Tony Y. Reyes' "My Illegal Wife" - Humor Challenged Borrowings

After getting booted out of a job in Japan, 39 year-old Clarisse Sabaldica (Pokwang) comes home with a resolve to find her children a “father”, someone they can depend on. As fate would have it, she serendipitously meets Henry James Acuesta (Zanjoe Marudo) on her flight back to the Philippines. It's love at first sight. Unfortunately, her attraction is not reciprocated. But when their plane crashes, they find themselves marooned on an island. What’s worse, Henry suffers from amnesia. It's the opportunity opening up for her fervent wish.

Clarisse then concocts a plan to convince the poor guy that they are a married couple. “Pinatulan kita?” asks a baffled Henry. So goes the start of their blissful lives. Unknown to Clarisse, Henry is a “gold mule”. Several pieces of gold have been incredulously planted in his abdominal viscera prior to the plane crash (as though this was even medically possible). As if that wasn't enough, Henry is actually in a relationship with struggling jeweller Clarize (Ellen Adarna) who plotted the stygian operation. And the latter is desperate to find her missing beau. 

Back on the home front, Henry is starting to enjoy the attention he’s getting in Clarisse's household. The couple is, in fact, planning their church wedding with the help of their zany circle of friends (Beauty Gonzales, Pooh, Empoy Marquez, Edgar Allan Guzman). But sinister Clarize - "with a Z" - is closing in on them.

What happens if Henry regains his memory? Will Clarisse’s annoyingly cloying son Liam (John Steven de Guzman) lose a father figure? Will Clarisse forfeit her chance to have a complete family? Guess.

Tony Y. Reyes’ “My Illegal Wife” predicates solely on borrowed narrative snippets culled from Star Cinema’s array of blockbuster romcoms and the hit Angel Locsin teleserye, not to mention Kathniel's "Got2Believe": “It Takes a Man and a Woman”, “She’s the One”, “Bakit Di Ka Crush ng Crush Mo”, “Bride for Rent”, “Starting Over Again”, and that commercial-riddled vomitus called “Maybe This Time”. Its derivative content makes movie viewing utterly predictable and an unnecessarily gargantuan snooze . I felt like playing “sipa” or “tumbang preso” inside the cinema. I wanted to be anywhere but there. 

Even the supporting characters feel manufactured. Let’s take Empoy Marquez’s fractured and specious use of English words. Hasn't he done this similar ruse in a couple of romcoms in the recent past? If you had a fourth of a brain, you’d get exasperated by Marquez’s ludicrous shenanigan. "I smell something specie?" Duh. Too much of something is, well, “too much” – so we wanted to flush this charmless dingbat in a toilet bowl. Get rid of this abomination already. Beauty Gonzales’ briskly disappearing pout (supposedly born out of her rabidly kissing lover) is present in one scene and gone the next. She even felt the need to reference Wella, her character in “Starting Over Again”, as though people would find it amusing. I didn't. Wella’s two minutes of fame has rightfully passed so puh-lezzz bury her now!

There are several lines that make fun of physical attributes: "Ang isa, mukhang itik." In another scene, it becomes "Ang mga kaibigan niyang mukhang nalubog sa putik." "Janitor fish!" This is a hallmark of old school humor; the lazy variety that comedians/humorists of low-tier capability employ very often. And what's with the side story involving Jimmy Santos? Wasn't it one of the most painful movie moments you've ever watched in your life? Santos' idea of heightening emotions is his annoying sudden shouts. He would follow this up with grievous dramatic caterwauling. You'd think this old man had schizophrenia instead of Alzheimer's Disease. Santos apparently can't act to save his life. Yes, "Bang Bang Alley" was a fluke. But then Santos is being directed by Reyes; someone who's as clueless with on-cam emotions as he is in telling stories. 

Joy Viado’s cookie character is likewise troublesome. “Ba’t mo in-Indian si Liam, hindi ka naman Indian?” That was a joke? Seriously? Who laughed? And the clincher was...? Tony Reyes’ idea of humor is so 80’s that he could be responsible why Vic Sotto’s filmography is worth nothing but crap. “Pak! Pak! My Doktor Kwak?” “Lastikman?” “Fantastic Man?” “Iputok Mo, Dadapa Ako (Hard to Die)?” “Kabayo Kids?” Enumerating these titles even feels like an ominous predicament, a prostitution of sobriety and common sense.

Pokwang doesn't really take on a character. The movie runs with a succession of parody that doesn't quite synthesize into a singular coherent narrative. It's a feast of paper-thin caricatures. Pokwang is, of course, comfortable "being herself" but the film medium is a make-believe world and she isn't making believe. She's doing a protracted stand-up comedy show. Her impression of Nora Aunor elicited laughter ("Meron ba akong hindi alam, asawa ko?"). Zanjoe’s impression of Xian Lim, Daniel Padilla and Enrique Gil bear no semblance to the aforementioned gents so you end up with a headache trying to connect his so-called "joke". It was so flat I heard the wind from the east on its way to Ecuador. Zanjoe’s “Pinatulan kita,” was funny though. Joy Viado’s flirting with men was cringe-worthy. Zanjoe’s “I need an acceptable explanation” likewise flatlined and went to heaven. You see, everything about the film is a “hit-and-miss” affair; but they're mostly “misses”.

After Sarah Geronimo and Coco Martin’s recent disaster, Pokwang and Zanjoe Marudo follow awkwardly like another blundering pair, you’d never believe in a hundred million light years that something will romantically curdle between these two disparate souls. That Marudo and Pokwang are hailed as the “King and Queen of Skylight Films”, respectively, is pure gas. It is a slice of dishonor, if you ask me. Skylight Films, Star Cinema's alter-ego, has been churning out one mediocre film after another, with the exception of Veronica Velasco's “Tuhog”. This purveyor of second-rate mainstream fare is giving Star Cinema a bad rep.

A glimmer of hope in this gloriously wasteful effort is Ellen Adarna. She initially comes off irresolute, no thanks to vapid, albeit one-dimensional character development, but she eventually catches up, playfully pursuing the sinister-but-occasionally-funny vixen. When she contorts her face, you knew she was going to be a fumbling menace. And oh God, what a beautiful menace she is. If her character’s a bit unhinged or incoherent, it’s the brilliant writers’ undoing.

In one scene, she yells, “Sino ba ang babaeng yan?” How can she not know? Her henchmen had been spying on Pokwang’s Clarisse for some time to get to Zanjoe's Henry. It was even the reason why they found him, wasn't it? Someone conveniently forgot?

SURPRISES

Here's a surprising fact: I watched "My Illegal Wife" twice to confirm my observations about this film, but what I've observed was this. Sarah Geronimo's "Maybe This Time", released 2 weeks ago, has folded for good. It's not in cineplexes anymore as I write this. How long did Toni Gonzaga's "Starting Over Again" run in our cinemas? An impressive 8-9 weeks, and even longer. "Maybe This Time" (MTT), after its 2nd week is gone. So tell me honestly, would you believe when they say that the Sarah-Coco starrer was a gargantuan hit? In fact, "My Illegal Wife" enjoyed a bigger and fuller crowd in Cebu (SM Cinema 3) as it was at a Gateway cinema. Moreover, while the Manila crowd had a more reserved reception to the film's humor, Cebu crowd was rowdier. Davao audience wasn't as pleased. The movie played on almost empty halls and the few who watched weren't laughing. What does this signify? Is the Manila crowd a more sophisticated audience than the provincial folks? Is Davao more urbane in their humor? There should be a sociological explanation to these discrepancies, shouldn't there?
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But this much is true, when a comedy flick offers laughters that are exceeding few and far between, you would wonder about the material’s raison d’etre and, subsequently, its source of inspiration. They designed a persona with Pokwang's ebullience and temperament. "My Illegal Wife" is a bad idea in the guise of comedy. One wonders why Star Cinema is “making hay” successively producing bad films this year! Is it following the foot steps of GMA Films? Anyare?   

Emmanuel Palo's Sta. Nina - Coco Martin and Redemption

The parched and dusty sprawl in the sleepy town of Bacolor reflects the moral stagnation that has characterized Pol Mungcal’s life in the last ten years since his two-year old daughter Marikit died from meningitis. His abode is a desolate landscape of dust, mud and haze. And he subsists by quarrying the ravages of laharland. One fateful day, children unwittingly exhume the coffin that bears Marikit’s corpse. What’s baffling? The child looks well preserved and doesn’t show signs of decay.

With steadfast resolve, Pol (Coco Martin) embraces the coffin and singlehandedly takes his “child” back to town. His thoughts are a flurry of suppositions. This can’t be mere accident. It has to mean something.

Pol lives with a demented, albeit burdensome grandmother, Lola Bining (Anita Linda), in an unfinished house. Madel (Alessandra de Rossi), Marikit’s mother and Pol’s cousin, has long abandoned Pol for a life of less scrutiny by morally supercilious and economically gaunt townsfolk. Pol even turned his back sculpting religious artifacts out of wood. For someone who has lost so much from his missteps in the past, Pol is suddenly seized by a sense of hope. Could Marikit be his ticket to redemption?  

News spreads like wildfire. Soon people from the hinterlands visit to witness a miracle; something that hardly comes to an impoverished town gripped by apathy. People seem to hold on to faith in times of desperation. The crowd outside Pol’s home grows by the day. The ailing governor even drops by, hoping there’s cure for his cirrhosis. Even the media’s been poking its ugly head. When Madel gets wind of this, she tells Pol to just bury their daughter, but he wouldn't budge. Everyone believes. But the church. After all, not a long time ago, Melchor, a young man who allegedly saw the Virgin Mary, turned out to be a hoax. These days, Melchor is a crossdressing person named Zora. He is reviled by his neighbors and “sinusuka ng simbahan”. People are understandably more circumspect.

Then ailing people start getting healed. Lola Bining regains her lucidity. The governor’s cirrhosis disappears. Ben, the dysuric neighbor, can urinate with ease. His financially struggling – and very pregnant wife Malou – wins lottery. A child’s neck mass recedes. Who can turn their back on this spate of miracles? The town experiences resurgence of religious conviction. Pol now wants his daughter’s corpse – and accompanying wooden sculptures - be blessed and proclaimed a saint. The believers soon organize a “lakbayan” (a procession) to rally for Marikit’s sainthood in front of the Bishop. What becomes of Pol, Madel. Lola Bining, and the hundreds of faithful? Is Marikit really miraculous? Or will she turn out to be another ruse like Zora?

Director Emmanuel Palo’s “Sta. Nina” rankles with an immersive premise that hooks you tightly into its exposition. In fact, the story telling is grandiose; it reminds you of the narrative dissertation of old classics like Bernal’s “Himala”. There’s diligent care in the build-up of characters; each one subsumed by transpicuous insight. This is evident in the dynamics of relationship among Pol, Madel, Sister Josie (Angel Aquino as Pol’s sister) and Tiya Cora.

The performances are nothing to scoff at. Coco Martin is effusively committed, without the excesses of his teleserye persona. You cannot help but sit back and hold on to your arms rest as he navigates in his desperate bid for redemption. Marikit, his child, was his way to moral atonement. True enough, Marikit was his way out so people could forget his incestuous past with cousin Madel. He ironically derives and reclaims his dignity from a ten-year corpse that was once his source of embarrassment. Indeed, “Bakit sa mga makasalanan nagpapakita ang Birhen,” asks Zora.

Palo’s pace and cinematic mounting seem deliberate and almost elegiac; the emotions on exhibit are most palpable in wistful moments of scrutinizing close ups. Nor Domingo (who has a short cameo) delivers a gorgeous cinematic palette and a dazzling camera work that captures the essence of the place. Dean Rosen’s music is as hypnotic as the volcanic dunes of Pampanga. Liza Magtoto and Palo’s writing is inspired although the concluding part could have been rendered less stagey.

Coco Martin is luminous; his eyes soulful as he carries his dead child. In his face, we feel the weight of gravity as he gingerly takes his stride towards every destination (i.e. his home or the church in San Fernando). As I’ve once written, this is vintage indie Coco Martin, and what a joy to behold. Alessandra de Rossi is equally stirring, but then when was she not? We’ve mentioned about Anita Linda’s redundant role (as a demented grandmother who rambles and wanders around) here, similar to her depictions in Olivia Lamasan’s “The Mistress” and Chito Rono’s “Caregiver”. Irma Adlawan is likewise predictably surly and one-dimentional. Leo Martinez, as the Bishop, is a bothersome presence and, is thus miscast as he lividly caricatures the religious order.

I have mentioned though that the flick is hobbled by a dubitable third quarter – the “lakbayan”. We are all creatures of religion; and we should know more than anyone that there’s a process for sainthood. Lorenzo Ruiz took years; the well-loved Pope John Paul II may take decades. It isn’t like we’re just recently introduced into this predicament. Pol has a nun for a sister (competently played by Angel Aquino). She could have saved them the long travel from Barangay Saplala to San Fernando. And it is annoying how such ignorance had to include other hopefuls who never got the cure for their emotional and physical ailments.  

Sometimes, religious constitution dictates the standards of our morality. We have scruples that continually govern our lifestyle. Such dilemma should be remedied by whatever it is that doesn’t harm others. I would like to think that whenever we face gray areas, our decisions are only answerable to God; not the church. So why do we need their blessing?

Alessandra de Rossi is Madel.

Anita Linda is Lola Bining

Melchor becomes Zora, the former visionary. Judiel Nieva, anyone?

Governor Dodo and his aggressive wife: "Don't you want to be recognized as the governor of Pampanga's first saint?"

Irma Adlawan as Tita Cora

Lola Bining gets her lucidity back

Lakbayan for Marikit's sainthood

Church gets an audience.

Kissing cousins Pol and Madel

Pol and Lola Bining

Coco Martin (above and below)

Brillante Mendoza's Captive - Making War and Terrorism a Mundane Enterprise

In the darkest evening of 2001, Abu Sayyaf bandits invade the island resort of Dos Palmas, just off the coast of Puerto Princesa, Palawan. They pilfer the rooms and take the occupants as hostages, many of whom are foreigners. They ferry their victims to Basilan, taking them through the jungle, over hills, using them as pawns against military operations and peddling them for multimillion peso ransoms. From the outset, these hostages are ironically given disclaimers: that their captors practice a high level of morality, and that “man shouldn’t touch woman” unless they’re married of course. But this false sense of security is gradually shattered as the hostages battle bondage, hunger, illness, rough living conditions, and the shenanigans of their captors. Ransoms are gradually set according to occupation (“Missionaries, walang pera ‘yan!), stature (“May ari kayo ng bangko?”),  age (“Dapat iniwan nyo na yan. Pababagalin tayo nyan.”), race (“Chinese ka? Eh di madami kang pera.”), profession (doctors and nurses in a hospital are taken as well, like the characters of Angel Aquino, Allan Paule, and Che Ramos), etc.

VICTIMS

Among these victims, we follow Therese (Isabelle Huppert), a French missionary who has been roaming the country for her missionary work for 5 years; and her septuagenarian colleague Soledad (Rustica Carpio). For almost one year, the victims agonize getting caught in the crossfire against the government’s military forces (“We see their helicopters fly over us. They see us, but they shoot us anyway,” bemoans one victim.) When leader Abu Saiyed (Raymond Bagatsing) fancies a girl (Che Ramos), she gets taken to the hill and offered marriage; a proposition she couldn’t refuse. A lady doctor (Angel Aquino) gets raped by Saiyed’s successor (Sid Lucero). 

To celebrate Philippine Independence Day, a “white man” is beheaded as “gift to the President”.  When Soledad falls ill and dies, Therese gets attached to shy, 12-year old Hamed who was “recruited” after a siege in his village. One morning, a henchman (Ronnie Lazaro) gets a visit from a friend (Joel Torre) who was accompanying a TV journalist (Arlyn dela Cruz) for the requisite “proof of life”. As individual negotiators acquiesce, ransoms are predatorily hiked up. Though some of the victims get released, it becomes clear that the intention was to keep more hostages – and milk the situation for whatever it's worth. Will Therese and her colleagues survive this dilemma?

Therese to French embassy: "This is crazy. But here's my number. So call me maybe."

Director Brillante Mendoza valiantly tackles a sour chapter in the querulous war in Mindanao, south of the Philippine archipelago. He loosely derives his narrative from the memoirs (“In the Presence of My Enemies”) of real life hostage survivor Grace Burnham (whose husband perished in the crisis). Mendoza never turns his back against contentious narratives. Unfortunately, he is gradually building a growing community of naysayers who scoff at his cinematic conceit. While I love most of Mendoza’s body of work – from “Masahista” to “Serbis”, from “Lola” to “Kinatay” (for which he won Cannes’ Best Director plum), Mendoza’s decision to take on this harrowing tale is suspicious. If he’s courting the attention of an international audience, by riding on the notoriety of the situation, then he obviously didn’t succeed because Cannes and Venice seemed to have rejected “Captive” from exhibition. Regardless, Berlin welcomed him with open arms.

A YEAR OF CAPTIVITY

The films is told chronologically: Day 5 in Tuburan, Basilan; Day 6 at the Jose Ma. Torres Hospital in Lamitan; Day 46 in the jungles – the contentious wedding of Joan (Ramos) to Abu Saiyed (Bagatsing); Day 183 in Sumisip, Basilan for the “proof of life”, and so on. It soon becomes clear that this seemingly scriptless, improvisational atmosphere meanders into ennui. In fact, despite the gravity of violent extermination (beheadings) and rape, these scenes feel wanting of grit, tension and urgency, unusually unbecoming of hostage dramas. For a few moments, they almost feel like nothing but extreme sports more than bandit ministrations. A picnic in the wilds, anyone?

IMPROBABLE

There are various moments of head scratching annoyance as well. When Ronnie Lazaro throws a box of Bible in the sea, Huppert fights with all her might. Surely she understood the gravity of the situation and realized that if they could easily behead an innocent man, they wouldn't hesitate to throw a penniless missionary in the sea along with her Bibles. We also find Huppert's “catfighting” with Sid Lucero (who earlier ravaged Angel Aquino) unrealistic. You simply don't provoke the devil, do you? While most victims speak with hushed tones as they step on thin glass, Huppert's Therese is impervious to the power they hold over all of them, her included. Her French government didn’t want to dole out money for ransom. Ditto her family. She was expendable. Didn’t they behead one white man for lesser infraction? 

In another scene, Madeleine Nicolas, who plays one of the hostages, takes the phone from her captors, imploring to the authorities to stop shooting at them. While this isn’t unusual, she did this in English! Sosi, debah? Were the Philippine officers States-bread and English speaking? Or was this “official time”, thus should be spoken in the Queen’s tongue? I am sure she’d be more emphatic with “Huwag nyo po kaming paputukan” than “Darn! Stop firing at us, dingbats!” 

FAITH AND DISHONOR

Moreover, in several scenes, we find the bandits praying to their Great Allah, but I find it ironic to invoke the presence and mercy of God while curtailing the liberties of others. Do they offer severed heads to Allah? How merciful is such God if they live by violence? Isn't "doing harm unto others" a foreign concept in Godliness? Surely, a powerful Maker would disallow rape, murder, terror and mayhem. Unless we’re harping on the omnipresence of a different being more akin to fire and eternal damnation – and this could not be Allah. What I am saying is, God – in his various names – couldn’t be mean, parsimonious and violent. And if His name is invoked during these random acts of violence, then He is, in the process, dishonored, isn’t He? So matakot na kayo sa pinaggagawa nyo, leche kayo! Oops! Got carried away. :)

SARIMANOK

There is a cinematic moment of pure magic in “Captive”. When Therese wakes up beside young Hamed, she found a sarimanor, a legendary and colorful bird of the Maranao (believed to be a handsome young man searching for his lovely maiden). I was transfixed to my seat. Unfortunately, this mystical moment seemed misplaced, I half expected a narrative detour going the route of Aureaus Solito’s “Busong”. If it was an allegorical element, the meaning is lost on me. 

PROPERLY SUBDUED?

War is abrasive, grungy, fatuous, and harrowing. Except for the grime, you miss these characteristics here. A reviewer was said to have labeled the film “properly subdued”, but one wonders how subtlety figures in an experience like getting raped, captured or beheaded. To call subtlety “proper” for a theme akin to “Captive” smacks of pretension. After all, which character in this seemingly tedious tale is thoroughly expounded? We only know them superficially thus it’s hard to invest empathy on anyone; even the ones that got raped. If that’s not troubling, I don’t know what is.

Another review from Lito Zulueta of the Philippine Daily Inquirer points out and I quote, “Mendoza displays mastery of visual language and skillfully calibrates sequences of carnage and atrocity with neither sensationalism nor fakery.” Fact is, you cannot downplay violence nor avoid sensationalism if the act itself is staggering, lurid and excessive. Doing so is like drinking a cup of previously steaming coffee that’s gone cold and, well, flat. You lose the visceral component of the experience. Such is the case in “Captive” where the aforementioned atrocity becomes mere child’s play. And terrorism is never just a child's play. 

Isabelle Huppert is more masterful in this respect than her director. Her face is a canvas of crystal emotions. You look at her luminous face and realize her emotive adeptness. It’s a pity then that she shares segmented, albeit limited screen time with other actors. She deserves a back story more than just a glimpse of her life back home: that she has a daughter and two sons. Other than that, we don’t have anything else to anchor our sympathy on.  

There are several cameos from well known indie players: Coco Martin appears as a “tenyente” passing by a village (a school); there’s Kristoffer King, Neil Ryan Sese, Bernard Palanca, Baron Geisler, Mon Confiado, Tado, Maria Isabel Lopez, Mercedes Cabral, Evelyn Vargas, Anita Linda, et.al.

With a gaunt narrative flesh and tepid storytelling, your sensibility expects the ultimate denouement characteristic of other Brillante Mendoza flicks. It wasn’t there. 

She would rather ask for help in English! "Don't shoot us! Hold the fire, for Pete's sake!"

In these scenes, they hail Allah after every violent act. Something is incongruent, right?

Sarimanok. This photo only courtesy of E. San Juan Jr.'s "Ipaubaya sa Ulikba" -  http://philcsc.wordpress.com/2012/03/30/ipaubaya-sa-ulikba-tula-ni-e-san-juan-jr/

Coco Martin does a short but eye-catching cameo.

Isabelle Huppert, the pouty French superstar.

Miko Jacinto's Salo - Accommodating Affections

Rene (Paolo Rivero) is 30. Every day, he routinely leaves his steaming cup of coffee on his way to work. He runs a business that his family has left for him. Though relatively well off, Rene keeps to himself. He leads a solitary, albeit lonely life. He also employs a driver Levi (Kristofer King) who waits for him all day. Back home, his grandmother Mila (Anita Linda) lies on her sick bed in a coma. Rene gets regular visits from his “tita” (Perla Bautista) who does odd things for them: she (supposedly) takes care of her bedridden friend and occasionally sets the bashful Rene for blind dates. But he never quite connects with anyone. He in fact harbors a secret that had dire consequences one time he unraveled it. He is gay. And he harbors affection on Levi who unfortunately is in a committed relationship.

When another of Rene's blind dates doesn’t materialize at a beachside resort in Pangasinan, this opens an opportunity for Rene to spend time with Levi who, conveniently, prefers a naked frolic while he enjoys the ocean waves. Will Rene’s wistful glances come to a fruition? Will tattooed Levi entertain his closeted employer? Guess.

Miko Jacinto’s “Salo” (Share) is a surprising work. Unlike most pink films, Jacinto engages and dives into his narrative - frame after frame - with hardly a spoken word. In fact, most of the spoken lines are left hanging, i.e. there’s hardly an exchange of words. This eventually creates semblance of mood and nuances. “Salo” also benefits from Romy Suzara’s beautifully composed scenes, giving the impression that this isn’t your hurried, shoddy, one-take production.

But there is a problem where narrative details are concerned. Perla Bautista’s character, for example, bewilders. She’s the coquettish “tita” who “barks” loudly, spewing lines like: “Bumangon ka na. Masaya ang mundo. Naalala mo pa ba, dati sabay tayong nanlalalaki?” You aren’t sure this was meant to be spoken by an elderly matron. In another scene (where she gazes at the driver washing the car), she said: “Type ko siya. Matrona ba, magaling ding maghugas.” When told that Levi’s spoken for, she replied: “Kahit gawin mo pa akong kerida, ok lang!” And as if to seal the real identity – or sexual preference – of the character: “Nakadami ka na ba?” Though I understand that her character was meant to stir vitality to an otherwise dour story, her character is a tad too uncouth to be believable. You only have to see how matronly she dresses to feel this incongruence to her peculiar manner of speaking.

Spoilers!

Then there’s Anita Linda, Lola Mila, who’s confined to her sick bed. She doesn't move, doesn't open her eyes, doesn't speak. She was never given a line - not even for a short flashback. And the essence of Anita Linda lies in her expositions which were curiously clipped making this cameo nothing short of befuddling.

When her grandson Rene confessed that he’s actually gay, the news so distraught her, she went into coma. Yes, it's a homosexual-induced comatose it's one for the medical books! This spotlights the gravity of “coming out” – it can drive people to coma! J Moreover, the whole time she lay on her bed, we don’t see her with an IV line or a nasogastric tube. Since she never wakes up; how then does she feed? What’s funnier was when Mila eventually expired, this was when we find evidence of life: a pulsating jugular neck veins and the flickering of lashes. Wee.

Paolo Rivero and Kristoffer King have been around in the business so it doesn’t surprise that they lend their scenes a degree of realism and natural grace. Director Jacinto seems also aware of the thespic limitations of Jeff Luna (who plays King’s live-in partner Manny) so his spoken scenes have been played down; his dramatic lines are cleverly shot with half of his body partially covered by frames or shadows.

Because of its genre, de rigueur scenes of nudity find Rivero and King in states of undress, each has 4 bathing scenes, while King shares a shower with Jeff Luna. Showers and bathing scenes constitute a salient feature of a Pinoy Pink, didn’t you know? But consider King’s amusing scenes at the beach: he runs towards the shore then gradually takes his clothes off as he plunges into the waters. Between huge boulders, he pulls down his briefs then sits on a rough bed of pointy, sandy, scratchy corals. Can you imagine what particles get lodged in his anatomical crevices? Ouch.

Despite carefully planned scenes and artistic experimentations, there’s something gravely disturbing about an elder lady – a “tita” – who advocates polygamy. I was having second thoughts if Perla Bautista wasn’t meant to play a transvestite. Let me cogitate on that.

Jeff Luna, the sexy king of monotones.

Note:

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

Presa - Grazing the Surface

Sir Roger L’Estrange, an English writer, once wrote, “That which the world miscalls a jail, a private closet is to me. “

CAPSULE

In Adolf Alix’s “Presa”, a group of women endure each other inside a correctional facility, each one carrying a burden in their private closets. There’s the zealous Baby (Jodi Sta. Maria) who’s nimble enough to sell anything inside the penitentiary to support her family outside. Nanay Idad (Perla Bautista) is silently grieving over the death of a woman who denied her romantic advances. Dolly (Tetchie Agbayani) refuses to utter a word, until she accidentally slips in the pool. Carmen (Daria Ramirez) is eagerly waiting for her impending release with her husband. Sylvia (Liza Lorena), the cellblock’s tough talking, abusive inmate makes slaves out of Nita (Angeli Bayani) and Rose (Ina Feleo) who diligently follow her around like paid servants. But it’s really Cion (Anita Linda) whose story gets the most screen time. Otherwise known as the Famas Award-winning veteran Esmeralda Cortez, 85 year old Cion got snagged during a buy-bust operation. She is enthusiastically waiting for a presidential pardon that his lawyer has been cooking up for the last year or so. Moreover, she’s antsy, if excited, at the prospect of shooting a film with popular actress Lian (Alessandra De Rossi), a move that might spell her rightful comeback to the Silver Screen. Meanwhile, Ampi (Rosanna Roces), Cion’s loyal fan and a former police woman, religiously attends to Cion’s needs.

INFLUENCE

This great assemblage of thespians can’t help but cook up a significant amount of excitement among lovers of local cinema. It isn’t everyday these respectable names come together for an omnibus project. This significantly underlines director Adolf Alix’s burgeoning influence in the industry.

TELLING A STORY

Unfortunately, such multifarious casting comes at the cost of telling a legible story. In fact, you end up leaving the theater unsatisfied, albeit with a paltry subject for discussion among your friends. Why was Baby working so hard? Why did Dolly pretend to be a mute? Why didn’t war-freak Idad contest the supremacy of Sylvia where there should be redundancy of characters? The list is long, but they are nothing worth pontificating over because their stories were inadequately fleshed out. If this was a critique on the ability of the actors, I’d say the script writer needed a dash of inspired imagination to actually “internalize” his characters, to give them enough flesh and soul. But when you’re just grazing over the surface, all you get is the superficial matter, instead of the “salt of the earth” so to speak.

TOP-NOTCH PERFORMANCES

The performances are undeniably topnotch with Anita Linda’s Cion taking a big slice of the cake, simply because her story was fuller than the rest. Perla Bautista displays enviable skill in a part that has bypassed her all these years. Jodi Sta. Maria adequately fills out a character that instructs on subtlety and panache on emotive control. Rosanna Roces lights up the screen with understated charm. Roces has never looked this beautiful and svelte in years. In fact, in Alix’s “Karera” shown last December, she was uncomfortably robust. Roces can easily put the current crop of actresses to shame.

MISPLACED ACTRESS

It’s actually the younger part of the ensemble I’m having trouble with: Ina Feleo is a misplaced soul as the vengeful Rose who killed her abusive employer. Though she understates her performance – with palpable unease, it’s the maudlin scenes that show her relative inexperience. While the inmates were enjoying a day at the pool, the camera pans at Feleo as she eats and drinks from their “baon”. For a maid who’s supposedly used to roughing it up, she was dainty. Her fingers graciously opening a bottled water, then carefully scooping a spoonful to eat. Absolutely something that a maid isn’t! Ina Feleo may be schooled in expressing emotions. She gets this in her silent moment where she doesn’t utter a line. You don’t always get two terrific parent actors, do you? Unfortunately, it’s the physical component of acting she’s sorely wanting. As an actor, you have to move the part, transform yourself into the gait of your character. Facial expression doesn’t suffice! After all, you are a maid who killed the employer who didn’t feed you enough. You can’t be persnickety like any fairy tale princess! Her mother, Laurice Guillen, suffered the same fate in the latter’s “Karera”. More acting workshops, perhaps?

AFTERTHOUGHT

It’s such a delight that we witness this gathering of talent on screen, but it could have been a more fulfilling experience for us if there were a single story that actually made us care. But when such snippets of stories feel nothing more like an afterthought, then you are left with something that’s essentially inconsequential. And that is sad!

PUBLIC DECEPTION & HYPOCRISY THE MMDA WAY

Finally, I am disgusted with the organizers of the MMFF Committee – the MMDA – who proudly announced that 5 Independently-produced movies made it to the last Metro Manila Film Festival. As it turned out, these 5 titles weren’t even offered to the public for commercial screening last December! How these films became part of MMFF when they were only seen by the MMFF Screening Committee and their makers is a mystery of gargantuan proportions to me! I would call such move “deceitful” just to impart a veneer of “new birth” and “respectability” to the latest line of MMFF entries. Their spectacular “show” effectively made “jokes” out of the 5 indies (“Presa” included) who probably expected even a single day of commercial exhibition – which ended with “no day”! It was all for show! Shame on you, Atty. Francis Tolentino (MMDA Chair).

QUALITY DECLINE

That Butch Francisco’s taste for cinema is reflected in his championing “Presa” as a Best Picture-caliber work – and Marian Rivera a Best Actress-caliber actress for a stupid role (“Super Inday and the Magic Bibe”) – is a reflection of the slow-but-sure depreciation of the quality of names winning from the next Urian Awards, a body of critics I used to hold in high regard. Now I know better!

"Indie Boys" - On Gaudy Satires and Eye Candies

From the poster alone, the intentions of the movie is rather incontrovertible, which is sad since the story could have been a compelling satire on the present state of the Pink Film-churning independent movie industry.

Capsule

It has been 10 years since director Leonardo David’s (Paolo Rivero) last movie, and the famed director is close to getting down on his knees for a chance to work again. But luck is smiling on our protagonist. Liwayway Films' producer (Anita Linda) is forking out P400,000 for a trend-chasing film believed to turn in huge profits for the flagging company (Remember Viva Films' post-80's/90's glory when all they could produce were sex films?) The subculture community is suddenly on a whopper.

But the fun is really just starting for Direk Leo who still has to name his cast and more importantly, write his script! Publicity mill starts its wonders and soon, a riveting line-up of characters are buzzing around Leo: the effete publicist (Shalala) and his underage boytoy (Charles Delgado); the duplicitous newcomer Ryan Delfin (Guio Munoz); the despondent actor-wanna-be Raymond Sanchez (Andrew Miguel) who deliberately throws himself to Leo for a lead role; and Leo's ex-lover Lando (Kristoffer King) who once starred in each of Leo's projects, but eventually fled when the director's luck ran out! This takes Leo on a roller coaster ride that allows him to wield his wand - and will - on people.

Satire

But the anticipated arc of story telling foreshadows an eventual downfall - or tragedy. In the film, vices and abuses of industry people are boldly held up to ridicule; shortcomings of desperate souls are underlined - and we have a gaudy satire that dispenses precarious social commentary on this high-riding system that churns out gay-flavored eroticas! But - "Kailangan may girl na maghuhubad," suggests the excited publicist - to give the closeted guys an excuse to watch the film, without calling attention on their sexual preference. I couldn't say it better! ;->

However, wit is an imperative element of satire, something that is a bit wanting in the script. In fact, some situations driving the characters' motivation wallow in maudlin predictability. Let's take for example the case of newcomer Ryan who's able to snatch the lead role away from Raymond. When it was high time to do his "full frontal" shots, he balked - at the behest of his manager! I thought director Leonardo David is a seasoned pro in the business? Why does he seem too naive and too tentative to wield his authority? Logic doesn't pan out.

Andrew Miguel, aka Mike Chavez in real life, cuts a dashing, albeit bland figure on screen. When he is transfixed and caught on photographs, his profile is arresting, you would take a second glance to stare. But whenever he moves, his facial expression looks clumsy and graceless, which may somehow work for his character - the gullible cad Raymond who would stop at nothing to get what he wants. But you get the feeling that he is holding back, despite being co-lead alongside Paolo Rivero who's commendable as the gay director Leo. In fact, the most that he gets to show is his backside when this is supposed to be his film showcase.

I'd say, good for him. He may have reservations since he dabbles these days as a part-time singer (with a hit to boot: Young Men's "Mas Mahal Na Kita Ngayon"). Besides, he seems a little on the heavy side here, with extra poundage evident around his waist. The other guys in the film aren't as lucky from keeping their genitalia off the screen (Guio Munoz in his after-shower scene, Kristoffer King in a blowjob scene, and a taunting, seducing Charles Delgado opening-and-closing the door while breaking the 4th wall to jeer at his audience - as the film comes to its conclusion).

Andrew Miguel

Aside from the aforementioned actors, Anita Linda gives a marvelous cameo as the revenue-hungry film producer. The scene where she "tutors" her actors how to promote their film (a really tacky, albeit side-splitting appeal for sympathy) is quite instructive and enthralling. Now that is what satire is all about in the hands of a veteran actress like Ms. Linda. Jaycee Parker is thrown in as an inconsequential straight-men's draw. She plays Andrew's invalid sister, dubiously written as an apocryphal character. And is it me or does Guio Munoz look untidy? Must be the hair - or his nail bed? The audition scenes range from crass to hilarious, men in briefs delivering common banal lines that bear words like, "Nadarang ako. Tao lang!" I get shivers every time they get repeated. This film isn't as bad as director Cleo Paglinawan's "S.R.O." but this, really, is like saying, maroon is better than fuchsia, or white is preferable from off-white. Get my drift?

Paolo Rivero and Charles Delgado

Guio Munoz

Andrew Miguel, Guio Munoz, Angelo Cruz and Jeremy Ian (the latter two are hardly seen in the film).