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

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

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

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

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

Rolly gets his chance with Carlo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gerardo Calagui's Marcie - Squalor Inspiration

There isn't much Marcie (Rain Javier) wouldn't do for his friends: Lolita (Savannah Lamsen), who operates a small parlor, and the closeted Benson (Kurt Lander), the barangay captain’s effete son. Marcie seems contented with his life in the slums. At sundown, he moonlights as a cross dressing street walker who peddles sexual services to the passing vehicles of a tenebrous alley.

One night, he gets caught by miscreant police officers who then took turns to sexually assault him. Like a heaven sent, Makoy (Eugene Tejada), a police asset and, more importantly, Lolita’s sexually ravenous boyfriend, rescues Marcie inside the precinct. After Makoy’s intervention, Marcie is set free. Grateful to the taciturn gentleman, Marcie vows to repay for Makoy’s help. As fate would have it, Makoy becomes the convenient fall guy for the lost stash of drugs retrieved from a drug bust operation. The asset suddenly becomes the prey.

Marcie steps forward by taking Makoy to a safe place, a “tambakan” (repository) of used cars in an otherwise abandoned lot; a valid option before running off to distant Sorsogon. “Walang pumupunta dito,” Marcie offers. Makoy is holed in an empty bus that quickly becomes his half way house. When Lolita’s at work, Marcie attends to Makoy’s needs. But Makoy's confinement soon turns into desperation. He needs a companion. Life of a pursued fugitive isn’t a walk in the park – and it gets lonely.

Makoy gradually falls for the attentive Marcie – and they eventually share the concupiscent bed. The accidental couple turns serious. In fact, Makoy turns green whenever Marcie leaves for work. What becomes of Lolita who’s clueless of her boyfriend’s burgeoning relationship with Marcie? Elsewhere, Benson’s dilemma is escalating. His abusive father (Brylle Mondejar) gets so frustrated with his son’s “wayward” sexuality, he employs the iron fist whenever Benson acts up. Can Makoy hide in the dump site forever?

Benson and Marcie

Marcie dolls up for work.

Erroneously marketed as a Pink Film by virtue of a transvestite protagonist, Director Gerardo Calagui’s tale boasts of a valid story replete with well defined characters from a script by Mark Duane Angos. On cursory glance, despondent characters sweep the narrative tableau as they ride their apathetic lives. As we follow their journey, we realize there's more to Calagui's tale. In E.M. Forster's book “Aspects of the Novel”, he deftly defines the proper nature of these individuals, dispatching them as “round characters” because they’re “complex and undergo development”. Marcie maybe a benevolent soul, but he isn't immune to attraction and seduction. He laments about his choices, but is powerless over them. He is a flawed individual yet he regrets about his inability to overcome his weakness. Rain Javier (first seen in Cleo Paglinawan’s “S.R.O.”) is a revelation as the cross dressing hooker. In "Marcie", you find his emotional investment.

Eugene Tejada is likewise a natural. He moves without a hint of cloddishness. This is good news considering this is just his second feature film. He was in Paul Singh Cudail’s elementary effort “Kubli”. Tejada is gifted with an inherent charm that grabs your attention as his image saunters through the silver screen. And it helps that he's easy on the eyes. Savannah Lamsen’ Lolita is underwritten. In fact, for a good part of the story, you wonder what happened to her. But the former “Fear Factor” contestant and FHM model could do well in character roles.

The movie doesn't exactly conform to the mold of a Pink Film as we know it: there is no unnecessary shower scenes requisite in these exploitation flicks and the plot is far from being thread-bare. Sure, Tejada figures in a pumping scene with Lamsen, but this is integral to defining his relationship with Lolita. Moreover, the scene isn't unnecessarily amplified to provide extended exposure of the actor’s bits and pieces. Even Tejada’s moments with Javier – or Javier’s fellating scenes with Mark Gonzalez, playing the sexually frustrated Albert whose wife fools around because he is incapable of fathering a child, are duly clipped.  

"Marcie: Ang Pag Ibig Ba ay Short Time?" maybe viewed as a defeatist's fare, but there's something inspiring about the recalcitrant human spirit. What else is left to do when we've tried everything yet we still fail. Life goes on.       

Benson (Kurt Lander) hides from his father.

Dustin Jose plays one of the police officers who sexually assaults Marcie.

After  a harrowing first meeting, Albert (Mark Gonzalez) becomes Marcie's regular customer.

Jeffrey Santos plays the police chief in pursuit of the lost loot of shabu.

Friends share a meal together.

Intimate moment with Lolita and Makoy.

Marcie joins lonely Makoy.

The barangay captain (Brylle Mondejar)

Eugene Tejada as police asset-turned-fugitive Makoy

Savannah Lamsen plays Lolita.

Paul Singh Cudail's Maligalig - Redundant and Stupefying

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

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

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

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

Would Dondie be able to help the disturbed Ricardo?  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dustin Jose as Dondie and Ross Uy as Ricardo.

Dondie and Ricardo

Dustin Jose and Jake Galleon

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

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

Ross Uy

Lem Lorca's "Bola" - Lessons in Basketball

In the poverty stricken seaside fringes of the city, Lester (Kenneth Paul Salva) and his friend Brat (Jacob Miller) weave their ambition of playing professional basketball. But such are mere pipedreams. Lester cannot afford to enroll in college, while Brat turns tricks by accommodating liaisons with lascivious homosexuals. Meanwhile, they content themselves with their barangay basketball league which is in need of a manager who will provide their jerseys.

When Lester gets the idea from girlfriend Angel (Sofia Valdez) with whom he’s nurtured a strong 6 year relationship, Lester and Brat turn to couturier Pandy (Arnell Ignacio) who’s only too willing to manage the league. What’s more, the besotted philantrophist even offers to pay for Lester’s college education. Pandy even enveigles the help of the university’s coach Rito (Dustin Jose) to get the boys playing for the varsity team. With these earlier encumbrances remedied, their dreams start taking shape.

But Lester is slowly unsettled by Pandy’s suffocating presence: he makes a hundred calls; extends numerous invitations; he’s everywhere, even during team practices. Even the coach, who was once Pandy’s protégé and lover, starts to resent Pandy’s distracting ubiquity. He starts prohibiting outsiders, Pandy especially, from watching his team practice.

But a collegiate life isn’t as easy for our beleaguered protagonist – Lester is failing his subjects. His mother (Suzette Ranillo) suggests the option offered by his cousin to migrate to Canada – to become a nanny! “Ayokong maging yayo,” Lester adamantly refuses. It would seem understandable for a young, 6-footer to emasculate himself by even considering the option, di ba? His way to redemption is staying in the varsity – but what about his failing grades? Coach Rito offers a winking solution: “Ako’ng bahala. Kakausapin ko ang professors mo.” How convenient, right? But this generous offer doesn’t come without a price – like a coach and his player sharing a shower together. With his luck briskly running out, Lester acquiesces.

When Pandy learns of the coach’s ministrations, he is grief stricken. Sheldon (Simon Ibarra), Pandy’s confidant, offers a solution: “Gusto mong makaganti?” So Sheldon offers Brat the chance to pay for the latter’s debt. Would Brat betray Lester? Will Lester extricate himself from his piling misfortune? Will Pandy get his retribution?

Another pink trash?

The first hint of this production's motive comes from its theatrical poster which has a dramatically placed basketball floating on mid-air as it casts a heart-shaped shadow on the ground below. Had this been commercially bent on attracting the hormone-crazy pink crowd, it would have been more convenient to use the fetching images of its well sculpted stars - have them stand half naked with enticing gazes directed at the camera, instead of using a sexless inanimate object.

Much like Miko Jacinto's "Salo", I was mildly surprised to find this to be a compelling watch. Sure, there are a few conscious artistic contrivance meant to satisfy a subset of its intended audience (in separate scenes, the camera pans over Lester and Brat's half naked body while their hand gently reach down their crotches and enticingly insert a finger under their briefs - while asleep!). But most of the sexually-charged scenes were never gratuitous. In fact, these cinematic teasing felt sexier than the brainless fodder that the Pink Industry has been churning out!

Arnell Ignacio delivers a nuanced performance, richly contextual and adequately tempered although his concluding scenes needed restraint. His obsession with Lester becomes a believable entity. Some attractions, after all, need resolution. Kenneth Paul Salva, a former Viva Hotmen, occasionally feels tentative and unsure, but watchable. Though not particularly drop-dead gorgeous, he oozes with sex appeal and his shirtless scenes scorches the screen like a well-done baby back ribs!:) Yum! Am I really writing this? LOL

My point here is, titillating an audience doesn't rest solely on indiscreet flashing of genitalia. The art of seduction goes way beyond full frontals. This isn't even saying that "Bola" is the quintessential erotica - it isn't! This is a film that doesn't desperately exploit its actors - like most of the 30 Pink Films that was shown in 2011.

"Bola's" most unexpected achiever is the amerasian Jacob Miller, playing the willful Brat. Miller, despite his beguiling looks, acts naturally on screen. He is comfortable with his declarative lines as it it when the thespic degree of difficulty is raised. After a scene where Sheldon, the scorned gay man, confronts him in front of Brat's basketball team mates then expropriates the gifts given to him by his benefactor: shoes, cell phone, wrist watch - the scene cuts to a heart broken and absolutely embarrassed Brat drinking his heart away. He bawls like a child and there was never a hint of hesitation how he depicted his character. This guy can act! Seriously!

There are, of course, reckless narrative strains and hints of social commentary: the egregious misappropriation of SK funds; government officials who can't be bothered, etc. But these were harmlessly grazed upon. Even sociological statements like "Gay men should fall in love with fellow gay men, not straights" spring out of nowhere. The vengeful plot is also imprudent. They will first have you thinking that an assassination plot is in the offing. Then it turns out to be a mere video scandal in front of a basketball audience! Video scandals almost never "kills" anyone, does it? Katrina Halili is alive. Hayden Kho is selling Parisian perfumes. Toffee Calma and Mark Herras still have their lives. So much for nefarious schemes.

There is a lesson to be learned from "Bola". An artist cannot be adept in all aspects of film making. Heard about the adage, "jack of all trades, master of none"? It is a valid statement even in the cinematic process. Director Lem Lorca benefits from Jerry Gracio's writing. Script constitutes half of the artistic success of a film. Technical proficiency completes that. This really makes multi-hyphenated artists somehow failing somewhere, although there are a few exceptions. This should not stop directors from tweaking with a script on hand. After all, his is the vision behind the movie. He can collaborate, but someone should step up to concentrate on the basics of a narrative, its contents and more importantly, the designed structure.

After watching "Bola", I went out of the cinema feeling light. It was far from being a masterpiece, but it didn't dumb me down. In fact, I went out of the cinema not feeling badgered or embarrassed. There is hope - even for the Pink Film industry! I hope Crisaldo Pablo and his cohorts take note.

Dustin Jose is Coach Rito: troublesome English delivery. Time and again, I've been saying don't compromise and expose your actor's limitations by having them deliver in the Queen's language. Tagalugin po! It doesn't make a character less authoritative by speaking the vernacular! Otherwise, I slide deeper and deeper into my seat while he painfully wrestles with his lines!





Jacob Miller: Surprisingly good!


Lester and mother (Kenneth Paul Salva and Suzette Ranillo)


Simon Ibarra as the scorned and vengeful gay man Sheldon.


The coach jumps shower stalls for an intimate errrr... stroke? P.S. Pink Cinema's "it" boy, Jeff Luna has a blink-and-he's gone cameo.

Miller and Salva: Both models hail from Davao! What's with Mindanao waters?


Kenneth Paul Salva: Decent cinematic starrer!

Kenneth Paul Salva


Sofia Valdez in "Talong". Her other films include "Ang Kapitbahay", "Anakan Mo Ako" and "Kangkong". Don't you just miss the exquisite taste of Seiko Films' title-making machinery? How about "Sitaw ni Sofia"? Or "Bola at Mani"?


Unfortunately, it's almost impossible to google and find any other photos of Sofia. She's more beautiful now in "Bola" than when she was a nubile nymphet in Robbie Tan's masterpieces. Yes, there's a couple of mammary peekaboos here. :)

Note:

Please read our featured post on Cinema Bravo and why Web Criticism isn't always about good and reliable writing.

- http://makemeblush2.blogspot.com/2016/10/cinema-bravo-film-criticisms-execrable.html

Kubli - An Impressionable Romance

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

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

Saving a friend the second time around.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

CRYING GAME

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

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

Johnron Tanada

Spoilers

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

BURDEN OF THE STORY

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

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

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

Eugene Tejada


Dustin Jose


Jeremy Ian