Mark Meily's "ABNKKBSNPLAko?! The Movie" - Plotless Nostalgia

Bob Ong is a lot of things, except a popular Filipino author's real name. He is a teacher, a web developer and an author of contemporary books that mostly tackle Pinoy pop culture. He fetchingly writes in a very conversational tone that when you get hold of any of his books, you're likely to finish it right where you started flipping its pages. "Bob Ong" is in fact a pseudonym that derived itself from a word play of a website he developed, "Bobong Pinoy" (Dumb Filipino). "Bobong..." eventually evolved into an author's name. "Bob... ong..."

So let's call him Mr. Ong whose writing style is laidback and fancy-free you might as well be leisurely reading a book in a park. Ong's topics are mostly observational. He takes to list-making, and does so with delectable humor. In "Bakit Baliktad Magbasa ng Libro ang mga Pinoy", for example, he lists down tips on how to gracefully say goodbye to the world. In another, he offers a checklist that satisfies a criteria on being a compulsive gambler. Yet again, in another, he enumerates items on how to make your jeepney 100% Pinoy. In "Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas", sassily designed in obsidian hue, he offers his insight on "terrorist teachers". He also examines the veracity of commercial products, i.e. "pampatigas", "pampaputi ng kutis", etc. He lists down two to three pages of odd terminologies of the different kinds of phobias. His language comfortably vacillates between Tagalog and English as when he writes about an American visitor's take on Pinoy culture. In "Lumayo Ka Nga Sa Akin", he welcomes his readers to a 3D movie, thus what you get to read is a movie script. Perfect really when the same book is being groomed into another Wenn Deramas film starring Maricel Soriano, right?

More importantly, Ong does not believe that his novels are "translatable" to film language the way author Yan Martell ("Life of Pi") didn't think his novel was "filmable" until Ang Lee came into the picture. Then there was Ramon Bautista's "Bakit Hindi Ka Crush ng Crush Mo?" which fortuitously did the impossible, under the able hands of the zany Joyce Bernal. How did they convince Ong to agree? "In Mark Meily we trust" was Viva film executives' reassurance to the author whom they never met; not even when they handed him his cheque as payment for the film's rights. But is director Mark Meily really as capable as you'd like to think? Meily may have "Crying Ladies", "Donor" and "La Visa Loca" under his over-sized belt, but he also has the school playish "Baler" (with Anne Curtis before she was capable of buying me, my friends and a whole bar).

Jericho Rosales is Roberto Ong.

The film chronicles Roberto’s (Jericho Rosales) 17 years as a student, and the growing up he’s had to do with a bevy of characters: his nurturing Nanay Lucing (Bing Pimentel) and his absentee father (Julio Diaz) who’s a seaman; his two closest friends Ulo (Vandolph Quizon) and Portia (Meg Imperial) who harbors a crush on him; and his Special Someone (Andi Eigenmann) who’s eternally unavailable.

In the story, Roberto struggles in class, barely completing his academic goals, but eventually succeeding, and even becoming a teacher in the process. The stories flip through a timeline  peppered with issues familiar to a generation: prom dates, peer pressure, school crushes, pimples, passing fads, tech gadgets – in this case, Nokia’s 3310 (a familiar object in Ong’s novels); anonymous letters and unrequited loves; and a nostalgia-coated soundtrack that exquisitely captures the temperament of the 80’s (Sharon Cuneta’s “High School”, Martin Nievera’s “On the Right Track”, Odette Quesada’s “Friend of Mine”, etc.) and 90’s (Neocolour’s “Tuloy Pa Rin”). This further stretches on as he applies for college (UE, PUP, CEU, PLM, Lyceum) in a range of courses from marketing to computer science, and settling down with a vocational course in computer programming (which makes you wonder how Roberto eventually became a teacher).

If you’re one taken to nostalgia, there should be plenty to amuse you here. After all, this has Jericho Rosales, one of the most competent actors of his generation. Unfortunately, there’s an obvious degree of disconnect that repudiates the viewer’s commitment to the running narrative. This is mainly because the film is almost plotless; it was like watching a compendium of supposedly hilarious or wistful remembrances. With hardly any tension to hold the narrative aground, it was hard to invest a degree of empathy. I was personally unaffected and uninterested. The story in fact failed to relate or compel. The gags didn't pick up as they should. It was like riding a Ferris Wheel or roller coaster without the requisite ascents and dips or that breath-taking swirl.

Jericho Rosales is no doubt an insightful actor but at some point we had to suspend disbelief with all our might just to swallow the idea that Rosales was still in high school and that he’s within the same age range as Meg Imperial or Andi Eigenmann. While I understand the deterrent of picking an actor who could both play the shy high school student and the grown up teacher, this isn't really a valid excuse to just settle for the good actor who could pull out the magic tricks. Roles don’t just rely on thespic brilliance alone, but physical requirements as well. You just don’t pick Meryl Streep to play Wonder Woman or Nicholas Cage to play Superman just because they’re terrific actors. They have to look the part.

Should the movie watching crowd really be compelled to read the novel from which a film was based just so they’d “get it”? Absolutely not! A story, regardless of its source, should stand alone when adapted on film. They have to be adequately told in film language. Saying that reading a novel is a requirement to “understand” the film is really a vacuous disclaimer of a doubtful film maker. Saying so is a lazy excuse to what he unconsciously perceives as his film’s weaknesses.

As it turns out, we should not invest our infinite trust on Mark Meily. Not in street smart stories reeking with contemporary humor, at least. Despite his achievements, Meily doesn't have the sleek directorial raillery required to adapt Ong’s seminal ouvre, but then even Ong seems to have anticipated this. On its way to the celluloid, the director loses the essence and vibrant spirit of Ong's colorful coming-of-age. Meily could have benefited if he took tips from Joyce Bernal’s “Bakit Hindi Ka Crush ng Crush Mo”. The temperament, the magazine-style employ of storytelling, the brisk and finger-snapping pace – these were elements that helped translate an unfilmable novel. But in Meily’s cinematic platter, Ong’s characters were nothing but droll people whose stories didn't deserve to be told. Meily just isn't as brilliant as others think he is.

Tender moment with mother and son (above); Teacher Giselle Sanchez "all-stretched out". The wonders of elasticity indeed. ;)

Andi Eigenmann plays the elusive "Special Someone".

Vandolph Quizon, Meg Imperial, Andi Eigenmann and Jericho Rosales

Jericho Rosales: Waiting to exhale.

Andi Eigenmann

Meg Imperial

Nuel Naval's A Secret Affair - The Land of the Despicable

Despicable creatures. That was running through my mind as I watched Nuel Nunez’s “A Secret Affair”. In fact there was not a single character in this theatrical ouvre that I’d wanna be associated with in my life if they were live specimen. I’d rather march to the Zambian capital of Lukasa and live a life of seclusion until I’m fat and ugly and my Louboutins don’t fit me anymore – than have family and friends like the caricatures of “A Secret Affair’.

There’s Rafi (Anne Curtis) who accepts a marriage proposal barely two months after she met Anton (Derek Ramsay). Like rabbits in heat, they decide to wed faster than Lilia Cuntapay could spell “baccalaureate” or “bourgeoisie”. Yes, faster than Cristine Reyes’ ability to sustain familial loyalty to siblings who fed her until she’s big enough to earn her own keep. Unfortunately for the bemuscled Anton, Rafi gets cold feet on the day she traipses down the aisle. She’d rather fly to New York for an indefinite holiday – and by indefinite, it meant a couple of weeks of vacuous soul searching. Does she really want to spend her nights counting the abdominals in Anton’s torso for the rest of her life? Would she survive Anton’s pelvic grunts and forceful deltoid and tricepsual embraces? Could she stomach Anton’s passionate gaze for the remainder of her sad, sad life? The answers seem clear.

Rafi comes home to woo her erstwhile beau who’s so heartbroken, the only way to mend his grief was to shag the living daylights out of Sam (Andi Eigenmann), one of Rafi’s sorority sisters, who’s desperate for a horned-out father figure with 8-pack abs to boot. This wouldn’t be their sole concupiscent rendezvous. As anonymous strangers, they’ve actually done the dastardly deed even before Anton met Rafi. This time around, Sam decides to stake her claim to the Eurasian bratwurst. After all, she had him first. Besides, this bratwurst drips with juicy smoulder she couldn’t get enough of. Albie Casino should probably hide under the table beside Anton’s considerable inches, right? Oohlala.

At this point, the story moves into Boy Pick-Up territory; alas, with the kitchiest, sassiest, campiest one-liners this side of Gaylandia. Everyone tries to outdo the next queen. How kitschy? Well, for starters, there’s Tim Yap whose presence distracts like a fish bone stuck between your dentures. Tim Yap, you see, can’t act to save his life. What’s funnier, he’s awkwardly depicting himself. I’m actually tickled pink to see someone who’s so bewildered and clueless how to portray himself. Such hilarity.

The cinematic plate is replete with Imeldific beauty: flowing or serpentine gowns, designer handbags, sexy stiletto heels, immaculately coiffed hair; you cannot deny the stark beauty lavishly paraded before you. You somehow wonder if this was originally envisioned like a shopping catalogue with the narrative taking the back seat. Unfortunately, without valid characters, such elements make a dubious film.

“A Secret Affair” brims with caricatures, none of them deserving our empathy. Rafi, for example, the main protagonist, sashays around with chock-full of verve and confidence yet she's such an air-head she can’t make up her mind about commitments. She’s the kid who’s taken to the candy shop. After almost an hour of roaming the shop, she queues at the counter and ends up changing her mind – again! She has the emotional appropriation of a 2 year old. It doesn't help that Anne Curtis, one of the most ridiculous Best Actress winners from an equally ridiculous awards-giving Famas, is turning out emotionally barren. The scene where she spews: “I’m okay; I’m okay. I’m not okay” is more than telling. She could have made the emotive leap, but ends up with a parched, albeit perfunctory smattering. Curtis is in dire need of gravitas, and it doesn't help that she trades her verbal tussles against the immensely intuitive Andi Eigenmann.

And isn't it ironic that it’s the cinematic oppugnant who gets our sympathy? Eigenmann personifies her dilemma with clarity and unusual depth. Her scene with Jackie Lou Blanco (playing mother Cate) is particularly compelling: “Mom, what's wrong with us? Why do men always leave us? Mahirap ba tayong mahalin?” And she asks why the women in their family always end up losers. Her restraint is reminiscent of the much younger Jaclyn Jose who, these days, succumb to Machiavellian thespic ploys. All of Jose’s artistic bravura has been bequeathed to her brilliant daughter, leaving her with nothing but glowering and contriving character delineations. “Alam mo saan masarap magkape? Sa burol mo!” “Shut up. Bitch ka lang. Super bitch ako”. Lines like these are likely to arise from parloristas actively engaged in a catfight, not the upper middle class denizens who populate this film.

Finally, there’s Derek Ramsay playing Anton whose emotional sagacity flies out the door whenever a prepubescent Lolita offers her coochie snorcher. Ramsay works hard. In fact, he still smolders – while the testosterone charm drips over. He punctuates his delivery with decibel adjustments. When he pleads for understanding, his delivery turns almost inaudible, the words get lost in his discerning dispatch. But all these feel hollow. Conveying emotion does not rest on the volume of your delivery. You have to become the character. Derek's 8-pack is more coercive than any of the lines he delivered. You could probably squeeze emotions out of a rock than from Derek whose vacuity lords over his artistic savvy – or lack thereof. Isn't it too bad that Angelica Panganiban wasn't able to imbue her hefty artistic wisdom before they parted ways? They could have polished the “Being” exercises in the privacy of their bedrooms. Tsk tsk! Those missed opportunities! You don’t wonder why TV5 opted to hide Ramsay’s face under a mask in his new series, “Kidlat”!     

And those lines: “Betrayal and infidelity in secret is still betrayal and infidelity." Huh? Ano daw?

Sam listens to Anton and Rafi.

Sam barges inside a spa to "service" Anton.

A call surprises Rafi.

Like licking chocolate-coated lollipop...

Ellen and daughter Rafi

Anton smolders in his seat.

Andi Eigenmann captures her emotional predicament even without saying much.

Jackie Lou Blanco, as Cate, was never this bad!

Catfight starts.

The super bitch makes her move. This same tack (of pouring a bottle of liquid) is repeated when  Rafi faces Sam. this time, with a calamine lotion. Very original, debah?

Derek Ramsay smolders like... an igneous rock?

Rico Maria Ilarde's Pridyider - Malevolent Souls

Uncertainty cloaks Christina Benitez’s (Andi Eigenmann) homecoming. It’s been 20 years since she last set foot on the home she once shared with her parents (Joel Torre and Janice de Belen) before the gruesome events that eventually overtook the household. She had since been taken by her aunt (Lui Manansala) to San Francisco where she was raised - beautiful (she is plagued by talent manager Dick – played by Baron Geisler), talented (she finished culinary and is cooking up dishes for a restaurant she plans to open in the Philippines) and conflicted about the fragmentary, albeit sketchy anecdotes she keeps getting about the demise of her mother – and the disappearance of her father. “Bakit nila ako iniwan?” she naggingly asks herself. But she gets no answers.

Home turns out to be a dilapidated house in a desolate fogbound subdivision on the throes of commercial development. Dust has settled long ago as it has been deserted in years. Lights flicker irregularly and a silhouette seemingly hovers around the dark corners. She arrives to an empty abode filled with fading photographs and clunking appliances that have seen better days. Among these is a giant refrigerator – ang “pridyider”.

Tina stays by herself, mostly immersed in experimental dishes. But at midnight, she discerns a presence, and tumbling sounds that bump in the night. And she is made acutely aware of the historical conundrum that inundates her past. She has to know more about her parents. She needs to know what happened to them. Was mother the crazy woman she keeps hearing about? Where was her father? If he were dead, why didn’t they find his body?

The unpalatable answers unravel gradually. Her father was an amorous man who sought the affection of other women while her mother was constantly enveloped by jealous rage. Her love for her husband so consumed her that he made a pact with the devil to summon his affection. She was to perform a ritual involving body parts of all the women he’s had affairs with, capped by the blood of her husband. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to complete the ritual. To avoid getting caught by the police authorities, she hid inside the refrigerator – and died! Since then, the mother’s sinister spirit has possessed the refrigerator. She habitates the household.

To face her dilemma, Tina enlists the help of nosy neighbor Celine (Venus Raj) and her girl Friday Agatha (Bekimon); her childhood friend James (JM de Guzman); a petrified priest, an albularyo and a creepy anophthalmic former investigator, Detective Albay (Ronnie Lazaro) who has lived the life of a recluse after dropping the unsolved case.    

As Ilarde’s story is seamlessly told, the cast renders an engrossing performance all around. Andi Eigenmann limns her character with emotive panache. Her thespic control is remarkably fine tuned, and this is nothing short of admirable. There are no excesses there. Acting prowess must really be genetic. JM de Guzman, stripped of the need to sentimentalize his scenes, is adorable and enjoys great screen chemistry with Eigenmann, which is quite unexpected. Ronnie Lazaro recreates his Inspector Albay with indecipherable stroke reminiscent of his character in Richard Somes’ “Ishmael”. Even Venus Raj is interesting as she is quirky. Joel Torre, one of this year’s busiest actors, is likewise engaging. But it’s really Janice de Belen who runs away with her sinister presence. Malevolent and doomful, De Belen reminds me of Carmina Villaroel’s creepy turn in Yam Laranas’ “The Road”.  Seeing her stand frozen with chopping knife makes you wanna hide in some cave in the far reaches of Vanuatu!   

“Pridyider” pays homage to the original “Shake, Rattle and Roll” (1984). In the original film, Ishmael Bernal directed Janice de Belen for the trilogy’s 2^nd episode with similar title.  In the current version, De Belen’s iconic scene (she opens the ref’s door and thrusts her sweaty body deeper into the refrigerator) is reenacted by Eigenmann. Though the story is different, the narrative arc is similarly engaging.

The cinematic elements work well: the setting renders a spooky atmosphere; Teresa Barrozo’s music eerily lingers unobtrusively; Mackie Galvez’s cinematography sparkles with clarity even in dimly lit scenes; the CG effects are more than commendable as well. In fact, those tentacle-like monsters move with visceral feel. They don’t look artificial. Baron Geisler’s scene (he was being devoured by the ref) was particularly eye-catching. Ilarde and Onay Sales’ script avoids the unnecessary excesses customary in ardent horror flicks. All these result to a coherent story that moves with due pacing.

There are minor cracks in the story that could have been secured and adjusted: if Tina’s father really cared for his daughter, what kept him from making correspondence with Tina? Surely, a snail mail with an explanation could have prevented Tina from eternally wondering why she was “abandoned”. In this age of new technologies, there’s really no logical explanation for staying away from a loved one unless 1) you’re dead; 2) you were swallowed by a Black Hole; 3) you’re all lip service and the truth is, you just didn’t care enough. Twenty years is a long time to be away.

The scene at the hidden basement (or was it a “cave”) was reminiscent of a scene in Katie Holmes’ “Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark”. With victims’ heads indiscriminately appended on walls, Ilarde fabricates a gruesome world of the restless undead. This disturbs more than many other horror scenes from the recent past.

“Pridyider” could have floundered in high camp. Venus Raj’s humorous turn is akin to this temperament, but her character was beautifully moderated that her presence didn’t feel importunate to the plot. Otherwise, it could have provided a “major major” debacle. More importantly, Raj provided some welcome quirkiness to an otherwise sedate predisposition. Every aspect of “Pridyider” is well tempered making it one of the year’s most engrossing horror ride.

James fixes Tina's electricity woes.

Inspector Albay aka Ronnie Lazaro aka "Ishmael."

Making pact with the devil - and more.

Tentacled monster and Alfred the cat.

Attack of the hungry refrigerator.

Now what do you call this?

Daughter and father scream for help.

Creepy mama is fueled by her jealousy.

Victims at the basement.

Albularyo fights with the evil spirit.

Andi Eigenmann (above and below)

JM de Guzman (above and below) as James. He manages an electrical shop.

Venus Raj as nosy neighbor Celine

Baron Geisler is Dick., a Hollywood agent. He's attracted to Tina. 

Mamarazzi - When Laughter is But A Dismissive Flatus

Prior to a hysterectomy (an operation that removes a diseased uterus) due to a tumor, Violeta Langit (Eugene Domingo) wants to bear a child. But being a hopeless virgin, finding the willing sperm donor becomes an impossible task. Her best friend, barangay captain Mandy (John Lapus) – who’s as gay as every Liza Minelli impersonator – consents to sleep with her. But the deal proved too ghastly to consummate. So, Mandy offers his boytoy forward – the eternally cash-strapped Carlo (played by delectable Diether Ocampo) for the baby-making job. But Carlo instead flies off with a chunk of Violy’s fortunes.

Sixteen years later, Violy is enjoying a thriving business as an encoffineer a la Yojiro Takita’s “Departure” – she prepares deceased people for burial by making them look “beautiful”. Violy is now mother to triplets: Peachy and Strawberry (both played by Andi Eigenmann) and Dingdong (played by AJ Perez). Trouble appears when the children insist on knowing their father's identity! And much like fabricated fantasies, Carlo miraculously returns for his belated apologies, and to correct his past grievances.

As a matter of spicing up the broth, we have side stories about the impossibly effete Mandy fathering a child Greg (Aaron Villaflor) from one night of drunken indiscretion (with Sheree); Andi Eigenmann doing an “Agua Bendita” with the hammy Carl Guevarra; the handsome and belligerent AJ Perez carrying a torch for Carla Abellana (as the aspiring actress Mimi).

"Mamarazzi" is a busy film with too much irrelevant narrative strains, and characters – like Greg and Oscar’s (Aaron Villaflor and Xian Lim) closeted, budding love affair. But then what do we expect from a Joel Lamangan comedy?

Director Lamangan can’t muster anything but tawdry, tasteless caricatures to delineate gay characters outside of his political dramas, and though he may think of them as homage to the 3^rd kind, Lamangan actually does a disservice to the pink community by painting them less human; depicting them as oddball characters. Mere laughing stock! In Lamangan comedies, gay people are reduced to eccentric oddities of society. For someone who’s actually gay like Lamangan, this underscores the extent of his directorial insight – a vision as hollow as a fortune teller’s “bolang kristal”.

Eugene Domingo makes the most of her scenes, but something in the script feels tired. She has always been a reliable comic actress, and her verbal tussle with John Lapus is on perfect show in “Mamarazzi”. We weren't pleased with Lapus in “Here Comes the Bride” but he does a lot better here where he isn’t tasked to portray a straight horny geriatric (which was excruciating to watch). When Lapus and Domingo share the screen, they lighten up the otherwise banal scenes, conjured from the resplendent imagination of (hold your breath) Ricky Lee!

Some punch lines were too tacky, even from Ms. Domingo’s gargantuan talent: “Gusto mo ng kadugo, tawagan ko si Rosa Rosal!” - or - “Puro punebre ang cassette ko sa bahay.” – or “Habang may patay, may pag-asa.” Even her Nora Aunor impersonation (when she finds a returning Diether) were gratingly gag-inducing.

When Diether asks John Lapus for money, the latter replies, “Ano bang tingin mo sa akin, dyowa or ATM?” Diether shots back with, “Di ba pwedeng pagsabayin?” Humirit pa.

When Diether excuses himself for the toilet in mid-foreplay, the latter quips, “Nakakaihi talaga ang beauty ko.”

While conversing with Lapus at a restaurant, she places her order to a waiter, “Ako coffee, s’ya mouthwash!” You see, some of these gags are too hackneyed to be appreciated.

Finally, something has to be said about Carl Guevarra’s horrible performance here. Though it’s doubtful anyone would complain about his screen presence, his vocal delivery belies any promise of an acting future. It isn’t too expensive to enroll him at a speech and elocution class, is it? He needs to modulate his voice and summon an assertive delivery, as he comes off like a 9 year old girl! He was supposed to play the part of a brainy paramour to Andi Eigenmann’s encyclopedic countenance. He was made to spout scientific names of stuff, like roses - down to their taxonomic nomenclature, but he couldn’t even mouth the words coherently. It was painful to watch him. Joel Lamangan, being a seasoned director, was supposed to remedy such explicit inadequacy, but he didn’t. Was he blind? Deaf? Or just plain dense?

“Mamarazzi” educates us on how talented comediennes gradually succumb to mediocrity.

Andi Eigenmann and Carla Abellana

Aaron Villaflor and Xian Lim as the young gay lovers.

Elocute and modulate, Carl!

Carl Guevarra - Better seen than heard!

JC Tiuseco - the perfect kanto boy

And what's with that Globe G-Cash commercial, Ms. Domingo: Shame on you for peddling a TV commercial within a movie! I just spit on artists who abuse the privilege of gracing the silver screen by peddling TV commercials in a movie where people pay hard earned money! Cheap huh!

Mahiya naman kayo! Or are local actors too kapal mukha to understand that the cinema is not a venue to endorse products? Do your own peddling on your television shows where people don't pay anything! Not in a movie where people fork out their hard earned P150 - 180 for a relaxing time at the movies!

Here is a comment from a certain "Zare" on the Hating Kapatid review at Clickthecity.com: (July 21, 2010)

"Sarah Geronimo, the ultimate pawnshop camwhore! i still remember how funny it was when it was done well in Wayne's World... Doesn't work here though. It is horrible. What a cheap way to mock movie audiences. Didnt also like the part where they came dangerously close to making fun of the pain of a poor bereaved family at a funeral. It had intention, but to me it was tasteless..."

http://www.clickthecity.com/movies/?p=8454#disqus_thread

Who farted?