Paul Singh Cudail's Scorpion Lovers - Deception in Elementary Exposition

Romy (Karl Matthew Garcia), a call center agent, lives with lover Angelo (Dice Vergara), a student whom he financially supports. In a two-story apartment, they play out their seemingly harmonious lives. But Romy is on the verge of resigning from his job, looking forward to a well deserved summer holiday in Dumaguete with Angelo. What he doesn’t know is that Angelo failed his classes (he keeps putting off showing his class cards). What’s worse, their congenial relationship is a one-way affair; and Angelo’s itching to get rid of his doting benefactor. Meanwhile, a new boarder moves into a room downstairs. Vince (Glenn de Luna), the new guy, is imprudent, something that Angelo despises. the new housemate is a former macho dancer now being kept by a lascivious housewife (Jessica Ruiz) whose husband works overseas as a seaman.     

While Romy is away, Vince catches the disagreeable Angelo pleasuring himself while holding Vince’s missing underwear. This gives Vince the opportunity to seduce Angelo who, with nary a second thought, gives in – and even offers compensation for the former gay bar habitué. “Magkano ba’ng bayad nila sa yo? Siguro naman, kaya din kitang bayaran.” he asks.

Before long, Vince and Angelo become regular bedmates. One day, Romy comes home unexpectedly earlier than usual and he finds his housemates tintinnabulating their bells. What’s a guy to do? Should he accept the gun that his friend Joaquin (Ian Ileto) is offering? Guess.


Director Paul Singh Cudail’s “Scorpion Lovers” is 2013’s first local film released in commercial outlets. And I shiver at the thought of what this hints. Are we going to be inundated with more neuron-challenged male-oriented eroticas? The story, if you haven’t noticed, has been told several times in the past. While deception has many faces, “Scorpion Lovers” is particularly derivative and not well conceptualized. Like most of Cudail’s works, the story is laced with a hundred-and-one loopholes. Romy pays for his lover’s education yet he’s resigning from his job? How is he going to pay for Angelo’s tuition? Sure, they were planning for a summer holiday. But most working men take a leave of absence when taking a vacation; they don’t quit work.

Angelo never showed his new housemate Vince an iota of hospitality – or even attraction for that matter. He despised the guy, yet when he found Vince’s soiled underwear, he scampers to his room so he could “play” with it. This hardly makes sense. Even a sexual deviation like paraphilia has to follow certain rational strains.   

At the film’s second half, the narrative aimlessly rambles; the story gets desperate for a plot device to further move the story that seems to have stagnated. So Cudail presents us with his “deux ex machina” of sorts to address his storytelling dilemma. Enter Ian Ileto, the film’s editor and cinematographer, who cameos as Joaquin, Romy’s friend. His mere presence provides a foreboding that you could smell a mile away. Quite predictably, Cudail, who by then has painted himself into a corner, has found his narrative salvation. Is this brilliance? You could only wish. Similar minded Pink Flick directors like Edz Espiritu, Jigz Recto and Darry dela Cruz always end their stories tragically to provide an undeserved drama. Why not kill off a character? Better yet, why not kill everyone? Let's conclude the whole she-bang with a blood bath for inspiration, debah?

Cudail has been taking down notes from Blush because, for the first time in his mediocre directorial career, he didn’t offer a single shower/bathing scene, thinking perhaps that the absence of which could improve his storytelling acumen. It is wishful thinking, of course. But it is nevertheless refreshing not being able to watch anyone soap away their grime. Make no mistake, it’s still exploitative. A lot of wrinkly derriere (check out the opening scene) is still being flashed around. 

Glenn de Luna gets it on with boyish Dice Vergara.

Dice Vergara is as doltish as Karl Matthew Garcia who, with his tall and lanky frame, tries hard, if a bit too awkwardly. Garcia, who we last saw wave his “light saber” in Crisaldo Pablo’s inane, “Bagito”, must be raring to move away from Pablo’s shadow. Glenn de Luna’s performance is likewise hobbled by caricature. If there’s anyone who registers better than the main characters, it’s the hunky Ian Ileto who earlier topbilled a “Blue Lagoon” yarn for Deo Fajardo’s “East of Paradise”. Unfortunately, Ileto appears in only 3 sequences or so.

Why “Scorpion Lovers”? The title is an afterthought, to be honest. It turns out that both Angelo and Vince were born under one astrological sign - Scorpio. Naw, they didn't turn into predatory eight-legged arthropods with claws and venomous stingers. Cudail would have you believe otherwise, but mark my words. Nothing is vaguely profound in this film. It’s superficial, it’s crass and it’s cheap.

Ian Ileto pawns his gun to Karl Matthew Garcia. Not that gun!

BJ Morales' Dama - Feeling the Void

When Rolan (Jordan Samonte) learns that he has glaucoma and will eventually go blind, he decides to leave the big city where his cousin Allen (Paolo Bernardo) resides. He also leaves his buddy Angelo (Itcheru Lopez). In a fishing village in Batangas, Mang Nico, an elder, albeit sickly relative, tends to Rolan’s needs while he gradually loses his vision. But village life isn't all that bad. He acquires a new friend Ian (Iyann Marfori) and an enthusiastic admirer Vanessa (Jessica Ruiz), the town hussy, who doesn't hide her attraction to the "mabango" gentleman. What he doesn't know, Angelo, who’s Canada-bound, is distraught about his sudden departure.

One day, Rolan gets a surprise visitor, but what’s more surprising is how they rediscover their feelings for each other. They share one unforgettable night. Angelo, after all, is set to fly to Canada to join his mother. Unfortunately, Rolan’s elder guardian suffers a heart attack and dies, leaving poor Rolan alone. Though he gets an occasional visit from Allen, the latter still lives in Manila so Rolan has to fend for himself. Meanwhile, neighbor Ian falls under Vanessa’s diligent and amorous spell. What becomes of Rolan? Will Angelo disappear from his life forever? 

Director BJ Morales' "Dama" (Feel) follows a recent Pink flick tackling blindness, GA Villafuerte's "Kapa", a cinematic effort with backsliding artistry. "Dama" feels a wee bit improved, though not by much. Saying this, there's really not much to expect here. The film is flunky in presentation and thematically shallow. Narrative exposition is cursory, even desultory. As a result, our attention wears off when the compounding complications surface: he's blind, his parents passed away, his guardian croaked, his lover left for Canada - and he lives alone. Yet we end up not caring. Empathy is earned in insightful scenes that deliver human emotion, something that feels staged than felt in Morales' cinematic meandering.

The problem here: not a single character is real. They're mere character sketches wandering around like fictive cyborgs. Let's take the case of Ian, Roland's new friend. Why don't we see him assist the blind guy? Are we really a community of feckless beings more concerned with getting laid than offering a hand for a debilitated and helpless friend? Angelo's abrupt return from Canada (his mother dies so he finds no reason to stay there) feels like a foolhardy decision. Why not make a good life in that foreign land? His success could empower him to financially assist Rolan - and himself.

Now let's turn to the disease of the month - Glaucoma, a condition where there's persistently increased eye pressure within the eye affecting the optic nerve and, eventually, vision. While it is true that Glaucoma could lead to blindness, there are several measures that could prevent progression of the declining vision: Glaucoma eye drops, filtering procedures (those they call "laser" - an ambulatory procedure), and surgery. All these interventions seem to have been overlooked, giving the impression that Glaucoma is a hopeless case akin to death. It isn't. It's like saying that once you're diagnosed with HIV, you might as well proceed to the cemetery, dig your own grave and - while you're at it - bury yourself there!

The performances leave much to be desired. Jordan Samonte is a curious choice for the protagonist. He isn't exactly what you'd "define" as "easy on the eyes". He isn't gifted where muscular development or postural gait is concerned. He eternally mopes, consistently manifesting a one-note performance. He also displays a bland affect that's seen in comatose patients - or worse, those with catatonic schizophrenia. For Pete's sake, give me Jeff Luna anytime. :) Luna maybe robotic, but at least he's an eye candy.

Placing myself in Rolan's situation, I'd be a bevy of emotions if I were going blind: I'd grieve, I'd be angry, I'd be defiant. I'd create a bucket list for the visually impaired. But Samonte is mostly a resigned soul which is just a single stage in "grieving". His emotive inclination reminds me of Annabelle Rama's acumen as a probable public servant. Yes, I am wondering what quality was seen that merited Samonte's coveting the lead role. Six inches of artistic intuition, perhaps? Or five, as the case maybe. But is it really moot and academic to seek answers from amateurish work? The by-product displays the nullity of the film maker's intentions.

In a scene where Samonte and Lopez frolic in the beach, we find the two lovers share lip service. While lying on the sand, Lopez gradually kisses Samonte. And the latter could hardly open his mouth. As though he smelled something pungent? It's a nondescript scene because it didn't validate any situation in the story. It however enforced the fact that Samonte, like his director, is clueless about his character's motivation. What's he - and his director - doing there then?

Ken (above) unwittingly discovers Angelo and Rolan sharing a bond beyond friendship. 

Vanessa flirts with Angelo (left). Angelo and Rolan play the "habulan" game  at the beach. (right)

Iyann Marfori, who plays Ian, performs the de riguer bathing scene while a mushroom head occasionally peeps from his  incredibly transparent shorts.

Jessica Ruiz and Iyann Marfori enjoy the floating cottage. (above and below)

Jordan Samonte plays Roland (left)and Itcheru Lopez plays Angelo (right).

Paolo Bernardo strikes a pose.

Iyann Marfori and his traffic-stopping briefs.

Paul Singh Cudail's Ang Jowa - Vicious Cycle

Don and Orlando (Zander Olivarez and Miguel Alcantara respectively) share a lot of things: a home and a job at the bank. They also share a bed. One thing they don’t share is Annie (Jessica Ruiz), Don’s girl friend of several years. But Orlando doesn’t know about her. What’s worse, Don intends to leave Orlando to start a family with Annie. When he finally does, Don is inconsolable. However, life with Annie is tough. After all, Don resigned from his job – and Annie is eternally unemployed. With bills piling up and rent’s long overdue, Don turns to Orlando who’s only too willing to lend a hand in exchange for sexual favors. While Orlando has pretty much acquiesced to a shared relationship, Annie is kept in the dark. The latter, in fact, is getting suspicious about her husband’s hushed calls and clipped replies. Where does Don get their rent money? Where does her “husband” spend his overnight soirees? 

As it comes to pass, Orlando starts demanding more attention from Don who jumps from one concupiscent bed to the next. What’s a guy to do? In fact, does he have enough stamina for his two lovers? And if this dilemma wasn’t enough, Don further harbors intermittent sexual thrills with Betty (Adriana Gomez), Orlando’s childhood friend – who frequently visits him.  Plot thickens when Betty inadvertently gets pregnant. But all hell breaks loose when Annie discovers Don’s relationship with Orlando. On the other side of this sexual chain is Betty who doesn’t know that Orlando has hatched plans to adopt the child once she gives birth. Meanwhile, “wife” Annie has decided to walk out of Don. Will Orlando get the child that shall “seal” his coupling with Don? What happens to Betty?  

Orlando (Miguel Alcantara, right) espouses about contractual relationships to lover Don (Zander Olivarez, left).

More than ever, director Paul Singh Cudail shows that his ineptitude towards a narrative craft knows no boundaries. And he valiantly succeeds outdoing this exquisite “talent”. To process a scene, for example, he keeps harping at a redundant situation that repeats like a broken record – those darn miscalls and hushed phone conversations that are too loud to ignore. Thus, this becomes an oft-repeated source of altercation among the characters: Orlando decries these calls, so does Annie. They occur in every location of their limited scenography: living room, stairs, bedroom, which kinda reminds me of Zig Dulay’s “Huling Halik” where constant phone calls become a nauseating source of tension between protagonists. At some point, these get hilarious and you end up, slapping your thigh with an ebullient “Na naman…? (Again)” Though it should underline the artistic limitations of Cudail who writes his scripts, it’s just one piece of this baffling, albeit shoddy puzzle.

Logic is impugned in several persuasions. When a couple starts planning their lives together, they usually consider the economics that go it. In Cudail’s “Ang Jowa”, they bury their heads in the sand. Don resigns from his job at the bank to join Annie who couldn’t find work. As if that wasn’t enough, Don also leaves his benefactor – the one who supplies all the dough. Hasn’t it crossed his dimwitty cerebrum that money is needed to pay the rent; feed another person; buy soap and toothpaste? When Annie finds out about her husband’s homosexual affair, Orlando tries to convince Annie with an asinine, “Dapat nga matuwa ka kasi ako ang kahati mo, hindi babae.” In my rule book, anyone who shares the affection and engages in sexual calisthenics with my boyfriend/husband is a competitor, thus needs to be annihilated! Relationships and emotional proprietorship have boundaries of their own. In fact, biting on another person’s apple is forbidden.

SPOILERS

As one of the purveyors of the “Moron Cinema” (cheap productions shot in a few days; poorly conceived narratives; domestic settings usually set within the confines of a house), Cudail makes a fallacy out of the aphorism that goes “experience is the best teacher”. How many films has Cudail completed within the last two years or so? Yet you hear lines dictated to his actors. At a dinner table, you hear someone order his cast, “O kumain na kayo!” When there’s food in front of you, you don’t need twats dictating such mundane instructions, do you? You munch, you chew, you masticate – then you throw your make-believe lines. In another protracted scene, you find Annie waiting for Don, and this gets intercut with Don and Orlando sharing fervid copulation. But this isn’t even the issue, what drives you mad is how these scenes are repeated half a dozen times to stretch its running time. I could have pinched the singit of its editor for failing to do his job well, as he allows Annie to wait for Godot.

Don (Zander Olivarez) and Annie (Jessica Ruiz) post-coitus: That darn cell phone!

When Don and Orlando hear about pregnant Betty’s death (she slipped and bled to death), the camera pans at the couple and we find “no discernable emotional reaction” emanating from Don, Betty’s lover and the father of the child. For Don, it was just quotidian dispatch. No need for grief, astonishment or dismay. How’s that for emotional investment? This takes me to its lead – Zander Olivarez. He is stocky, and on cursory glance, looks muscle-bound. Aside from the obvious extra pound of muscle, Zander doesn’t have much emotive skill. In fact, he coasts with a single expression. His moment of inspiration comes when he is made to scuffle in bed with his partners, and he isn’t shy judiciously showing off his backside. He slouches when he should be sitting comfortably, occasionally flexing his arms to bulk up his biceps, triceps, brachialis and even his deltoids. If fact, his muscles could run a gamut of emotional discourse more than Zander himself.

Miguel Alcantara, a protégé of the current queen of mediocre cinema G.A. Villafuerte, tries his luck with real drama. Unfortunately, he doesn’t succeed either. You could see that he tries hard, but for now, this doesn’t suffice. And I couldn’t even bequeath an “A for effort”. Though his conveyance is palpable, he looks like he’s in pain. Not emotionally; more like from toothache or that pulsating pustule inside the nose. “Anong akala mo sa relationship natin, contractual?” He would vividly dispatch with flaring nostrils. The good news? Alcantara registers well on screen, and when he’s earnest enough with his craft, there should be a huge window for improvement.

The ladies are mostly forgettable. They either display bland affect or an irritating display of waylaid theatrics, like when Jessica Ruiz (who sometimes shares an uncanny resemblance with Vice Ganda) cries and all of her facial contortions don’t amount to much. In a scene involving Sally Grefaldo, a character named Tita Lily (the bearer of the bad news regarding Betty’s demise), you find this wrinkly lady cry her hearts out. The camera closely pans to her contorted face. She huffs and haws; she makes singhot, and makes garalgal her voice – yet in her abstruse heartache and convoluted affliction, she isn’t able to shed a single tear! It always bothers me to see someone cry – without tears! Maybe Tita Lily has lachrymal obstruction? Let’s rush her to the eye surgeon for a dacryocystorhinostomy - fast!

The sex scenes are few and far between, and if it's what you're after, you would then have to bury yourself in a bed of frustration. The men mostly show their backsides while the ladies pop out their nipples - perfect for a night of red wine and a generous dash of patience.

Despite these rebarbative situations, you hardly feel the compulsion to care. You’re made acutely aware that the emotional width and breadth of Cudail’s little story spans the four corners of his little rooms, and thus are ill-equipped to expand to the realm of insight. I would suggest a more productive career. Maybe he has green thumbs; farming or gardening could be a better option? Or maybe he can grow camote better than he can assemble a cinematic narrative? Surely, there must be something he could do better than direct films.

Don and Annie: There was never a mention of a wedding, yet they refer to each other as husband and wife.

Don (Zander Olivarez) canoodles with Betty (Adriana Gomez) 

Zander Olivarez postures with a slouch.

Olivarez: Whos' the muscle man? :)

Miguel Alcantara as loan officer Orlando

Adriana Gomez as Betty, Orlando's childhood friend. Gomez looks lost in "Ang Jowa".