Paul Singh Cudail's Luhod sa Harapan - Found Hopelessly Wanting

Carlo (Dustin Jose), an irascible taxi driver, is having a bad day. His sister Nicole (Renee Lopez) carries a torch for him. One night, from a deep slumber, he finds her lying beside him. This gets him livid beyond belief. To make matters worse, gay housemate Rolly (Dennis Cruz) is likewise pining for his affection. And he's losing his patience fast. Such malediction! How has he become this irresistible? Gawd!

To drown him out of his sorrow, he turns to the booze and ends up surlier than ever. He accuses people of taking advantage of him during his drunken stupor – and eventually ends up driving everyone away. 

While Nicole relocates to pursue her dream of working abroad, Rolly moves out and becomes an ambulant pansit salesman, and takes a lover (Nino Abel).

One day, Carlo crashes his car while heavily inebriated. With no one to care for him, what becomes of this grumpy Romeo? Would Nicole abandon her dreams so she could take care of Carlo, who isn't really her blood brother, by the way? Has Rolly forgotten Carlo? Guess.

Rolly gets his chance with Carlo.

Dissecting stories from this genre is sometimes a futile exercise. After all, director Paul Singh Cudail has never delivered a passable film in his life - and the preponderance of a very limited insight on good storytelling is in itself a major debacle. He riddles his narrative with loopholes and questions begging to be asked. The most obvious question here is: why was Carlo extremely agitated and eternally furious of Nicole’s attraction for him? Isn't it extreme to kick a girl out of your house just because she’s in love with you? Maybe he’s a loony? Or needs anger management classes? Whatever his problem is, Cudail fails to explore this dilemma, which is odd, considering it is what’s driving his plot.

But who cares about plots – or making sense of it all? Cudail just wants to highlight Dennis Cruz’s bottom-baring shower scene (after being berated by Jose, Cruz was so devastated he had to run to the bathroom, cry a river, and soap up his backside until they glistened – such scintillating turn of events indeed). As if that wasn't enough, this is abruptly followed by another shower scene with Dustin Jose. In this scene, he apparently forgot for a second that he’s supposed to be drunk, or angry – thus he takes a (drum roll, please) … shower! You see, Cudail loves his bathrooms and he makes ample use of them.

Like other Pink flicks, the production values here resort to the minimum. A dirge continuously plays, scene after scene, a la punebre, surely paying homage to the demise of the film maker’s neurons. For example, there’s much ado about Carlo’s lost wallet (he dropped it during one of his drinking sprees) but this was left in the lurch. In another scene, a confrontation between Carlo and Nicole is drowned out by a couple of rabid dogs barking. Editing is another gray area. Rolly is shown arguing with his lover Benji (Abel) who refuses to break up with the fed-up Rolly, “Bakit ganyan kayong mga lalaki? Di ba kayo pwedeng sex now, pay later?” Cut to the next scene: Rolly and Benji get out of bed after a roll in the hay. And I thought they've broken up already? Post break-up sex, anyone?

Now let’s get into the story telling acumen of the writer. Here's a glaring scenario in the film. It's simple but underlines the mind set of the story teller and/or script writer. Rolly arrives at a sari sari store, after a day of peddling noddles. “Pabili nga ho ng softdrinks,” he tells the manang. She asks, “Ano’ng gusto nyo?” He replies, “Kahit ano ho.” What twat couldn't pick a specific brand? So if the manang handed over an “Amrat Cola” from Pakistan, “Cuba Libre” from Havana, “Bidu Cola” from Argentina or “Star Cola” from Myanmar, he’d accept it without a word? What if he's actually given "Markang Demonyo" Cola? Kahit ano eh! Now I know why a punebre plays overtime.

The penultimate scene has Dustin Jose weeping til he’s blue (above). Then in the most inane delivery, he says, “Kailangan ko pang mabulag para maibalik ko sa yo ang pagmamahal na ibinigay mo.” Huh? Did he suddenly turn affectionate? Or is someone in dire need of a dramatic ending to wrap his story up?

“Luhod sa Harapan” tries to set up a stage to eke out a scenario that would put “Bukas Luluhod ang Mga Tala” or “Babangon Ako’t Dudurugin Kita” to shame. Kneel before me and lick my shoes, right? “Isang araw luluhod ka rin,” says the blurb. But there’s none of that here except that as epilogue, Carlo, now hopelessly blind – and still wearing the skimpiest white briefs, mind you - finally gives in to Rolly’s unabashed love and adoration. Aren't we tickled pink? How's that for denouement?   

Dennis Cruz (left) holds a priceless family jewel. Nino Abel (right) covers his. ;)

Nino Abel, Dustin Jose and Dennis Cruz practice color-coding.

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!

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".

Paul Singh Cudail's Hawla - Opprobrious Mentality

Harry (Johnron Tanada) is down on his luck. Unemployed and penniless, he needs fast cash to move away from the cramped dorm he shares with his friend Ethan (Mygz Molino). The latter suggests a concupiscent “booking” with the generous Tattoo Man (John Relucio), a seaman who was once convicted as a drug mule. Unfortunately for the reluctant Harry, his customer gets his kicks sodomizing his men. Anyway, it was something he had to endure to keep his finances afloat.

After finding a new lodging, things start picking up for Harry. He shares his digs with new friends, Brix and Robbie (Francis Cabral and Dice Vergara) who both work as nurses. But something’s amiss. Two weeks into Harry’s stay, he starts to notice Brix’s illicit visits to a seemingly quarantined room in the house. What is Brix hiding? Meanwhile, even Harry’s employment prospect perks up! Pending medical clearance, he gets the green light in a lucrative call center. He even chances on Chris (Rein Soliman) – the random stranger he once shared sexual rendezvous with - as his supervisor.

On the home front, he learns about Berna (Carla Varga), Brix’s very sick mother. And she’s dying from AIDS! She once worked in Kuwait, but got raped by her employer. These days, Berna is kept isolated in a dark room with nothing, but a bed, a fan and a mosquito net! Is she contagious like the plague? She must be. Otherwise, why would they segregate her like a leper? Why is her condition a hushed state of affair even in her own house?  

When Harry reports at the office, he gets the shock of his life when he learns that he is HIV-positive! “Hindi lahat ng callboy may HIV,” he tells his employer with due venom, I am sure the latter couldn’t be anything but dazed. What is this dingbat saying? Who’s accusing him of prostitution? Heavens!

Devastated by his boss’ patronizing demeanor, Harry bolts out of the office, and never comes back. He incessantly mopes, but never shares his condition with Brix and Robbie. When Berna expires, Brix takes her body to the province (why she needs to be cremated elsewhere is befuddling) leaving Harry under Robbie’s competent care. In fact, the latter fawns on him like his own patient. From out of the blue, Robbie confesses that he is gay. And somewhere along the narrative misconjugations, Harry and Robbie get it on – by the staircase! Wehhh!

Will this coupling lend courage to the agonizing Harry?  Will this circumstance allow him to break away from his recondite dilemma? Would Brix and Robbie pursue their Canadian dream now that they’ve received word from their prospective employers? Or will love (believe it or not!) prevail?

Harry (Johnron Tanada) shares brotherly moments with nurse Robbie (Dice Vergara).

BLOOD EXAMS BY XRAY: NEW TECHNOLOGY?

Director Paul Singh Cudail once again displays his profound philistinism to the topic at hand. His paltry insight on HIV and AIDS would have you believe that those inflicted become unproductive individuals, and that they automatically turn scourge of society. In fact, he showcases his ignorance by choosing the call center industry as backdrop to his misleading tale. After all, this industry is believed to have a swarming population of HIV-positive individuals (according to statistical reports). If Cudail is to be believed, that HIV-positive people cannot work at call centers, then it would probably spell catastrophe into the industry. A stark proof of Cudail’s idiocy is a scene showing the medical report that, indeed, Harry was HIV-positive! This paper was amazingly signed by an X-ray technician and a radiologist, instead of a medical technologist and a pathologist! Even my 7-year-old niece and my yaya (who didn’t finish grade school) know who does blood tests, and it isn’t the X-ray man, is it? I had to stop myself from laughing so hard. Geez!

Robbie is Canada-bound.

MAGNIFYING THE SHORT OF IT

Like most Pink Films, the characters in “Hawla” (Cage) had to endure their requisite shower scene so they can flash their family jewels for a millisecond. Of course, it allows Cudail to ogle at Mygz Molino, John Relucio and nubile Dice Vergara as they allow Cudail to exploit them. You can only dream of getting into Cudail’s secret outtakes for his own masturbatory fun! J After all, you can hardly deny Cudail’s conceit where his actors are concerned. The proof, honey, is in the pudding. While Harry is washing his laundry, Ethan joins him in the bathroom so he could soap away his 2 incher. Instead of covering up, Ethan turns to the camera for a second, “adjusts” his towel and in the process, exposes his miniscule jitterbug - and we all clap with joy… err, I mean hilarity! I have never seen anything as “cute”. And really now, while you’re flashing it, it’s never flattering to deliver the goods in the “short” of things! Magnifying glass alert!

These uncomplimentary moments are the director’s fault really. He tends to be walking in a haze while filming this cinematic detritus. Maybe it’s Dice Vergara’s presence that muddles his storytelling adroitness – or the lack of it. Afterall, Vergara looks deliciously fresh, he might as well be newly harvested from Cudail’s Facebook rummages. Unfortunately, Vergara’s presence doesn’t pack a wallop, except when he disrobes and hands Johnron a pack of condom for his hemorrhoidal incursions. Mocha chocolata yaya, indeed! Right, Christina?

THE PERFUNCTORY AND THE SINISTER

Johnron Tanada, the veteran hunk, moves in perfunctory fashion, but seems ill at ease in most of his scenes. He must really hate what he’s doing. Poor guy! John Relucio (as the mean-looking Tattoo Man) figures in a short but scorching scene with the diffident Harry. I'm telling you, all those sinister tattoos (see photo in this post to know what I mean) could singe the timid. Relucio in fact bears a strong presence. Too bad he was relegated to an exploitative cameo

Johnron Tanada

HEAD SCRATCHERS

There are several head scratching moments in this flick. When is HIV testing a prerequisite for local employment? When Chris (Rein Soliman) learns about Harry’s test results, he goes amok. But wait, could he really contract the virus by just fellating the guy? Didn’t they get it on for like 5 minutes? Did he swallow? It sure is possible but statistics about oral sex are limited. The CDC in fact has this to say: “Yes, it is possible for either partner to become infected with HIV through performing or receiving oral sex, though it is a less common mode of transmission than other sexual behaviors (anal and vaginal sex). While no one knows exactly what the degree of risk is, evidence suggests that the risk is less than that of unprotected anal or vaginal sex.”

In another scene, a Nihonggo-speaking secretary suddenly joins a long-jawed tranny in a gag-inducing dance – right in the lobby of a call center office! You wonder where this misplaced scene figures in an already bungled narrative. Cudail displays his ineptitude with such flight of ideas.

Now here’s a piece of the call center population. A lady trainor introduces a speaker – even before she identifies who she is – and says: “Our speaker will give you a short messages!” Another scene has an agent taking a call: “This is Kebin. How me I hilp you?” Anyare, ‘te?  And you wonder why quality of this industry is dwindling into fast mediocrity. When Harry was told about his condition (by the Call Center Manager, no less), the latter gives his two cents worth: “Don’t deny the reality if it’s the reality!” Ano daw?

The film’s most grievous sin lies in its stark ignorance of the illness. It does a grave disservice to the thousands of afflicted persons by portraying them as a useless, hopeless, dying breed fit to be caged in a dank, dark room.  Mr. Cudail is too ignorant to realize that a great number of this population is still productive – functional, happy – members of the community! Such opprobrious mentality deserves to be caged!  

Dice Vergara

John Relucio scorches as the Tattoo Man.

John Relucio

Rein Soliman as Chris Ramos, a call center supervisor.

Mygz Molino as Ethan: "Cute".

Paul Singh Cudail's Maligalig - Redundant and Stupefying

Ricardo (Ross Uy) is a punctilious son who dutifully helps out with his impoverished family’s needs. But the town of Alitagtag isn’t a solicitous environment for a young strapping lad like this baby faced protagonist. His lazy, unemployed father is a vicious gambler who wagers on money he doesn’t have. With debts piling up, Ricardo’s father is soon dodging equally miscreant collectors and the people he owe money to. One day, during an altercation with his wife (she refuses to hand him her savings allotted for paying bills), he accidentally stabs her dead. He makes a run from the crime scene. Ricardo comes home and finds his mother (Beth Coronel) slain. While attempting to remove the knife from his mother’s chest, a neighbor enters the scene screaming, “Bakit mo pinatay ang nanay mo?” This time, it was Ricardo’s turn for a hasty skedaddle. Meanwhile, the runaway father gets runover by a speeding truck. And there goes the solitary witness of Ricardo’s innocence.

As an acute stress response, Ricardo’s psyche is shaken. The dazed romeo aimlessly scampers off like a sprint prince until he reaches Manila! If you were to consider Alitagtag’s distance from the fringes of Manila, you have before you a hefty 79.6 kilometers (almost 50 miles). Quite a feat, if you ask me. Was he gunning for a world record? I wonder. Because he apparently finished this admirable feat within 24 hours. Heck, it wasn’t even sundown yet when Dondie (Dustin Jose) finds Ricardo’s body spread unconsciously down the ground. Why would he consciously help the poor soul? Maybe it’s because this unfortunate lad has flawless Olay-cured skin? Who knows, right?

 Dondie meanwhile runs a losing travel agency (well, he never shows up for work, that should be a hint). His wife recently abandoned him. He is left with his teenage son Junjun who’s baffled by his parent’s separation. It would soon come to light. Dondie has acquired the habit of enjoying his occasional bootie calls. He would invite a guy over (Jake Galleon) for the requisite lay in the hay. When Dondie, finds Ricardo, he takes the latter home to the consternation of his effete yaya (Rick Rick Sabik). When Junjun runs away from home, Dondie diligently occupies himself with his “maligalig” (burdensome) guest, now exhibiting a blunt affect. He conveniently forgets altogether that his son is nowhere. He even calls a doctor (Kim Allen) for consultation when common sense would have you search for the missing child first. Quite inspiring turn of events, right?

Ricardo is all sweaty from his solitary marathon, thus he needs his bath - stat! Out of Dondie’s kind heart, he personally attends to Ricardo’s bath, laboriously taking off his briefs and making “piga” his briefs, carefully soaping every inch of the catatonic guy’s body where it’s needed. You see, it’s imperative that his guests be very clean, right? It’s a requisite more important than finding his son!

Would Dondie be able to help the disturbed Ricardo?  

(Dustin Jose) finds Ricardo’s body spread unconsciously down the ground. Why would he consciously help the poor soul? Maybe it’s because this unfortunate lad has flawless Olay-cured skin? Who knows, right?

The crux of the narrative centers on the events surrounding the death of Ricardo Silang’s mother. Thus newcomer Ross Uy immerses himself in alternating moments of catatonia, excessive grief, and short spouts of lucidity. Unfortunately, thought Ross Uy isn’t exactly as hammy as – say Jeff Luna or Anton Molina – his scenes tend to dictate a one-note emotive modality. And after a while, this gets tedious and irritating, you’d wish he would just jump off the bridge to get it over and done with! Why? Because his supposed “Post Traumatic Stress” has evolved into anything relatable to the psychiatric pathology. He soon acquires visual hallucinations of his spine-tingling mother turning up to give him ripe mangoes.

Where have you heard of mangoes as a point of horrific contention? Mangoes and ghosts forthwith come together like hands in glove. Damn! Only in the Philippines! I swear I will never look at mangoes the same way ever again.

Dustin Jose’s character is likewise bewildering. He opens the scene with a bath; something that he has done a hundred times before in more than a dozen films. It’s his de rigueur scene. I have come to an easy conclusion that Mr. Jose has to be one of the cleanest guys in the firmament of Pink flicks! In fact, we should test his bacteriological component and experiment on the different types of bactericidal soups while he’s at it. Might as well make his predilection to bathing relatively commodious, debah? He also succeeds in canoodling with Ricardo's joysticks all in the name of concern for humanity, of course! He finds a catatonic guy and even calls for a doctor to treat him -  then he imposes his err "hard" love on him. How very politically appropriate indeed. :)

Director Paul Singh Cudail is eternally lost in his narrative balderdash. This is evident in a series of scenes as redundant as his movies. Ricardo would wake up beside a sleeping Dondie, seemingly lucid. Then he would run away – once again, aimlessly. Then he finally turns up once again in Dondie’s place. If you count these scenes, you would somehow feel a sense of déjà vu because this keeps repeating ad nauseam. Somehow, Cudail needs to bump something against the wall (try the head?) so he could probably shake the tedium of his worn stories and narrative dilemmas. Instead of fixating on Ross Uy’s full frontal scenes (yes, there are several do-not-blink-or- you –will-miss-the-mushroom-head scenes), he should concentrate on the story at hand instead of obsessing on 2-inch wieners of good looking actor-wannabe’s. It’s really sad how this industry has turned into the perverted hobby of a few brainless schmucks who can’t even discern “narrative preponderance” of stories they themselves conjure: like prioritizing the mental health of a catatonic gentleman over a lost son!

But then such is the conceit of cheap exploitative flicks like this. You don’t require logic served on genitalia-hungry Pink lovers, right? It’s the penis that matters. Nothing else!

Dustin Jose as Dondie and Ross Uy as Ricardo.

Dondie and Ricardo

Dustin Jose and Jake Galleon

Dustin Jose and his predilection for bathing. After posing and sitting on a rock, he would need to soap away the grime on his backside, wouldn't he? :)

Baby faced Ross Uy does a 79.6 kilometer sprint from Batangas to Manila.

Ross Uy

Kubli - An Impressionable Romance

As children, Raffy and Marco were inseparable, living their facile existence in the backroads of Masbate. Marco was there when Raffy’s mother passed away, and Raffy saved Marco from drowning. They share an irrefutable bond way beyond kinship. But when they turned 14, Marco (whose family owns the resort grounds where Raffy’s impoverished family dwells) had to move to Manila to pursue his education. As a token of their friendship, Marco left his friend a pair of pigeons and a ring.

Years later, we find a grown up Raffy (Johnron Tanada) working as a “magkakawayan” (bamboo cutter) earning a paltry P5 a bamboo stick. Unfortunately, bamboo sticks are dwindling. He’s trying to save some money for a Manila education that he plans to pursue unaware that Marco (Eugene Tejada) has finally come home. The latter doesn’t have plans of staying though. The family resort has fallen to neglect and isn’t earning anymore. Selling the place seems the better option. When they finally meet, their camaraderie is rekindled. They make up for lost time by spending all their time together. That’s when the ugly head of idle chatter starts churning out rumors? Sebastian (Dustin Jose), Raffy’s older brother, isn’t amused. Are Raffy and Marco an item? The whole town seems to think so. What happens when Marco departs?

Saving a friend the second time around.

Director Paul Singh Cudail’s sophomore effort rambles with a good number of incipient narrative strains that are mostly left hanging once executed, making rudiments of stories that are never fully realized or completed. To name a few: the loss of Raffy’s piggy bank; Sebastian’s seeming interest for Joyce (Marco’s erstwhile childhood sweetheart); Sebastian’s gay lover (who’s migrating to the US). Cudail fills his narrative palette with so much unnecessary details leaving an inchoate story that’s disorganized, random and confused. In short, Cudail is too perplexed, he’s simply lost in his own gibberish (yup, he wrote the screenplay).

A lot of things don’t make sense. When Marco finally arrives, he was too lazy to seek his friend out, you’d have to surmise his indifference. Yes, he did ask Raffy’s brother to inform Marco, but he couldn’t even visit Raffy home when the latter fails to show up? He knew where he lives. What kept him from springing a surprise?

In the course of the story, the character of Joyce (Jenaira Chu, “Anton Tubero”) shows up. She’s supposedly Marco’s girl friend. Yet Marco wouldn’t even visit her. You’d wonder if Marco was suffering from a form of disability. Their relationship is tenuous since Marco’s Manila sojourn seemed to have rendered him incommunicado for 5 years or so. When Marco finally reunites with Joyce, she cries her crocodile tears; offers her brownish nipples, before proceeding to cry again, thereby brushing off further sexual activity. That's the gist of their coupling. But why was she crying? It didn’t even seem real. What’s clear to me is the fact that they weren’t able to pursue a relationship the whole time Marco was away – and 5 years is a long time to pine for someone who doesn’t even lift a finger to correspond! Even a married person could already legally file for abandonment. Is Masbate too remote for a phone signal? Too desolate for a mailman to deliver letters to? There are a million excuses when you don't want to, right? Maybe we’re back in the 60’s when SMS wasn’t even a figment of the imagination. Such recondite endeavor! LOL

Brothers Raffy (Johnron Tanada) and Sebastian (Dustin Jose).


Dustin Jose (as Sebastian) cries, Jeremy Ian (as Joey) enjoys the falls.

When tongues started wagging about Raffy and Marco’s relationship, Sebastian was livid! He roared at Raffy, as though the latter just ingested a semen-tinged coffee: “Bakla ka ba?” (Are you gay?) Why was he so aversed to the idea. But early in the film, a scene had Sebastian bidding a gay lover goodbye. Is this a case of the thief despising the other thief? He wanted to join his benefactor so much he even stole his brother’s piggy bank - and he kept it for the next five years! In another scene where Joyce once again sheds tears, he runs after her. In another, he gazes at the heart broken Joyce who, once again, exercises her lachrymal capability to the hilt. And when she cried, he did so too! What the heck is happening here? This is getting too ominous. Is he suddenly in love with Joyce? This wasn’t even an issue until Marco’s homecoming, was it? Sebastian never had a relationship with Joyce, but with a gay benefactor! What makes him think he can start one upon Marco's return? Pieces don't fit!

To fulfill the raison d’etre of the film, Cudail had to pepper his work with a whole dash of frontal nudity. He even employed two anonymous guys bathing together (time it: it's close to 2 minutes), soaping away their privates in wild abandon. They were so good at it you’d think there was grime and sludge that needed scruffing off their penises. The main question should be: Who the heck were they? They didn’t figure into the story at all. Cudail’s acute sense of storytelling just suffered a low bat mentality, is all.

A completely unrelated character named Joey (Jeremy Ian) was roped in to perform yet another full frontal bathing scene. More than once, you’re thrown into rabid disorientation because these were characters absolutely unrelated to the story at hand! Did I blink and miss a scene that ushered these unknown characters to the fore? Cudail, in his consummate ineptness couldn't even write anything in his script to make these bathing guys’ presence be of legible consequence to the story. Basta. They were there to soap away their peckers. Period. What’s even funnier is, Jeremy Ian (in a 3 minute bathing scene) had to take off his undersized briefs then use it as body sponge. Inspired, right? I was tempted to head home and donate my unused loofa for the poor guy. But then he might ignore me. He was so intent on cleaning himself, he was almost levitating while scrubbing.

You would think Cudail would learn a thing or two after “Sulot” (his directorial debut). Instead, he is so helpless he can’t even gouge out and maneuver a semblance of emotion from his borderline actors. In the scene where Sebastian’s gay benefactor was saying goodbye, Cudail assigns this poor guy with a two kilometer monologue: “Dadalhin kita sa America. Doon, tayo’y magsasama. Lahat gagawin ko kasi mahal kita. Hintayin mo lang ako babalikan kita.” If it felt like poetry, the delivery was even more so - sans any hint of emotion. With his face on cam, you’d notice his stiff and restless pauses as though there were lines he couldn’t read from an idiot board (how appropriate) pasted on the walls. Watching a toadstool grow flowers is probably a more gratifying option than watching this guy dig himself a hole. What’s curious is, he didn’t even need to say all those things because his character was so disposable. He’s gone after the scene and never to be seen again, thank heavens.

CRYING GAME

Johnron Tanada once again delivers a one-note performance that awkwardly verges on the woe-is-me school of acting. He mopes around like the biggest loser in all of Masbate, and he even weeps like a girl. This is probably not his entire fault, but this experience is a testament that unguided actors are ultimately brought down by a bad script, poor direction and absence of that salient ingredient called talent. Do you know how many times Tanada had to weep for his scenes? He’d outcry the girls in “Mara Clara” that’s for sure. Ditto Eugene Tejada. Even Dustin Jose had to weep twice, and Jenaira Chu in all but one scene! It’s a behemoth crying festival, and in not a single scene was I brought to tears. The emotions on show were as hollow and insubstantial as Kris Aquino’s crying scenes from last December’s “Dalaw”. Opps, sorry, I meant her frightened look which seemed like she’s about to cry. Her “scared look” had been haunting me for years now. I could swear I’d wake up in the middle of the night with a tiyanak suddenly mumbling, “What’s shu-lit, mama? What’s shik-shik, mama!” I am just petrified.

Eugene Tejada, in his very first movie after winning that Bikini Contest, needs lessons in elocution, delivery and emotional urgency. He spoke his lines like a 12 year old boy, about to be circumcised: “Bawiin mo ang sinabi mo. Mabibigo ka lang!” It was inexplicable. I expected better from him. He has a strong register on camera, but comes off with a tentative affect every time he opens his mouth. But there’s hope, I’m sure. This is just his first full length feature. Did he flash his perky wand? He did (though it wasn't so errr "perky"), in a peek-a-boo sideway scene shot behind the cracks on the wall. But don’t wink, you might miss his mushroom. LOL

Johnron Tanada

Spoilers

A 5-years later epilogue closes the story. Raffy and Marco are seen arriving in their barrio, fully decked in white. They’re now nurses joining a medical mission. This scenario allows them the closure the narrative requires. Raffy reunites with brother Sebastian - who looks exactly the same. In fact, he hasn’t removed his earing for half a decade, I was sure it had grown roots! How could Raffy end up as a nurse when it was never shown that he even finished elementary or high school? All he did in his earlier scenes was cut bamboo. Nothing else! Am I being asked again a “degree of imagination”? Even leaps of faith have to be deserved!

BURDEN OF THE STORY

The humdinger in Cudail’s “Kubli” (Hidden) really lies in how the structure of the story leads us to our protagonists’ burdens. Thing is, it felt like they weren’t even attracted with each other until the rumors eventually got to them. The suppositions were mere inventions of the idle mind, yet these suggestions were too vigorous, they’re left with no option but to believe them. "Ay, bakla pala kami" because the whole barrio said so! How else would you explicate the fact that Marco wasn’t even all that interested to see his old friend upon his arrival?

If you were harboring affection for someone you haven’t seen in five years, wouldn’t you even seek him out? Is it probably reticence? Or mere disinterest? But of course, Marco and Raffy had to be gullible. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be a second Paul Singh Cudail film which has so far shown his genius in other masterpieces like “Tiyo Pablo” and the soon released “Maligalig”. How can such dubious aptitude proliferate into more projects? Neil Tan (who has had a face-saving rechristening, he’s now a Vince Tan directing “Private Nights”) and Joven Tan come to mind. And there’s the king of mediocre, Crisaldo Pablo, a living proof that proudly defies the adage, “Experience is the best teacher.”

Fact is, “Moron Cinema” breeds like wild insects because there’s a market for them. This is the cinema that willingly foregoes reasonable narrative in exchange of penile showcases! There are plenty of patrons who love moronic clutter; it’s a simple equation really. People believe their own amour-propre even when it’s as clear as day that the only artistry they patronize is the artistry of seeing flashes of male genitalia. Now, there’s probably pleasure to be had in that, but let’s not deceive ourselves and say a film deserves a 5/5 rating simply because it had 5 guys generously flashing 5 genitalias. Then we rationalize in the most florid, sophisticated English the false virtues of these films (“Kape Barako”, “Tarima”, “Santuaryo”, “Pulupot”, “Bayaw”, “Quicktrip”, etc.) It’s like believing that the well loved Anne Curtis is a great singer because she owns a CD (“Annebisyosa”) that tops the best selling list! Let’s not be hypocrites and let’s call a spade a spade. If you are disinclined doing so, then allow others the freedom to do so.

Eugene Tejada


Dustin Jose


Jeremy Ian