I’ve got faith in Soxy Topacio. Always have. Especially after that wonderful comedy that was Ded Na Si Lolo (2009) that could only rock the world of anyone who follows local movies – local comedies in particular. Topacio brilliantly captured the tragicomedy that is death and the family in a lower class setting without making it seem like a judgment, or an apologia for that matter.
Ah, but maybe that was a movie that was by most counts about being an indie, those were the days when Soxy as writer-director could freely demand that his story be told without the limits of network stars and box office success. Such is the tale of his recent comedy Adventures of Pureza, Queen of the Riles (Star Cinema) where Melai Cantiveros is obviously the point, and everything else in the movie is allowed to suffer. Which is to say that the story suffered. Where it could’ve been a swift narration of what’s expected, it became a series of events that wanted to tie together the character of Pureza. And yet there was nothing in Melai as an actress that made this wholeness relevant or crucial, nothing at all that made it seem like it was needed. In fact, given the acting she did here an audience would’ve been happy enough with no resolutions to her persona, and she could’ve moved from beginning to end playing mostly herself: loud and crazy, over-the-top silly, no stretch in characterization at all.
Given these limitations in a lead actress, the decision it seems was to work with everyone – and everything – else other than Melai. This might be why over and above veteran actress Gina Pareño whose tongue-in-cheek kontrabida character just worked as expected , there was some really good acting here, the kind that knew to be ironic, to be absurd, that was conscious of the story as comedy, that knew of the story’s limitations given its genre.
had an infinitely emotional conversation with this non-fiction narrative of a review of Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa.
The teacher of literature, Karen (Jean Garcia), is enigmatic for a reason, but effective like every literature teacher should be. She reads poetry and it comes alive, she asks questions about it with certainty. She is unsurprised by any of her students’ assertions, even as these are necessarily about sexuality and desire, love and intimacy, the act of gazing. Even as she is the object of that gaze.
That Karen is unperturbed becomes part of her enigmatic persona; that this ties cleanly together with the fact of her silence(s) as teacher is the gift that Yapan’s characterization gives us, acknowledging without romanticizing the fact of teaching’s contingent and necessary loneliness, one that isn’t a sad thing at all. Karen’s quiet solitude shines with possibility and freedom, even as it becomes fodder for students’ presumptions about her, even when all it means is that she will never be known.
It might have been the more apt title, actually, for the benefit of those who are so strict about originals and remakes, and imagine faithfulness to be about keeping to the level of copy. But there’s no crossing the same river twice, and it’s a foregone conclusion that every remake is a retelling, every retelling a different story altogether.
And so the question for Chris Martinez’s remake of Joey Gosiengfiao’s 1981 Temptation Island (Regal Films and GMA Films) is: does it still work? Is campiness something we’d know to be an exaggeration? Would campiness work with this set of five girls, three guys, and a gay man?
Could Martinez make it work?
He apparently can, at least if we take the laughter in that almost filled theater as an indication of success. I myself was familiar with the lines from the original and still found myself laughing, sometimes too loudly or just earlier than the rest of the audience in that cinema. Because there’s a learning curve here, during which the audience seem to warm up to the idea of exaggeration and extremes, the kind that campy relies on.
So when the movie begins with Lovi Poe’s Serafina, with her overtly slow and husky voice, and a body in the eternal act of posing, it was easy to feel the audience’s discomfort: ah, this is this kind of movie? Never mind that it wasn’t clear what kind it was. By the time Marian Rivera was delivering Cristina’s lines while dancing with her crook of a boyfriend, the over-the-top delivery seemed to have sunk in, if not the obvious look and feel of an Austin Powers movie.
in 2006, and just the past week, Nestor Torre had the same complaint about Sam Milby, and the same conclusion. complaint: his lack of Filipino language skills. conclusion: his roles and acting are limited by it. in 2006 he said:
now i know Torre’s generally unhappy with the romantic-comedy, thinking it limits actors such as John Lloyd Cruz’s acting (yes, i will respond to that soon), but it might do him well to go through Sam’s filmography. for even when it is a rom-com, he began doing it better than most from the moment he did the fat guy in Jade Castro’s My Big Love. there also wasn’t much comedy in his character in I Love You Babe where he played an irritable architecture professor, and no comedy at all in And I Love You So where Sam in fact proved he could do a character with not a whole lot of cuteness.
Sam as fat guy Macky Angeles in My Big Love by Jade Castro
now it isn’t clear to me which “shallow balikbayan types” Torre’s saying Sam has played, but there was complexity even in his characters as the policeman-wannabe in You Got Me and the US embassy consul in You Are The One. it might not have been as complex as Torre wanted them to be, but that might be a limitation of the genre more than anything else. a genre, we repeat, that he apparently doesn’t like much.
now of course Sam’s smile shouldn’t be a problem. except that for Torre, it is:
this begs the question: there are no cute smiles in a drama about cancer and dying?* or is it just Sam’s smile that we question? granted he praises Sam as “committed” and “present” here, in the same breath Torre says Sam winged it in his previous films. i’d like to know which ones, and how. because his Chris Panlilio resonates not at all with its darkness but with its free spiritedness, even when yes, he was the dark rocker dude there. his Chef Macky Cordova where he was put in a fat suit has yet to be attempted by any other actor in these shores and is still absolutely enjoyable.
Sam broods as Chris Panlilio in andiloveyouso directed by Laurenti Dyogi
in the end Torre fails at considering the kind of development that’s in Sam’s filmography, which would be fine were he NOT making conclusions and generalizations about Sam’s acting, were he just seeing him in light of this recent film and nothing else. Forever And A Day as he says was a storytelling failure. why drag Sam’s whole film career with it? and why suggest that he stop making movies altogether? that’s to simply look down on all the movies and all the work he’s done so far, yes? i’m the last person who will say Sam’s the best actor in these shores, but i will give him credit for roles, in rom-com and otherwise, that are undoubtedly his. without giving him that credit, all Torre does is criticism un-constructive, and where would we all be with that.
*and while we’re on Forever And A Day, it’s unclear to me why Torre would think this a romantic-comedy when it so obviously wasn’t from the beginning, not when the main female protagonist was revealing so little about herself. had he seen much of the rom-coms we churn out, it would be clear to him that this was farthest from it from the start. too, he obviously didn’t see Chris Martinez’s beautiful glossy portrayal of a cancer patient’s last 100 days which would debunk his idea that medical conditions and gloss don’t go together. goodness.
To get anywhere really, and in the end didn’t even get close to redeeming itself. Unless of course redemption is about finally – finally! – having a local romance that doesn’t end as happily as usual? But even that gets lost in the aftermath of a movie that was more than anything, a waste of talent (the actors’ and director’s) and time (mine).
Forever And A Day (directed by Cathy Garcia-Molina, screenplay by Melissa Mae Chua and Carmi G. Raymundo) began with the grand goal of talking about love and death. In the end what resonates is that the self-centered executive Eugene (Sam Milby) compared his work problems with the pain of Raffy (KC Concepcion), a cancer patient. What resonates is that this movie’s dream of a complex love story ultimately had a nightmare of a script, one that created characters with no real motivations, one that had a story that could not for the life of it deal decently with death and love.
When I say that this movie doesn’t deal, I mean there are no real conversations here, no conversation at all between Eugene and Raffy on that one day (actually three) that they found themselves thrown together in Bukidnon and Cagayan de Oro. On those days all we saw were the two doing extreme activities, first with an amount of yabangan, later with some laughter, but nary a relevant conversation.
That this lack of conversation is in the first 30 minutes of the movie when Eugene and Raffy are supposed to fall in love, made that famous scene where KC delivers the line, “Kaya mo bang mahalin ang isang taong alam mong mawawala rin sa’yo?” absolutely laughable. Because the real answer to that question should’ve been: “Try mong mahalin ang taong hindi mo kinausap.”
