Sam Milby's "Third World Happy" – Powerhouse Emotions in Understated Storytelling

It’s in the idle chatter that you realize the mind set of the people behind the film “Third World Happy”, Sam Milby’s sophomoric foray into the indie film scene.

In fact, one of its most crucial scenes ends up in an “ellipse”, a move that took us by surprise.

CAPSULE

Thirteen years after Wesley (Sam Milby) has cryptically migrated to the States, he returns to attend the funeral of a relative. But it isn’t the grief that’s wearing Wesley down, but the deluge of questions from friends, more importantly from Aylynn (Jodi Sta. Maria), his erstwhile girlfriend whom he abandoned without much of an explanation.

When Aylynn learns of Wesley’s homecoming, she gets anxious and dismissive. These days, she is the single mother of a smart child who’s 13 years old. She obviously has disceptive issues with her ex boyfriend with whom she had nurtured a 7-year relationship before he up and went… without a word. And everyone has been hounding her of Wesley’s palpable presence. Without much fanfare, the pertinent questions beg to be asked: Has Wesley sired a child? Will Aylynn finally get the closure she deserves? Why does Wesley keep to himself? Is he staying for good? More importantly, isn't happiness possible in a third world existence?

The film tackles a simple story on (dis)contentment and finding happiness, on the repercussions of abandonment and closure in a very laidback manner. You won’t find flagrant emotions on display. No livid confrontation scenes, not even when bullies attacked one of Wesley’s friends who had fallen victim to the wiles of a loan shark.

There’s the impossibly delectable side story involving the funeral parlor owner’s daughter Achi and her intermittent verbal tussle with Wesley. She’s US-bred and wanted to write her masterpiece but, for some reason, she’s stuck in narrative abyss. She’s also come home to help out in her dad’s morbidly droll business. I thought for a while there was something humming in the undercurrent of her intimate conversations with Wesley. But nothing about this film is all that predictable.

Wesley, now 32, is in a relationship with a Fil-am doctor in New York where he works for an art shop instead of producing his own masterpiece as a painter. He initially kept dodging her calls but this homecoming has taught him a lesson or two about the pitfalls of realizing dreams that don’t quite come true; what it does to us, and how it affects the people around us. Each of us dreams of our own masterpieces. Unfortunately, a great deal of them don’t quite make the canvas. Real life happens, and bits and pieces of these aren’t always the savory food we’re meant to digest

I specifically remember both Sam Milby and Jodi Sta.Maria appearing together in Milby’s first indie effort in 2008’s “Cul de Sac”. Director EJ Salcedo’s “Third World Happy” is an even more realized ouvre that spotlights Milby and Sta.Maria’s undeniable chemistry and thespic chops. In the scene where Jodi’s Aylynn first visits the wake, we witness how Sta.Maria conveys silent anxiety and understated volatile agitation in delicious emotive splendor. Sta.Maria is truly emerging as one of this generation’s most insightful performers. In fact, we picked her performance as the year’s best (in supporting category) from 2010’s short list. How Urian can even pick Rosanna Roces for her mediocre role in Alix’s “Presa” is a big mystery to me; a testament to the gradual decline in the quality of the Manunuri’s once discriminating preference. After all, how can you keep a straight face when one of their big wigs (Butch Francisco) can easily pick out Marian Rivera’s batya-carrying superheroine role as “best performance” from a recent local film festival? But we’re deviating.

Stripped off his matinee idol countenance and those cumbersome teleserye lines, Milby carries an understated elegance as an intuitive performer. He has an immersive style that allows him a very consistent characterization. He’s even more effective in his silent moments, the way he exploits the facility of the eyes to express emotion. Sam Milby is indeed very proficient, and he rightfully belongs to a career in front of the camera.

In a classy artifice unheard of in Philippine cinema, Director Salcedo successfully experiments on his use of an “ellipse”. We’re not even sure if he’s aware of this. Ellipse, in cinematic narrative structure, is the elimination of a major event in the cinematic frame, popularized by Japanese master film maker Yasujiro Ozu. In “TWH”, the audience has been prepped up for a huge and loud confrontation scene when Aylynn finally meets Wesley again, the boy who abandoned her without an explanation. We were waiting for fireworks, but all we witnessed was their muted conversation. I was frozen stiff. In awe.

Beautiful.

Achi and Wesley share their frustrations. She can't write her novel. He can't paint his masterpiece.

Sam Milby: Proficiency.

Jodi Sta.Maria: One of this generation's most insightful actresses.

Sam Milby takes on his 2nd indie work after the dramatic thriller "Cul de Sac" (2008).

Sam Milby

Altarejos' "Laruang Lalake" - Desperation & the Pink Film Industry

The Pink Film Industry that we know today owes a lot of its existence - and notoriety - from three exponents: Crisaldo Pablo for "jumpstarting" it (though this is debatable); Joselito Altarejos who "revolutionized " it (when "Ang Lalaki Sa Parola" became such a money-making success, every indie film maker were green with envy); and Brillante Mendoza who legitimized it ("Masahista", "Pantasya") by winning prestigious awards abroad.

Fortunately for Mendoza, he was able to crossover to the "respectable" genre. Now, he's regarded as a serious filmmaker. While director Joselito Altarejos is clearly a superior craftsman, his works tend to alienate a certain population of the movie-going public as he pushes the boundaries of what's acceptable. Occasionally, he vacillates to the realm of being exploitative which is sad given his talent! And the obvious way out of this predicament is to tackle stories far removed from the genre he is known for. Unless he does this, Altarejos shall be pigeon-holed into Pink Film limbo. And that would be such a waste!

But Altarejos has been making a conscious stride to veer away from this. There were hints of such struggle in "Little Boy, Big Boy", but that was a weak movie hobbled by poor casting. Then there's "Pink Halo Halo" which failed to make it in commercial cinemas. If Altarejos wants to be taken seriously, I'd say he's in the right direction. Unfortunately, this won't make him oddles of money the way "Ang Lalaki sa Parola", "Ang Lihim ni Antonio" or "Ang Laro sa Buhay ni Juan" did! But if it's longevity and legitimacy he's after, the financial truths behind his lofty ideals have to be accepted.

"Laruang Lalake" feels like a homage to Crisaldo Pablo and the Pink Film-generating industry. In fact, Pablo is cast in the film as Eli, and his homme du jour - Arjay Carreon - is uprooted from Pablo's mediocre Queeriosity flicks to star in a more legitimate project worthy of his movie star looks.

If you've seen Cleo Paglinawan's "Indie Boys" shown a few weeks back, then watching "Laruang Lalake" would feel like dejavu. It follows an independent film outfit's making of a gay-oriented movie. The story shifts its point of view from 18 year old Samuel Dionesio (Carreon) who's desperate to become a movie star - to director Wilfredo Ligan (Richard Quan), another desperate soul on the brink of bankruptcy. Samuel joins a casting audition for Wilfredo's make-or-break film, as we bear witness to a general atmosphere of despondency.

There is palpable unease as each wanna-be actor is ushered on stage; the experience couldn't be less demeaning than a consented molestation. Before the audition wraps up, Samuel is cast alongside PJ Miranda (Marco Morales), a charismatic actor who's back from hiatus. The narrative then jumps into vignettes of the actual film making: "macho dancing" scenes with tacky choreography. When the film is finally submitted to the MTRCB for review, the narrative shifts its focus by satirizing the follies of this outdated censors body. Of course, it also serves as an avenue to spotlight what's perceived as cinematic taboos: masturbation, an "aroused genitalia" and sodomy.

When Wilfredo's film eventually gets an X-rating, we see him dejected and flummoxed. After all, his mortgage rests on the public exhibition of his film. But he seems to have forgotten the alternate avenues to make money out of it: i.e. get his film shown in CCP or U.P. Theater where they are pretentiously served up as a "work of art" instead of the trash that they really are! Then there's the lucrative video release! Heck, these are even made available online, through amazon and other websites.

Richard Quan gives "Laruang Lalake" a degree of pertinence, and Arjay Carreon as Samuel finally becomes a "real movie star"! Mark Fabillar plays the production assistant who's sympathetic to Samuel's needs. He registers well on screen though we catch moments of "softness". He would make a great protagonist in future Altarejos films (he did well in "Pink Halo Halo").

There were a few peekaboos that Altarejos had to offer as "gifts" for his pink audience: one from Carreon, another from Morales, and one from an auditionee. These were "bonuses" that reminded us that despite appearances, "Laruang Lalake" is still meant for a select audience.

While Altarejos is in search of a more universal audience - a more mainstream patron, this I'm afraid will elude him if he keeps dispensing feckless "bonuses" for his select crowd of admirers.

Far from Cabanatuan, Samuel (Arjay Carreon) shuttles between exotic dancing and the occasional film work.

Marco Morales is PJ Miranda, a former actor who makes his comeback after several years of hiatus in Macau.