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.

Dante Nico Garcia's Madaling Araw, Mahabang Gabi - Tales of the Drunken Stupor

Local residents and foreign visitors converge in a bar in Palawan’s Cuyo Island on the eve of All Soul’s Day. A band plays its raucous number as music slices through the lull of the night. The place comes alive when the bar owner’s daughter (Angelica Panganiban) arrives clearly inebriated, and offers every one free drinks. But wait, the town is also celebrating the feast of “Pangangaluluwa” (a traditional welcome to All Soul’s Day). The feast would have revelers move from house to house, singing verses that threaten to steal from the living and offer them to the dead (usually livestock like chicken, eggs, and even pigs). The bar owner’s daughter offers P10,000 - and herself for a night of pleasure - to the one who presents the best loot before the night is over. Every soul in the restaurant soon scatters around. This opens a venue to introduce a bevy of characters.

An aging father (Buboy Garovillo) teams up with a skeptical guitarist (Rocco Nacino) to steal and collect coconut crabs. But all the father desires is a guitar lesson – so he could impress his daughter. A French tourist (DJ David Callum) enlists the help of the waiter (Alchris Galura) to find the anonymous girl (Glaiza de Castro) with whom he’s had a one-night stand. A couple of dope heads (Kean Cipriano and Edgar Allan Guzman) bump into a sophisticated cougar (Cherie Gil) who’s rushing for her rendezvous with her lover, her best friend’s husband. An effete, but virginal waiter (Dominic Roco) runs after a group of customers who sneaks away from their bill – with the help of the band’s lead singer (Karel Marquez). A band member (Tutti Karingal) along with an Indian national (Eric Tai) decides to steal a valuable painting in a rural bank, disarming the security guard (Lou Veloso) in the process. Problem is, the painting is nowhere found. A disparaged Cosplayer (Bojong Fernandez) takes the likeness of anime’ personality Krisma to prove his worth to his gang (Regine Angeles, et.al.)

Director Dante Nico Garcia’s “Madaling Araw, Mahabang Gabi” is a cornucopia of situational sketches replete with extraneous narrative elements that are too disparate to piece together. Most of the strains are fashioned like tepid pseudo-comedies without commensurate punch lines. In fact, Garcia peppers his ouvre with loads of characters too eccentric to root for. He weaves them without much empathy. Like "kwentong lasing", these are easily discardable anecdotes with their unretentive preponderance. 

Angelica Panganiban, one of the industry's most prolific actresses, makes a grave career misstep, depicting herself like some beerhouse airhead hosting an episode of "Banana Split". The difference being: this one's several times morose and capricious. In fact, whoever fashions this like some high profile comedy deserves to be sent to some dungeon and locked 'til eternity. The unamusing strains remind me of Adolf Alix's "D' Survivors" where hilarity of situation is limited within the cast members. Let's not go far: the director's 2009 flick "Oh! My Girl! (A Laugh Story)" starring Judy Anne Santos and Ogie Alcasid was painfully ludicrous - and one of the decade's worst. Garcia just doesn't have the comedic flair - nor the insightful cinematic acumen that allows his movie goers to sit back and enjoy. He instead peppers his canvas with a dizzying array of  elements believing somehow that "more is better". He is able to gather a great number of stars who fails to parlay an iota of gravitas because... well, each of their narrative milieu is ridiculous.

Cherie Gil, for example, makes her career's most graceless and embarrassing cameo. Her scenes with Edgar Allan Guzman and Kean Cipriano have the augury akin to a pig sty. It was like a chapter straight out of a bad acting workshop exercise with personalities who couldn't generate chemistry nor a sense of authenticity. Likewise, Dominic Roco appears in one of his worst performances. His virginal gay waiter drips with cardboard caricature, and it doesn't help that his narrative strain with Karel Marquez is a cauldron of fallacy. Which waiter tells his customer, "Baka ma reprimand ka ng dad mo?" Huh? And in which universe do you get a line like, "Kaya ka bakla, kasi 'di ka pa nakakatikim ng babae?" You mean gay men should sleep with a woman first to corroborate the obvious? I'd have thought there were easier, albeit less painful ways of knowing for sure. Someone's overthinking the uncomplicated. Why did Karel and Dominic end up shagging each other? There was nothing in the narrative that could readily validate this twist. The list of these head scratchers are a plenty. And I've never seen these actors in their worst. What a waste!

Glaiza de Castro's story with the Frenchman was curiously more complete than the other stories. Yet in its form, we see the most glaring weakness of the writer. He fabricates melodrama crisscrossing serendipitous romance and tragedy. Why was it so hard to find Glaiza? It wasn't like she migrated to Sorbonne or Belize or somewhere exotic for the wandering Frenchman. All he had to do was retrace his itinerary. Go back to Sabang and ask the boatmen about this nameless girl. Surely, the one and only Vietnamese Restaurant in Vietville could have identified and located the girl who lived just a block away. And why nameless? Was it a secret, otherwise national security is put at risk? Search me. Was the Frenchman mute that he couldn't ask her name? More importantly, wasn't that miscarriage scene too unnaturally concocted? I thought I was daydreaming, watching a continuation of Coco Martin and Julia Montes' "Walang Hanggan".

"Madaling Araw, Mahabang Gabi" is as directionless as its busy poster, and as vague and unfocused as it's ambiguous title. For some strange conceit, Garcia won't even name his characters, further alienating his audience. How else does one relate to anonymous characters? Such ploy could have worked if your film making skill was sufficient; not when you're frittering away in your exposition. The writer and director badly needs a moment to contemplate career changes for his own good. Fielding ones' story with high profile names doesn't necessarily make a great movie - and this flick is a testament to that. 

Why are directors of GMA's "Survivor" reality show horrible film makers? Is it in their diet? Are they subconsciously programmed to be borderline directors? Or do the GMA executives have an affinity towards mediocre talent? 

The part where Bojong Fernandez dresses up into his favorite lady anime character was particularly agonizing. His psychobabble about dressing up and homosexual tendencies were mere ramblings of a scatterbrain with nothing worth saying. These diarrheic ideations were so expendable, you could have stricken out his character and lose nothing to move the film. All I could think of was how my cinema entrance could have been spent better as donation to a children's charity. Not like this. I wanted to scoop out the director, tie him upside down on a tree until he comes to his senses. Stay away from a movie camera. Do something more fruitful. Plant a sineguelas maybe. Volunteer to join the missionaries who travel to Djibouti. Anything but making movies. Do not waste the moviegoers' hard earned money. Please!

Inebriated

A religious girl falls under the spell of the wandering Frenchman.

A French traveler is looking for an anonymous girl. How can he not know her  name? She went  with him to visit the Underground River, not to mention their salubrious lay in the hay.

Karel Marquez and Dominic Roco play out their invalid situational discourse. Unfortunately, not a single moment was credible.

Kean flirts with Cherie where the latter is looked down (by Edgar Allan Guzman) like some shriveled prune.

Bojong Fernandez hams it up: "Hindi ako bakla!"

Posing for posterity.

Angelica Panganiban

Cherie Gil's career embarrassment

Glaiza de Castro

Rocco Nacino plays the homophobic guitar player

David Callum

DJ and model David Callum plays a wandering Frenchman

Regine Angeles

Dominic Roco

Praybeyt Benjamin - Selectively Hilarious

Benjamin Santos (Vice Ganda) comes from a long line of aggressive military men bristling with machismo. Unfortunately, he isn’t a slice of the same pie. He sashays with lurid sways in the most flamboyant fashion and his parents (Jimmy Santos and Malu de Guzman) don’t seem to mind. During a party that pays homage to the family’s grand patriarch (Eddie Garcia), Benjamin reunites with his grandfather who hasn’t seen him in quite a while. Needless to say, he isn’t amused to find his flaming “apo” swishier than the next parlorista. In fact, the elder Santos is flabbergasted. Benjie’s pretty much disowned.

Meanwhile, when a local terrorist group, the Bandidos, succeeds to hold in captivity most of the country’s military arm, the country is thrown into chaos. Civil war ensues, and the debilitated government has tasked each family to volunteer a member who would be trained to join the national forces that shall retake sovereign rule. The Santoses are in a dilemma. Benjie’s father is forced to volunteer despite his coterie of systemic illnesses, not to mention his age and physical stature. When conscience assaults our cross-dressing protagonist, Benjie finds himself in a bus full of similar volunteers, willing to sacrifice life and limb for a beleaguered nation.

A group of ragtag misfits joins Benjie including Jojo (Joji Lorenzo), the squad coward; Big Boy (Ricky Rivero), the morbidly obese glutton; Emerson (Kean Cipriano), the boyish nerd; Lucresia (Nikki Valdez), the bellicose girl who’s bent to extract Benjie’s confession regarding his sexuality; Buhawi Manay (Vandolph Quizon) who “sees dead people”, et.al. Then there’s Brando Estolas (Derek Ramsay), the hunky platoon leader.

There’s a hitch in Benjie’s plan of redemption: the military frowns upon homosexuals. He has to keep it closeted or he won’t have the chance to help in the rescue of his grandfather from the latter’s captors. But would Benjie be able to hold his ruse when his “hot papa” platoon leader’s anything but unfriendly? In fact, Brando’s offering him a massage in his own quarters! Is it bait? What to do?

In broad comedic strokes, Vice Ganda flaunts his mastery of spoken sarcasm that even mediocre lines don’t sound so bad with his delivery as they should as written material. Lines like “Puro kayo atay at balun balunan, wala kayong puso!” (You’re all liver and gallbladder, but heartless) become morsels of joy. When his father asked why Benjie’s visiting the “punerarya”, he replies with “mamimili ng ulam, gusto nyo ng dinuguan?” If you doubt this, hear how a full house crowd laps it up, it’s unbelievable. Ganda’s acidic dispatch carries a sense of slap-happy realization that indeed, some questions are too silly to be answered.

The most diverting parts are the scenes involving Ganda’s deception; that he is a suppressed flaming fag in a straight man’s turf: scenes at the obstacle course, at the common shower room, his moments with Brando (Derek) which derives the most laughs. Most of the scenes involving Derek bring the crowd to vicious roars of laughter: Vice and Derek running towards each other a la Gabby and Sharon; Vice being rescued from drowning via resuscitation; Vice ebulliently doing push ups as he daydreams of Brando gazing seductively on the ground. Since when has watching a gay guy “crave” for a man become swoon worthy? Try now.

The film is peppered with screwball materials we’ve expected from director Wenn V. Deramas whose comedic resume unfurls from delightful fodders (“Ang Tanging Ina”) to moronic clutter (“BFF: Best Friends Forever”, “Petrang Kabayo”, “Hating Kapatid”). I have been wondering how Deramas has managed to spread himself too thin with a succession of work that continues to deteriorate in film making proficiency. Doesn’t experience make one a better auteur? Apparently not. Truth is, “Praybeyt Benjamin” is home to some of the most hideous computer-generated images to grace the local screen in recent memory. Check out the climbing-the-pole scenes; or the human slingshot scenes. His pococurante stagings are too obvious to ignore. You’d find the end of the harness hanging behind the actors while they float away on powdery scenes. This is a bit annoying because you would expect better craftsmanship, i.e. cinematography and production values, from a mainstream flick such as this.

There are mind benders in the story as well. Twelve generals get kidnapped and the country is in chaos? That’s all it takes? And when you’re recruiting able bodied people, how do you explain someone of Jimmy Santos’ girth and age to make the grade? Females and the aged are allowed, as well as those with hypertension, diabetes, and hemorrhoids – but not physically fit gays? Are we still in an era where gay men are the scourge of the earth? Every one can help, but the gays? Sometimes it is sad that it’s the openly gay personalities like Deramas who discriminate against his own.

Luis Manzano cameos with the horse from “Petrang Kabayo” (Vice Ganda's first starrer), while Angelica Panganiban lends her voice as Derek’s girlfriend (also played by Vice Ganda). Others in the cast include Carlo Agassi, Bodie Cruz and Dennis Padilla.

The entertainment quotient of “Praybeyt Benjamin” relies heavily on Vice Ganda’s dry wit, sincere humor and acerbic delivery. They are his tickets to relatability to a once-homophobic general public despite his overt sexual orientation. In this regard, Vice Ganda has broken barriers. Suddenly, straight men aren't anxious with the third sex. The comedian has taken a new generation of men into a higher level of maturity. Suddenly, gay men are not objects of ridicule. After all, they do that on themselves quite compellingly. That’s a considerable degree of success, if you ask me. If only Vice Ganda employed a more insightful director who doesn't rush around his principal photography.

Derek Ramsay: The British Filipino actor is the unexpected toast of tinseltown after huge blockbusters like "No Other Woman" and "Praybeyt Benjamin".


Alwyn Uytingco and Kean Cipriano


Andrew Wolff, the Philippine Volcano star, plays Abe Sayaf, a terrorist soldier.

Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank – Endlessly Tickling Our Funny Bones

Marlon Rivera’s “Ang Babae sa Septic Tank” (The Woman in the Septic Tank) is a high wire act of film making. It’s perceptive and hilarious in ways too far removed from the usual Pinoy comedy. It playfully runs rings around human folly where boundless ambition is held up to scorn and ridicule. In fact, this is one work that elevates local humor to greater heights. This likewise underscores the capability of the Filipino to weave a yarn dripping with wit and hilarity, I’d be proud to recommend this to anyone: friends, family, foe - even to Indonesian producer Delon Teo who believes that movies should bear no logic (go figure)!

In the film, the narrative follows an independent film making crew – director Rainier (Kean Cipriano), producer Bingbong (JM de Guzman) and their production assistant Jocelyn (Cai Cortez) – as they wind their way to making a film about a woman with seven children as they navigate their environs in urban squalor. The filmmaking crew's budget allows them a mere 12 days of principal photography.

With a script on hand, they scrutinize every detail of the production, from the story (straight out narrative versus docu-drama), the camera to be used, post production requirement and editing, the look and setting of the film, the titling ("Walang Wala"), its poster, and its eventual casting.

With international festivals provocatively whirling at the back of their minds, the pumped up trio eventually lands at the door of Miss Eugene Domingo, the actress who’s being offered the role of Mila, the desperate housewife from the slums who’s out of her wits feeding her seven kids with watered down noodles. One day, Mila finds herself peddling her little boy to a Caucasian pedophile. Now, how receptive is Domingo to the project? We find out in one of the most joyous conclusions that had us laughing in shameless stitches and beguilement.

The movie is a social commentary on poverty porn, this dime-a-dozen new age genre of Philippine cinema that takes advantage of the country’s sweeping poverty - the squalor, despondency and moral ambiguity that pervades in society. It likewise generously takes shots of the inflated egos running around the world of legitimate independent film makers.

In one of several masterful narrative devices discussing their choices of actress to portray their cinematic heroine, we find Eugene Domingo, Cherry Pie Picache and Mercedes Cabral alternately portraying Mila; a tack that’s such a delectable treat for the audience’s cogitative state. In fact, we find ourselves engaged in the casting of Mila. It conjures interactive participation from its audience. Who would have thought this was possible in Philippine cinema?

In another scene, the buttoned up production assistant re-imagines the story told as a musical, and once again, it gallantly comments on the inherent mawkishness of the medium – was it referring to the previous Cinemalaya hit, Florida Bautista’s “Saan Nagtatago si Happiness?” or even Chito Rono’s “Emir”? There were very similar scenes as a crowd of irregular settlers dance in wild abandon. While Mila waits for her child by the stairs, we see Domingo immerse herself in dire emotionality typical of the genre. We were actually snickering.

I have two favorite scenes: The first was the trio’s encounter with the high-flying Arthur Poongbato, the indie film maker who, on his very first film, won big at the Venice, and got rave reviews at the Cannes. Someone suggested to us that this was Pepe Diokno whose “Engkwento” (Clash) won a couple of awards at the Venice Film Festival, but we know this wasn't so. Diokno, who’s Ateneo-bred, obviously knows his subject-verb agreement; is known to be mild mannered, and is aware of his espressos from “expressos”. Another tweety bird told us that this was Auraeus Solito, a brilliant director (we love his “Busong” to bits) who doesn’t seem to have a lot of local fans or friends within his filmmaking crowd. In the movie, the jetsetting new director is in a daze with all the international film festival invitations he has to attend. “Parang umuuwi lang ako ng Pilipinas para mag shower,” he remarks in jest. And he has yet to fly to these remote-sounding places: Mar del Plata (Argentina), Cairo, and Vesoul. When asked where Vesoul is, there was the unmistakable chirping of the crickets.

Fact is, we have a subcommunity of film makers who take a premium on international film festivals, ignoring the local scene altogether; their works never see exhibition for the 95 million Filipinos to appreciate. What good are these awards if they don’t even lift a finger to get their works shown in commercial theaters? What is their international recognition worth, but inflated egos, and not much else. At least not to the home crowd who can’t fly to Toronto, Pusan or Rotterdam to watch their masterpieces.

Our other favorite scene was when they finally meet the voluble Eugene Domingo to discuss the project. Domingo executes her mastery of the comedic language in flagrant strokes that defy adequate description. When she finally objects to scenes involving her physical immersion in a septic tank, all hell breaks lose. And on my second viewing, we found the scenes even more hilarious. “Tae yan; madumi ang tae,” Domingo emphasized.

When Domingo drops her lines with a certain rhythm and cadence (check out the three types of acting in her book), we shriek with laughter. She is such a joy to behold.

Frontal nudity, check! Sex scenes with actual penetration, check! Domingo enumerates things she’s willing to do for her art. But a septic tank? Will she or won’t she? You have to watch this to witness one of the most hilarious highlights to ever grace the silver screen. Scriptwriter Chris Martinez outdoes himself and turns up a tight, insightful work that, as one of his characters underline, works in many levels. Not the least of which is as one darn funny movie.

We chuckle at the sheer ambition and arrogance of its young film makers, but we're somehow lost in the preternatural re-imaginings such as the narrative that turns into a protracted musical - or a gritty in-your-face docu-drama. When Domingo lampoons herself as a mainstream personality (replete with product endorsements), her segment significantly veers away from thematic focus, as much as all her suggestions - in the guise of being "collaborative" - ultimately water down much of the film makers' raw vision on realist cinema. And didn't anyone notice Larry Manda's underwhelming cinematography? The film, in fact, opens with pixelated images adorning the opening frame. But these are minor quibbles. If anyone fails to recognize the superior craftsmanship in a film such as this, then you can be sure there won't be a lot of movies better realized and more superior than Marlon Rivera's flick.