipino for her role in "Ang Huling Cha-Cha ni Anita", provided good support, though her character was sorely underwritten. Kean Cipriano, meanwhile, turns in a comfortable performance.

The rest of the cast dove into their characters perfunctorily - Ronnie Lazaro, Jaclyn Jose, Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino, and Star Orjaliza who romps away with the film's most meretricious role. However, the greater injustice was in not giving Dominic Roco enough to "play" with. What a waste. If you edit out his character, he won't be missed.

Kip Oebanda's "Tumbang Preso" ("In the Can") is well intentioned, but it is hobbled by so many shortcomings, both narrative and technical, you eventually end up with a lot less sympathy. Carlo (Kokoy de Santos), our teen protagonist, is an intelligent young man who, just barely two months after he started working for the factory, has forgotten his mother's "face", "how tall she is", "how bad her pedicure was". Two friggin' months in a bright teenager's mind and he's on the verge of expunging all traces of his mother's memory? Maybe he's afflicted with Nora Aunor's "Dementia"? Scary, if you ask me. Give him his share of extreme close ups then. :) If that isn't an illusory bid for sympathy, I don't know what is.

What about Kerbie Zamora's character Don who has been working at the factory for 5 years - he must have forgotten everything, including what he wore when he went to the doctor for circumcision. Tsk tsk tsk! Moreover, what kind of mother would indulge in bad pedicures while his underage son is desperate for tuition? (sniff sniff)

INCISION VS LACERATION

When Carlo was taken out for medical consultation, the physician (Jaclyn Jose) took one look at Carlo's hands. She declared, "Incision... due to sharp objects". Huh? Any physician would know that an "incision" is a cut on the flesh using a blade/knife, usually from a surgical procedure. Butchers, for example, don't make incisions; they cut and slice. Wounds with clean cuts, on the other hand, are called "lacerations". Where did this physician get her education? University of Recto? Anyway, the doctor (Ms. Jose) then takes Carlo to an Xray room. Then she performs the procedure all by herself! I was amazed of course. General Practitioners and clinicians NEVER do X-rays on their own. Heck, even radiologists will not perform the actual procedure themselves. X-ray technicians do! So Jacklyn was essentially the epitome of medical wizardry.

But we're not done with Jacklyn Jose. The first time she saw the child's hands (full of cuts from manually packing sardines in razor-sharp cans), her first impression was classic, "Galis!" (scabies) I almost fell off my chair. So funny.

Some of the lines in the script were flimflammed from random imagination. When Dominic Roco finds Kokoy awake and waiting by the shackled door, he asks him, "Ano bang ginagawa mo dyan at gising ka pa?" Kokoy replies, "Hinahanap ko ang aking mga lata." Roco then shrugs and goes back to sleep, saying "Buti naman." Huh? What's good in finding tin cans? Such writing is feckless and non-contributory to a tighter story. The scenography and the blocking of scenes don't mostly slide as naturally as they should, thus a number of them feel concocted.  

Some scenes are way too stagey or awkward, i.e. Kokoy's "dream sequence" - or was it a "flashback", you're never quite sure. And why was there confetti thrown at Kokoy? Were they celebrating the Edsa Revolution? I never had confetti for my scholastic medals in the past. Poor me!

PERPLEXED

At the police station, Kean Cipriano's character rats out on his aunt (Miss Liz, the factory's operator), and does a long-ish monologue. Ronnie Lazaro follows suit. All this time, the lady police officer just looked perplexed, as though a snake bit her at the vulva. Didn't she realize it was her job to ask more questions - or document their confessions? This floundering scene stretched on while the police officers just gazed at Cipriano and Lazaro - in sheer bewilderment. Starstruck probably? No further investigative work needed since the culprits were voluntarily spilling the beans without getting asked. How convenient. The aforementioned scene was essentially an anticlimax after the build-up towards a suspenseful third part.

The movie could have been an effective cautionary tale about ambition and trusting strangers, but it ended up into one predictable yarn spinning. Requisite happy endings tend to teach less, not that I am advocating the nihilistic approach of Gino Santos' "#Y" which was, thematically, one of the most irritating films I've seen this year. But to imply that one can just as easily switch back to a simpler life (the last scene) after a harrowing experience feels like a sham. Artificial.

"Tumbang Preso" is a product of 2013's Manila Film Financing Forum where it won "Best IFC Pitch". Real Florido's "1st Ko si 3rd" was among the 17 finalists. The movie's subject matter brims with contemporary pertinence. After all, a voice that speaks against child labor and human trafficking deserves to be heard and circulated. Unfortunately, a noble cause doesn't a great cinema make. No amount of A-grade labeling, courtesy of those clueless dingbats from the Cinema Evaluation Board (CEB), can sugarcoat the film's middling artistry.

Nuel Naval's A Secret Affair - The Land of the Despicable

Despicable creatures. That was running through my mind as I watched Nuel Nunez’s “A Secret Affair”. In fact there was not a single character in this theatrical ouvre that I’d wanna be associated with in my life if they were live specimen. I’d rather march to the Zambian capital of Lukasa and live a life of seclusion until I’m fat and ugly and my Louboutins don’t fit me anymore – than have family and friends like the caricatures of “A Secret Affair’.

There’s Rafi (Anne Curtis) who accepts a marriage proposal barely two months after she met Anton (Derek Ramsay). Like rabbits in heat, they decide to wed faster than Lilia Cuntapay could spell “baccalaureate” or “bourgeoisie”. Yes, faster than Cristine Reyes’ ability to sustain familial loyalty to siblings who fed her until she’s big enough to earn her own keep. Unfortunately for the bemuscled Anton, Rafi gets cold feet on the day she traipses down the aisle. She’d rather fly to New York for an indefinite holiday – and by indefinite, it meant a couple of weeks of vacuous soul searching. Does she really want to spend her nights counting the abdominals in Anton’s torso for the rest of her life? Would she survive Anton’s pelvic grunts and forceful deltoid and tricepsual embraces? Could she stomach Anton’s passionate gaze for the remainder of her sad, sad life? The answers seem clear.

Rafi comes home to woo her erstwhile beau who’s so heartbroken, the only way to mend his grief was to shag the living daylights out of Sam (Andi Eigenmann), one of Rafi’s sorority sisters, who’s desperate for a horned-out father figure with 8-pack abs to boot. This wouldn’t be their sole concupiscent rendezvous. As anonymous strangers, they’ve actually done the dastardly deed even before Anton met Rafi. This time around, Sam decides to stake her claim to the Eurasian bratwurst. After all, she had him first. Besides, this bratwurst drips with juicy smoulder she couldn’t get enough of. Albie Casino should probably hide under the table beside Anton’s considerable inches, right? Oohlala.

At this point, the story moves into Boy Pick-Up territory; alas, with the kitchiest, sassiest, campiest one-liners this side of Gaylandia. Everyone tries to outdo the next queen. How kitschy? Well, for starters, there’s Tim Yap whose presence distracts like a fish bone stuck between your dentures. Tim Yap, you see, can’t act to save his life. What’s funnier, he’s awkwardly depicting himself. I’m actually tickled pink to see someone who’s so bewildered and clueless how to portray himself. Such hilarity.

The cinematic plate is replete with Imeldific beauty: flowing or serpentine gowns, designer handbags, sexy stiletto heels, immaculately coiffed hair; you cannot deny the stark beauty lavishly paraded before you. You somehow wonder if this was originally envisioned like a shopping catalogue with the narrative taking the back seat. Unfortunately, without valid characters, such elements make a dubious film.

“A Secret Affair” brims with caricatures, none of them deserving our empathy. Rafi, for example, the main protagonist, sashays around with chock-full of verve and confidence yet she's such an air-head she can’t make up her mind about commitments. She’s the kid who’s taken to the candy shop. After almost an hour of roaming the shop, she queues at the counter and ends up changing her mind – again! She has the emotional appropriation of a 2 year old. It doesn't help that Anne Curtis, one of the most ridiculous Best Actress winners from an equally ridiculous awards-giving Famas, is turning out emotionally barren. The scene where she spews: “I’m okay; I’m okay. I’m not okay” is more than telling. She could have made the emotive leap, but ends up with a parched, albeit perfunctory smattering. Curtis is in dire need of gravitas, and it doesn't help that she trades her verbal tussles against the immensely intuitive Andi Eigenmann.

And isn't it ironic that it’s the cinematic oppugnant who gets our sympathy? Eigenmann personifies her dilemma with clarity and unusual depth. Her scene with Jackie Lou Blanco (playing mother Cate) is particularly compelling: “Mom, what's wrong with us? Why do men always leave us? Mahirap ba tayong mahalin?” And she asks why the women in their family always end up losers. Her restraint is reminiscent of the much younger Jaclyn Jose who, these days, succumb to Machiavellian thespic ploys. All of Jose’s artistic bravura has been bequeathed to her brilliant daughter, leaving her with nothing but glowering and contriving character delineations. “Alam mo saan masarap magkape? Sa burol mo!” “Shut up. Bitch ka lang. Super bitch ako”. Lines like these are likely to arise from parloristas actively engaged in a catfight, not the upper middle class denizens who populate this film.

Finally, there’s Derek Ramsay playing Anton whose emotional sagacity flies out the door whenever a prepubescent Lolita offers her coochie snorcher. Ramsay works hard. In fact, he still smolders – while the testosterone charm drips over. He punctuates his delivery with decibel adjustments. When he pleads for understanding, his delivery turns almost inaudible, the words get lost in his discerning dispatch. But all these feel hollow. Conveying emotion does not rest on the volume of your delivery. You have to become the character. Derek's 8-pack is more coercive than any of the lines he delivered. You could probably squeeze emotions out of a rock than from Derek whose vacuity lords over his artistic savvy – or lack thereof. Isn't it too bad that Angelica Panganiban wasn't able to imbue her hefty artistic wisdom before they parted ways? They could have polished the “Being” exercises in the privacy of their bedrooms. Tsk tsk! Those missed opportunities! You don’t wonder why TV5 opted to hide Ramsay’s face under a mask in his new series, “Kidlat”!     

And those lines: “Betrayal and infidelity in secret is still betrayal and infidelity." Huh? Ano daw?

Sam listens to Anton and Rafi.

Sam barges inside a spa to "service" Anton.

A call surprises Rafi.

Like licking chocolate-coated lollipop...

Ellen and daughter Rafi

Anton smolders in his seat.

Andi Eigenmann captures her emotional predicament even without saying much.

Jackie Lou Blanco, as Cate, was never this bad!

Catfight starts.

The super bitch makes her move. This same tack (of pouring a bottle of liquid) is repeated when  Rafi faces Sam. this time, with a calamine lotion. Very original, debah?

Derek Ramsay smolders like... an igneous rock?