Cleo Paglinawan's Mga Lalake Sa Balsa - Of Underwear Holes & Rafters Who Never Sail

In a remote riverside town, able-bodied rafters (“magbabalsa”) peddle their flesh to tourists to augment their meager income. Times are hard, and customers are a dwindling breed. This is real life for Arnold (Jeremy Ian). After all, his mother was a hooker. While he desperately mopes around, roommate Tirso (Rocco Mateo) patiently listens to his constant gripes. Arnold is also unaware that Tirso harbors recondite affection for him.

If Tirso could have his way, he would sell his hut (“kubo”) so Arnold and he could start anew in the big city. Meanwhile, Lea (Barbara Chavez) – a married girl whose husband up and went because of his her penchant for canoodling with the town’s male population – has become Arnold’s constant benefactor and girl friend. During Tirso and Lea’s conscupiscent rendezvous, Tirso is left to his own devise wanking over his friend’s soiled briefs.

Meanwhile, aggressive and enterprising Jessie (Jerome Pineda) doesn’t think twice about turning tricks – even for a measly P100 with his limp wristed neighbor (Ike Sadiasa). Brimming with machismo, he offers his wares to any willing customer. But one person is particularly immune to his charms – the eternally lecherous Lea who is so infatuated with his hustling lover Arnold. “Ba’t di mo patulan si Jessie?” Arnold tells Lea but she wouldn’t hear of it.  

One day, tragedy strikes when JC (Mico Madrid – aka Mickho Madrid) forces himself on Jessie’s errr… uncharted territory. Despite Jessie’s colorful sexual past, taking it from his backside was beyond his limit. He suddenly feels violated, debased… “binaboy”, he laments. This event unravels into a tragic turn that has grave repercussions in the lives of his friends.

Jeremy Ian is Arnold

Director Cleo Paglinawan (“S.R.O.”, “Itlog na Pula”) returns with Kenneth Montero’s trite and confused story. In fact, “Mga Lalake sa Balsa” is a second banana to Monti Parungao’s decidedly middling “Sagwan”. To be fair, “Sagwan” feels like a masterpiece beside this atrocity. Paglinawan seems to be experimenting on how to pull down the iota of artistic standard she possesses. And she has succeeded in doing just that. She has done assistant directorial duties (under another mediocre director, Joven Tan) in countless B-movies that it’s baffling why she never learned the medium (“Bahay ni Lola 2”, ”Paupahan”, “Vhagetz”, “Project X”, “Eskandalo”, ”Binyag”, “Booking”, “Tutok”, “Dalaw”, “Bigasan”, “Dampi”, “Indie Boys”, etc.) Clearly, the blind can’t lead another into the light. Bad teachers can never mold better students.  

VEGETABLE CONNECTION

To some people, experience is obviously not the best teacher. How else do you explain the conundrum that’s Cleofe Paglinawan? If you saw her “Itlog na Pula” shown last April (wait for our review in this blog), you would agree with me when I say that these two films feel so similar, you could randomly insert scenes from either films and you wouldn’t notice the difference! Telling a simple story is a major dilemma for Paglinawan and her storytelling posse which, then, begs the question – why stay in a business that you so miserably botch every time? She could be more productive planting say, turnips, or patola and mustasa. Or even kadyos! My dad loves kadyos – so Paglinawan will make one soul happy if she switches careers! If she has green thumbs, she could even get herself declared “Farmer of the Year” in Bayombong, Catanduanes or Tawi Tawi. Ayaw n'ya nun? It's a relatively more promising career!

Jerome Pineda exudes good looks, confidence and natural charisma.

JESSIE, JC

“Mga Lalake sa Balsa” is told in chronology, but it might as well be otherwise. Now here are just a few of the befuddling loopholes in its very elementary narrative. I was transported to the twilight zone when, from out of the blue, Jerome Pineda’s character Jessie suddenly bursts into “Baboy ka JC!” – as he stands with wet white briefs on riverine waters. Where did his palpable indignation come from? Isn’t Pineda’s character named Jessie? Was there another Jessie? Turns out, the town voyeur – played by Mico Madrid – is homonymously named JC! Brilliant, right? Such flashes of inspiration. Jessie and JC! Weeh. Is there a dearth of names I wasn’t aware of? Or does this highlight the limited ideation of the scriptwriter? Mind you, naming characters has got to be the hardest preoccupation for a writer, debah?

Here's a possibility. There could only be one Jessie. Mico Madrid's character could originally be left unnamed, but some time, during the filming, the actors were fed the name of Jessie, thus this confusion! But adhering to this theory is highlighting the fact that the film makers are nothing but bunch of sniveling morons with brains the size of a mosquito. How can you not remember the name of characters you yourselves created? Thinking this much gives you toothache ba? :)

Mico's character hides behind rocks and bushes as he salivates on Jeremy Ian, Rocco Mateo and Jerome Pineda who enjoy several bath scenes (river and bathroom). These barrio boys are so hygienic, don’t you think? Moreover, when they bathe at the batis, they all assume supine position - they lie on their back with face and crotch upward! Is this how we are supposed to enjoy the river? This must be the new fad for summer! How fashionable!

Now why was JC “baboy”? Does he mimic porcine snort? Does he eat slop or kangkong? Not really. Towards the film’s conclusion, the dastardly deed is shown. JC sodomizes the unwilling Jessie during a transaction gone awry. (Jessie expects oral service, but JC overpowers the obviously mightier, taller, more muscular Jessie.) The film editor evidently misplaced the post-“rape” scenes of a grieving Jessie 30 minutes too early, and we’re not even talking about “flashbacks” since the narrative is, as said earlier, told in chronology. 

If the narrative thread is familiar, it is probably because (director) Darry dela Cruz is on board as Paglinawan’s assistant director. You see, in Dela Cruz’s films (“Bingwit”, “Daklot”, “Frontal”), his main characters always resort to prostitution, then someone always dies in the end. “Mga Lalake sa Balsa” is no different. In fact, two major characters die! How’s that for leveling up? J

Barbara Chavez as Lea, Mico Madrid (now Mickho Madrid) is the town voyeur JC

TATTERED BRIEFS

If you need a good laugh, look no further and take note of a couple of separate scenes involving Jeremy Ian and Jerome Pineda where, with cameras panning closely on their crotches, you notice big “holes” on their underwear! Holes! I swear I could see the rings of Venus and the moons of Jupiter. Or was that my imagination? What is this world coming to when a film production cannot even afford decent underwear for their actors? I was actually willing to loan my yaya to the production because she is excellent where needle work and sewing are concerned. In fact, I was ready to practice my crochet on those tattered undergarments, most especially Jerome’s. Ayayayayay! I whole heartedly volunteer! J

NO RAFTING

What’s funnier is how we never see these “rafters” row a balsa – not once. The rafts shown were broken and, surely, rafts couldn’t buoy on rocks. This makes the title - “Mga Lalake Sa Balsa” - spurious. Rafters who never sail? Ang galeng, right Chris Tiu?

Robots populate this ouvre, but you can hardly blame the actors who are made to portray character sketches with no valid sense of intent, each one a fallacious caricature. It’s likewise hard to impart empathy on people who deliver lines as oddly as this lot.

GLIMMER OF LIGHT

But there’s a surprising find at the end of this nebulous adventure – newcomer Jerome Pineda! With his gorgeous masculine features, Pineda delivers lines earnestly and naturally as though he has done this several times in the past. Yet this is just his second film (we saw him earlier in Paglinawan’s “Itlog na Pula”). Sure, his lines are befuddling, and the situations are egregious, but Pineda exudes confidence and a star swagger. It doesn’t hurt that he is exceedingly easy on the eyes! Barbara Chavez looks particularly doped out. Poor girl! As for the rest, let’s just say that their parts haven’t been kind to them.

So why should I?

Rocco Mateo is Tirso. He's in love with his friend Arnold.

Mico Madrid smells the plant? Or his underarm? :)

Jerome Pineda: naughty smirk!

Jerome Pineda invites you to his shower. :)

Barbara Chavez looked dazed all throughout.

Note:

Please read our featured post on Cinema Bravo and why Web Criticism sometimes makes us nginig.
- http://makemeblush2.blogspot.com/2016/10/cinema-bravo-film-criticisms-execrable.html

"Magdamag" - Rita Romances Edgar Allan in Fascinating Gabfest

Watching Joven Tan's "Magdamag" (The Tryst) is like watching a chamber play that only Monique Wilson's New Voice Company seems to be staging here. It's a rare form of film execution that slow burns a cinematic brew. And it requires patience and commitment from the audience, but the payback is gratifying.

As a theatrical piece, chamber play is a form performed in a minimum number of acts, played by a small cast with practically no set, no costumes, and small space. The form zeroes in on the didactic narrative rather than the foibles that characterize the fluff in stage musicals. This form produced the likes of Max Reinhardt and August Strindberg. And we are saying that "Magdamag" is presented similar to the intimacy of a chamber play.

Capsule

Like the recent "Two Funerals", the story takes place during the Holy Week when 37 year old Soledad (Rita Avila) meets 22 year old Joven (Edgar Allan Guzman) at a club in Boracay. They hook up and eventually end up in his pad, physically and emotionally disrobing each other between a series of intercourse.

Sol initially personifies the vulgar cougar, but in the course of their conversation, we learn more about her: she's a teacher, has 2 children, has endured several separations, and is married to a guy 15 years her senior. We also learn about Joven: a firedancer who hails from a religious town called New Washington (Aklan), is 15 years Sol's junior, and is engaged to an elder Swedish woman who plans to retire in Boracay. He cooks her post-coital omelet, while she offers him mallorca gin. Each word of disclosure brings them closer to each other, but by 4 AM, after another round of intercourse, it becomes clear that they are discontented souls who have disconsolate resignation to their fate. Will this tryst be their last? As Sol leaves Joven, copious tears are being shed. Joven writes down his mobile number. He hands his card to her. Then Sol walks back to the gentle shores as the sun gradually rises into Good Friday.

You have to simply listen to the words and watch Rita Avila at work as she confidently and deftly rides at the interplay of conversational paradoxes that come alive in Ms. Avila's verbal tussle with Edgar Allan Guzman, who suffers in terms of gravitas. When Sol offers to give him a blowjob, and he winces with embarrassment, she provokes him, "Di na titigas yan, ano?" "Bakla ba ang naka devirginize sa yo?" Then she continues, "Mga lalaki sa Pilipinas, lahat may karanasan sa bading!" Annoyed by her taunts, he pulls down his pants and forces his crotch on her mouth, which provoked a curiously contradictory reaction. She gags and turns to the sink to vomit.

Guzman needs to acquire a degree of pluckiness to counter Avila's delicious provocations. After all, despite his character's youth, Joven is a ripe 22. He isn't so innocent from the ways of the world - what with him marrying a foreigner for her house-buying inclination. Isn't that a naive case of pseudo-prostitution?

Writer Jerry Gracio turns in a smart script that gives director Joven Tan a substantial material far removed from the director's mediocre past. Unfortunately, the script at times becomes self-indulgent. Gracio sometimes forgets the logic within his verbal diarrhea: e.g. After another round of coitus, Sol turns to TV and watches porn, and complains, "Ano ba yan, wala man lang akong mapanood, kahit Wowowee." At 10:30PM she's expects to see Wowowee?

Despite the seemingly risky conversation pieces, there is nothing visually graphic for those expecting flesh and kink. Look elsewhere for your fix of genitalia (like the current pink film "Indie Boys") and graphic sex. Majority of the scenes happen inside a room, thus there is hardly a change of view. That, in itself, is a daunting task for the story teller who has to make his topics a little more florid to sustain attention.

It is a tall order to mention Reinhardt and Strindberg in the same breath as Joven Tan, the director of cringe-worthy films like "Tutok" and "Dalaw", but this film is without a doubt a decent work. It deserves my most gracious applause. It isn't for those whose idea of cinematic fun is a slap-happy scene, a rabid car chase, a naked pubescent hero, tech-savvy CG effects, or a finger-snapping terpsichorean swirl. "Magdamag" doesn't have any of those. It is simply a compelling piece of thought-provoking, neuron-inspiring character study.

Rita Avila: luminous and provocative.

Edgar Allan Guzman: "Mr. Pogi" winner shares stellar billing with Rita Avila.