Joel Lamangan's Menor de Edad - A Discordant Tragedy

At 15, Jenica (Meg Imperial) is a pallet of quandaries. She doesn’t do well in school where she doesn't have friends. Her boyfriend Jimboy (Arvic Rivero) is seeing another girl after she gets cold feet and turns away from a sexual dalliance. On the home front, Jen is constantly embarrassed by her mother Edna’s (Ara Mina) relationship with Jaggz (Jaycee Parker), a lesbian security guard, who lives with them. Bemo (Jim Pebanco), a bothersome neighbor, dogs her around while street thugs (Mico Aytona, et.al.) plague her with innuendos. Her anxieties push her way into a hiphopping girl gang called Sosy who empower themselves with a lot of attitude, vandalizing innocent civilians at every turn.  Ariel Basco (Wendell Ramos), Jen’s Pilipino teacher, provides succor in her miserable existence.

Meanwhile, Ariel is his school’s Most Outstanding Teacher. Students flock to him and his fellow teachers (Jef Gaitan) are drawn to his benevolent demeanor; this despite being relatively new in the institution. He even offers free tutorial sessions with students who need help – like Jenica! But Ariel skirts from a tenebrous past. In a previous school where he taught, he barely got off a sexual harassment case filed by a student. What’s worse, Ariel couldn't shake off his penchant for gambling. In fact, their household finances are a shamble, what with his wife Layda’s (Almira Muhlach) pregnancy and “illness”.

One day, Jen comes home distraught, claiming she was molested by her favorite teacher, Mr. Basco. Is Ariel’s past finally catching up with him?

Joel Lamangan’s “Menor de Edad” reeks with a heavy handed exposition and an exasperatingly obstreperous plotting. Like most of Lamangan’s ouvre, social ilks are brandished without heed for narrative restraint. What transpires is a story that feels inordinately overdone, you end up throwing away any form of empathy that the film builds early on. How do you relate to a miserable girl who rebuffs the sexual advances of a boy he loves, yet she throws herself to her sympathetic teacher? Then she accuses and takes to court the only soul who’s ever given attention and understanding?

Moreover, why would you commiserate with an individual like Ariel who throws away his salary to chance? He navigates the dark alleys of his neighborhood as though he isn't a respected high school teacher, comes home late to a sleeping wife, reports to class wrapped with tattoos and bruises? So much for building a character, right? While Wendell Ramos isn't a lamentable actor, his performance is as confused as his dubiously written character.

Jenica and boyfriend Jimboy

Meg Imperial, on the other hand, coasts on incongruous direction.  She never quite got the grasp of the material though she wasn’t awkward in it. The culprit could be the dated writing of Raquel Villavicencio whose treatment of her protagonist is that of an ungrateful daughter. You see, Jenica’s mother Edna was not the nagging kind; Jen was neither physically abused, and her lesbian “stepparent” seemed to care for her. Other than cloaked in the mediocrity of poverty, why all the worthless angst of a seemingly lost teener? She’s not the only one who hasn’t come to know of her biological father who, as events unraveled, was the sniveling, whimpering, spine-tingling, and more importantly, stalking neighbor Bemo, played by Jim Pebanco. Like most of his previous performances, Pebanco disgracefully depicts his character with stagey flourish. In all of Pebanco’s years in the business (he was in Bernal’s “Himala”, for crying out loud), he is yet to learn how to relax his thespic muscle (Cinemalaya Best Supporting Actor trophy not withstanding). Heavens help DJ Durano (wink wink) for we see a pattern in their situation!

The nail in the coffin for this messy tripe is a quasi-journalist named Nancy Molina, played by Chynna Ortaleza. Molina editorializes her report when they should be delivered objectively, making her segments contentious at best. Or do we have to lecture about journalism? She gropes for words, a dastardly performance for one whose supposed to be a veteran tele-journalist; kinda like a Ricky Lo without his netherworld accent. Take note that in more than three of Molina’s episodes, she only covers a single set of subjects, a charmless gang of publicity hungry girls called Sosy. Metro Manila, with its population of 12 million, is bereft of more interesting subjects that a journalist would linger on a single group of personality for one whole month? Go figure. Ortaleza desperately ought to practice her reportorial spiels to be decently believable.

In one scene, Reporter Molina sees Jenica with the Sosy Gang. “Bago siya?" She asked, yet two interviews ago, Jenica was already seen with the group. How can one journalist not notice this? They’re supposed to be a very observant lot! Or just maybe she probably suffers from Attention-Deficit Disorder? At any rate, this doesn't make her a competent media practitioner, does it? From out of the baffling blue, Molina quipped, “Iba na s’ya ano? Astig na!” Huh? Didn't she just say Jen was a newbie? Ano ba talaga, ate? Then like ray of sunshine, a bulb flickers and she suddenly associates Jen with the case of the revered high school teacher who allegedly sexually assaulted his student. How convenient.

Jaycee Parker & Chynna Ortaleza

There are more bewildering strains in this flick. Here’s a girl who got gang raped by her neighbors. What do we expect from her? Stay at home and recuperate from her genital abrasions and crushed self worth, right? She’s instead seen practicing her karate chops with the rest of the girls who looked like they haven’t seen the bathroom in, say, five-hundred-twenty-five-thousand-six-hundred minutes. A message of self empowerment? Go go go, feminists!

During the court proceedings, no one remembered that a medical report (i.e. an internal examination) of the victim is parcel to trying a rape case.

But – did you know that, if you were to follow Reporter Molina’s story, these fierce girls peddle their flesh for cash? What then do we have here? Tough teenage street urchins who immerse in gang wars – and prostitution? Huh? If you've never used “incoherence” and “incongruence” in a sentence before, this is the golden moment for that. Otherwise, you might as well go home, plant camote, grow letsugas in your backyard, braid your labandera’s hair, decapitate a spider; grow bed bugs in your lolo's bed, anything but watch this horrifying tripe. Sanity alert!

Meg Imperial plays Jenica. She'd rather take the only person who has shown her respect, mercy and understanding to prison than get the bedeviled thugs who actually raped her. Now, children, let's do this in unison: "Why?"

Wendell Ramos plays award-winning teacher Ariel Basco. This exemplary person also gambles until he's blue. Err I mean "red"?.  ;->

Wedding Tayo, Wedding Hindi - Left Over Ideas and Annoying Turns

There are two dissonant stories in Jose Javier Reyes’ “Wedding Tayo, Wedding Hindi”. But we feel that the film was originally meant to focus on one. Then Eugene Domingo became too big to take on menial side stories, thus the project evolved into two equal parts.

When Music teacher Maribel (Toni Gonzaga) finds greener pastures in Japan, her co-teacher Oca (Zanjoe Marudo) suddenly proposes: “Pakakasalan kita pagbalik mo.” And three years isn’t that long a wait. The catch is, Maribel and Oca weren’t even a couple to begin with. Meanwhile, Belay’s cousin Precy (Eugene Domingo) has had it with husband Benito (Wendell Ramos) when the latter fails to recover P250,000 from a business deal gone sour. The money was Precy’s savings meant to finance their very own house and lot. Moreover, she didn’t even know he took it.

Three years later, the meek and unassuming Belay comes home a changed woman. She is loud, impulsive and uncouth; she wears sparse garments and streaks her hair. Oca, on the other hand, remains reserved and indulgent. Bel is expectedly thrilled and raring for the pre-nuptial jitter.

But Maribel and Oca’s road to matrimony hits a snag when their parents don’t agree on a sundry of details: She wants a Boracay wedding; he can’t afford it (he’s an ignoble Social Studies teacher); she insists on purple as motif, but her mother-in-law finds it tacky. He wants a cousin as ring bearer; she prefers a different boy! The list of disagreements piles up like a bomb waiting to explode. And when it does, Bel is slapped with a rude realization that Oca’s proposal could have been a knee jerk proposal offered out of haste than affection. What’s a girl to do?

Precy, on the other hand, walks out of her family. She wants an annulment and his sincere apology. But egos are soaring high. Benito pleads for her return saying he’s forgiven Precy, all the while failing to own up to his mistakes. So Precy keeps her resolve, but barely so. Her hubby’s a hunky catch and his allure provides too much of a temptation for the homely wife. Will she eventually take him back?

Once again, Eugene Domingo displays the enviable antithesis of comedic flourish and thespic restraint that has made her an unseemly Philippine Sweetheart, appearing in half a dozen TV shows from 3 warring stations; fielding blockbuster flicks one after the next. Her hole-plugging role becomes a more engaging, better threshed out performance when we expected another variety of “Mamarazzi”. As the months lay on, Domingo becomes a living testament that talent alone can summon success. You don’t need youth, beauty or a well-oiled machinery to make it big.

If you’ve been watching Toni Gonzaga’s spiels in the Sunday gossip show, “The Buzz”, you would agree with me that she has been such a delight. She has developed an affectation that’s gratifyingly felicitous as she faces her guests or when she delivers cheerful quips as she opinionates. This particular boobtube persona is being taken on screen, personified in Toni’s Japayuki Bel. Would this translate satisfactorily on celluloid?

Unfortunately, it was a failed experiment. Toni inconsistently vacillates, if a tad too annoyingly, in her characterization. Her performance straddles between demonic possession and constipation. Yes, we know that living in Japan has toughened her up, but did she really have to be that loud and eccentric? Has she transmogrified into a transvestite or evolved into a sexy Martian? She desperately wanted to offset Domingo’s scene-stealing knack as though amplifying her voice was the ticket to succeed in this endeavor. She was schizopheric at best. This development disappoints because we see her as the ultimate romantic-comedy heroine of this generation.

As for Zanjoe Marudo, he could have nailed his Oca had it not been for that scene where he enlists the intercession of Precy at a restaurant. We’ve always found him a comfortable actor: as besotted Caloy in Cathy Garcia-Molina’s “You Got Me!” (also with Toni Gonzaga); as former boxer Anton in Rico Maria Ilorde’s spine-tingling indie,“Altar”. But when tasked to deliver a dramatically emphatic spiel opposite Domingo, he seizures like fish out of water. It was an awkward moment that highlighted Marudo’s weakness – truly among the year’s worst performances.

Wendell Ramos delivers a winsome turn as lazy, albeit attractive husband Benito. Wendy Valdez, Regine Angeles, Teddy Corpuz, Miriam Quiambao, and Ramon Christopher provide short but adorable supporting performances, while Irma Adlawan (playing Zanjoe’s mother) fails to believably capture the frustrations of a mother who’s not quite pleased with her son’s choice for a wife. Adlawan mostly frets and appear stolid, a thoroughly guileless interpretation of her character, while Odette Khan (as Wendell’s mother) joyfully cavorts into her spiteful character with such unabashed glee. Adlawan should take pointers from Ms. Khan.

“Wedding Tayo, Wedding Hindi” represents the leftover ideas that didn’t quite make it in the final cuts of Jose Javier Reyes’ successful “Kasal, Kasali, Kasalo” and its sequel “Sakal, Sakali, Saklolo”. Way until the rolling of credits, we were waiting for the rousing cinematic payoff that made wedding romcoms mostly irresistible, but this one failed to deliver. It ended as blandly as its mediocre script. Reyes’ creative juices suffer from having to deal with discordant stories and forcibly piecing them together into an uneven fit. Domingo’s character could have provided the foil to subvert the trite comic formula, but her story only highlighted the sheer disparity of the stories.

Ultimately, it was one narrative that went to town wearing a pair of dissimilar shoes. And Toni Gonzaga limped all the way through.

Winsome, loathesome...

Perhaps a bad performance wouldn't matter in the long run because the theater had an impressive crowd when I watched. To some, making dough is the sole essence of the film making business. It is an enterprise after all. And Toni Gonzaga has proven her mettle as a reliable crowd drawer. A better project next time, Toni?

Zanjoe Marudo: from modelling to acting.

Wendell Ramos: Delightful as a cad.