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"?.  ;->

Tumbok - Exhaustingly Marooned in Cliche

When I was a child, I had a yaya who flourished in her fantastical stories. It was a childhood replete with the most vivid tales of folk lore and superstitions. She loved scaring me until I was blue and shaking under my sheets. But then she would smile and assure me that bad things happen only to bad people. How naïve, right? But it was sweet, and I soon learned to cope. Children are resilient and learn to adjust in time. I still get my goose bumps when watching horror flicks, but I can now sit through a marathon of them wearing a poker face, seemingly without care, but with toes curled down below.

“Tumbok” is one of those superstitions that I’ve come across early on. It’s when a street or two converge, and this focal point becomes the epicenter of bad luck. This is the point of contention in Topel Lee’s “Tumbok”.

Young couple Ronnie (Carlo Aquino) and Grace (Cristine Reyes) inherit a room in a doddering, ramshackle building right where three streets converge. Most of its tenants have all but deserted this tenement, except for the few occupants in the same floor as Grace and Ronnie’s. The transfer has been smooth as the couple is being ushered into their new abode, with great help coming from their landlord Mark (Ryan Eigenmann). But things go bump in the dark, and Grace is plagued by visions and sounds that don’t quite exist on second sight. Gradually, a series of mishap characterize the fate of the building’s inhabitants: an explosion at the students’ room; a constantly bickering couple (Wendy Valdez and DJ Durano). Moreover, there’s a ghostly child named Yumi who vanishes just as quickly.

Furthermore, cataclysms seem to follow the couple. Ronnie develops a non-healing wound where worms crawl out of and Grace starts dreaming of being taken advantaged by Mark. Even job opportunities where Grace has already been accepted disappear (the employing officer dies). Are these things related to their present home? Lumen (LJ Moreno), the couple’s cousin, soon confirms this, albeit fatally so.

CONGESTED THOUGHTS

Early on, the story is congested with recurring scenes set to establish an atmosphere of dread: an off-kilter music that suddenly turns into loud bangs saunters along with visions of ashen faced children – peeping through doors, gazing from the foot of the stair, morbidly dipped under water in a tub, or gliding sideways behind their backs. How much mood do you need when you find this gimmick nauseatingly repeated 5 times in the first 20 minutes of the movie! Does it get scarier the more we repeat it? The element of surprise dissipates as quickly after the 5^th appearance-disappearance and this “contraption” becomes exhausting. You end up getting sensitized - and it isn't even half way through the whole movie.

Unfortunately, there are more derivative scenes you can easily identify from ten dozens of horror flicks: doors suddenly opening (this happens 4x or so); the protagonist waking up from a bothersome dream (this happens 3x); invisible creatures creeping under the bed; crawling hands moving under the blanket then sliding through the hair; ghouls posturing behind Cristine or Carlo like they are about to devour them, but when they look behind, there’s no one there. Yup, all of the above, with nauseating regularity.

Where is the T in T-junction?

At some point in the film, you realize Topel Lee is stuck in a narrative plateau. Yes, the director has an enviable cinematic eye. He creates images that reek with mood and an impending doom, but he has, of late, been victim to the “horror checklist”. He dutifully enumerates them in his cinematic pad, then peppers the whole story with “lots of it”. We are seeing him in an unflattering light. The realization becomes clear: Topel Lee is not a competent story teller. In this movie, he is completely at a loss. Desperately!

I once rationalized this suspicion and pointed the blame to mainstream film making because I have seen his “Dilim” (2005, with Mario Magallona and Rica Peralejo) and the “Ang Manunulat” segment of the omnibus project “ImaheNasyon”. These two films were progressive and entertaining works from Lee. But let’s check out his last 3 movies: the execrable “White House”, the vomit-inducing “Wapakman” (with Manny Pacquiao, and one of the worst films of the decade), and the uneven “Sundo” (with Robin Padilla and Sunshine Dizon). Clickthecity reviews have been kind to Mr. Lee, but after several movies, I just do not understand a statement like “…but he's capable of so much more.” More what? More of “My Kuya’s Wedding?” After making these last three films, Topel Lee has indeed shown what he is capable of doing. And this isn’t much!

Is there really an immense talent behind someone who shamelessly imitates Yam Laranas’ “ghosts in the tenement” tales? Are people really so forgetful of Laranas “Sigaw” (with Iza Calzado) and its American incarnation “The Echo” (Jesse Bradford and Iza Calzado)? Some of the characters in "Sigaw" included an abusive cop and his battered wife. Lee updates this in "Tumbok" with an abusive security guard and his wife (Durano and Valdez), which is a demotion since, heck, it’s just DJ Durano playing the part, and we don’t want to upstage Carlo Aquino who is the police department’s official photographer, do we? These “trapped characters” keep re-experiencing these events in vicious cycle. Wasn’t that the delectable conceit in Yam Laranas’ movie’s epilogue?

Even the details are indolent. When Ronnie bangs at the door of the rambunctious students to ask them to pipe down, they just ignore him. So he pulls his police badge out from somewhere under his shorts! When he visits a hospital to see his wife, he once again flashes his badge when all he needs to do is ask for the room number since he is the patient’s husband after all. His badge is glued somewhere in the recesses of his ass, and he's just too happy to flash them when he can.

Once again, we turn “medical”. In one scene, Aling Elsie (Malou de Guzman) points out, “Buntis ka? Ang lakas ng pintig ng leeg mo eh.” Distended neck veins are a sign of pregnancy? You better rush that girl to the hospital because such distention is synonymous with right-sided heart failure more than pregnancy. I have never heard of such hogwash! When Ronnie unfolds the bandage from his arm wound, he finds it throbbing and growing, with worms crawling out of a hole, yet we don’t exactly see him rushing to the doctor. He treats it like it's a pimple waiting to be squashed. Cash strapped maybe? “Naubos ang savings ko sa libing ni Lumen,” he reasons later.

Cristine Reyes is an engrossing presence, making this cycle of clichés a wee bit tolerable, and Carlo Aquino makes the most of his low-ranked police officer with an adumbral past. Unfortunately, pairing Reyes and Aquino together was like lighting a torch filled with water, instead of petrol. There isn’t any spark to speak of. Ara Mina and Jao Mapa’s cameos (a side story that supposedly explains Ronnie’s past) feel incongruent to the idea of "tumbok". After all, how can Ronnie forget everything about his origin? A coping mechanism to forget? Was he an amnesiac in the vein of Toni Gonzaga (“My Amnesia Girl”)? Ryan Eigenmann renders the flick some gravitas, but his incubus (a demon who descends upon people to have sexual intercourse with them in their sleep) feels too manipulated a character to be believed, a plot device that doesn't quite hold water. Are we still talking about “tumbok” (“poison arrow” in feng shui) here or is this a separate entity? The devil's child, perhaps? These fusion of ideas clutter around in confusion. But, hey, at least we have a lot of atmospheric shots, di ba?

Finally, just to lay out the concept of “tumbok” on the discussion table, check out our diagram of “tumbok” above (courtesy of www.cavitehomes.com) and compare this with the “other” entity called “Curved Knife” road. Then compare this with the building used in the movie (see the photo above). It hardly describes a “T-junction” to me, does it? Maybe they should have re-titled this one with something more appropriate. Like “Hilo”?

Bonamine, anyone?

Cristine Reyes - engrossing presence

Cristine Reyes

Cristine Reyes

Ryan Eigenmann - enough gravitas

LJ Moreno as Lumen discovers that Ronnie and Grace live right in the heart of superstition.

Marino - Heroism Went Out to Sea

See Ara cry in the kitchen, at the sala, on the bed, at the fishpen, then while changing LPG tanks. Then Allen Dizon joins the crying game at his bunk, by the stairs, and every helluva corner of a sea vessel! Oh! As an afterthought, they decided to season it with a wee bit of a narrative idea. Get the drift?

That "Marino (Call of the Sea)" is this film production's homage to the OFW's and the seafaring Pinoys is a disservice to this subset of itinerant workers. That the movie shows the "simple and noble acts of heroism" is spurious. What is so heroic about a man who, while grieving for the death of his father-in-law, prefers to gallivanting around Thailand's "Ancient Siam" Recreational Park then caps his afternoon with a lay in the hay with a hooker in Bangkok? That this is the very first film to focus on the plight of Pinoy seamen is purely sensationalist hogwash and ignorant. Remember Mark Reyes' horrible "I.T.A.L.Y. (I Trust and Love You)" shown barely 2 years ago? That film was about the lives of Filipinos working on a cruise ship - and shot in "3 continents, 5 countries and 13 cities" - as though that was going to produce a masterpiece.

In "Marino", a horde of men are thrown together in a commercial vessel where we witness "ultra-thin" slices of their miserable lives. But the spotlight is on Benjo (Allen Dizon) who worries about a myriad of concerns: his wife Mina (Ara Mina) and her sick father, his younger brother Henry (Mike Tan). The rest of the crew is made up of dispensable characters - an awful cook (Victor Basa), a horndog gay man (Rico Barrera), an epileptic crew (Emilio Garcia). On land, we are further introduced to several indeterminate characters: the tricycle driver Arman (Marco Alcaraz) who pines for Mina's affections; Benjo's hopeful ex-girlfriend (Bangs Garcia) and a Filipina hooker who plies the streets of Bangkok (Krista Ranillo).

Director Paul Sta. Ana concocts a chopsuey of badly told stories that reek with fragmented melodrama and borderline acting. It was obvious they were highlighting the middling dramatic prowess of Allen Dizon who has of late been resorting to "woe-is-me" dramatics. That he can cry buckets is no benchmark for a good performance! He didn't move me! I was more annoyed! At the other end of the spectrum is how "Marino" drips with obdurate sentimentality, it is laughable!

The protracted story involving Krista Ranillo is really an expendable beat and is meant to give Ranillo more screen time than the story requires. A lost necklace, it seems, is Benjo's testament to fidelity. This is one guy whose priorities are all skewered! I would be a moron if I were to sympathize with his character.

In these times, heroism and nobility have acquired a new meaning. Why do people tend to believe that heroism is synonymous with leaving the country for a job abroad? What does it make the Filipinos who opt to stay home and work twice as hard for so much less? Are they really less of a hero for staying put? Are we less noble for enduring what our country can provide? Go figure!

Ara Mina (as Mina) is confused. She can't quite make up her mind whether her father suffered a stroke or is comatose? So they killed him off. That makes things less complicated! LOL

Two months of riding the vessel, Benjo already amassed several videos of his family. He even watches videos of him and his father-in-law sharing a light moment on his TV bunk. You can imagine how many other videos he will own one year later. Amazing! After receiving news of his in-law's death, he cavorts with a hooker in Bangkok. Upon his return to the vessel, he engages in a 5-minute crying spell as he grieves (again) for his father-in-law. Akala ko tatay n'ya ang iniiyakan, biyenan pala. Haha! Meanwhile, back in Manila, the dead man's own daughter Mina has moved on.

Mike Tan is a breath of fresh air. He plays Henry, Benjo's younger brother who once again failed his board exams.

Rico Barrera is Errol who slithers his way around crewmates' beds. Others call him "Carol".