Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang (Lino Brocka)

Anguish.

Living in the modern Filipino film culture, one can't easily delve oneself deeper into it without even hearing about the film "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" and marvel about how heavily metaphoric the title really is. And then, with an unconscious compulsion, you then become curious. What is the film really all about? I, for one, initially thought that this film, although undoubtedly one of the finer Filipino films, isn't clearly one of the all-time greats. That's me and my unflinching idiocy. I then rewatched it with the aforementioned question rerunning in my mind, and then some. And just like that, I was in utter awe.

"Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" may widely be considered as Lino Brocka's seminal masterpiece, but somewhere within the corners of my mind where "Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag", "Bona" and this film are on a continual struggle for subjective supremacy, it might just be his best work.

Contrary to Brocka's trademark ambient sounds-enhanced, raw visuals-enforced neorealisitic approach to contemporary Filipino squalor that has been ever prevalent in his later films such as "Insiang", "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" boasts of a powerful human drama set within the hypocritical social and religious milieu of a seemingly quiet rural town.

Part coming-of-age film and part cinematic indignation of inhuman judgments, the film succeeded to disturb, touch and shake viewers all at the same time with its potent ability to deliver both an encompassing social commentary and an observant exploration of an adolescent's moral journey from debilitating indifference to something mirroring righteous courage and humanity.

The teenager, named Junior, played by then-rookie actor Christopher De Leon (who won a FAMAS for his performance in the film) who surprisingly handled the role like a seasoned veteran, is caught at an early crossroad; in this existential standstill, he can't seem to find his own path. Should he follow his father's successful yet women's perfume-laden path (a serial womanizer, that is)? Must he pursue a romantic, but ultimately hollow and immature commitment, or does he have the fiber to embrace the lives of two sideshow social outcasts whose deeply felt relationship overpowers their physical and mental shortcomings?

In some ways, just as how Brocka applied it to his later film "Jaguar", "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" is a film that deals with crucial choices. Even with the dream-like opening sequence alone which, in a very hallucinatory way, portrayed the emotional nightmare of an abortion, both in its procedure, the aftermath (this powerful scene prophetically answers some of the questions that were raised in the 1985 film "Hinugot sa Langit) and the psychological effect once the choice regarding it was finally made, though in the film's case, a one-sided one at that (Lolita Rodriguez's Kuala seems unwilling).

Today, mentioning the name Lolita Rodriguez is like unveiling a dignified marble statue of a true Filipino cinematic icon, and for that kind of automatic pop culture thinking, suffice it to say that it was duly in part of her legendary performance in this film as the town lunatic, Kuala. It's one of the best performances in all of Filipino cinema, and her detailed conveyance of staggering facial expressions and uncanny gestures brilliantly merged and crisscrossed both the overly animated movements of a dirty mental case and the uncommon emotional depths of a woman who just suffered too much and is begging, by way of her soul creeping silently through her eyes, for all of it to end.

Mario O'Hara's role as Berto the leper is just as tricky to pull off. Listening to some of his lines, the character may easily drift into one-dimensional nobility, but O'Hara kept it all together quite consistently and has able to display the visceral goodness of a man who has nothing left to lose but just enough time to love. Eddie Garcia also shined in his role as Junior's father, Cesar, a role he so conveniently and effortlessly played that the very polygamous core of the said character has since been iterated quite heftily in his action film roles (the 'Manoy' persona).

One of Brocka's real, unequaled strengths is his great execution of endings. The one here in "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" is a great example. Playing with the facial expressions of both the extras and the chief actors while still maintaining the emotional strain of the ending's dramatic center, the film, although can easily be branded as a communal tragedy, is still hopeful despite of its wounded premises. And as Junior emerges from Kuala and Berto's hut, carrying a symbolic purity that is a product of two individuals that were subjected to inhumanity, there's a feeling of solitary safety, and at last an emphasis, as Junior looks upon the people's guilty faces, of what was really weighed and found terribly wanting: the town itself.

FINAL RATING

Bona (Lino Brocka)

Her 'boiling' point.

3 times. I have already seen "Bona" 3 times yet its emotional wallop never falters. Beyond its narrative simplicity mainly set in a destitute slums lies the emerging complexity from a character which may seem symbolic rather than true molds from reality at first sight, but whose conflicts, choices and behavioral preferences leads her to the truest form of inescapable existential mishaps that prove to be in touch with the reality of mindless idolatry.

The film opens with the haze of confusion during the 'Feast of the Black Nazarene'. Countless people grabbing the traditional rope, wiping their towels on the black statue and others watching curiously as they converge for an unhindered faith in hopes of blessings. Brocka shot this 'cinema verite' sequence with a great intent to expose the rawness and spontaneity of Filipino culture yet it's also his powerful initial statement to the pseudo-romantic fable that is about to unfold: The worship for something fantastically adamant and emotionally inanimate to even feel it.

The waves of the mob wants the mercy and guidance from the Black Nazarene, Bona wants love from movie bit player Gardo. Religion and romance. Not your typical, close-necked comparison, but I can see where director Lino Brocka is coming from. He wants to show the blinding extent of devotion both from an immense display of it (the feast), its miniature counterpart (Bona's enclosed self-depreciation in the name of 'love'), and even more so, its occasional futility.

Nora Aunor is Bona in one of her most mystifying and logically puzzling characters to date. The narrative never even showed us how she has developed her bizarre infatuation with movie extra Gardo (Phillip Salvador in a role that, as what my review of "Jaguar" states, showcases his acting talent of differentiating transitionally contrasting qualities of a character) and instead started somewhere in the middle. We see Bona do meager things any die-hard fans would do for their idol. She gives him food and drinks and even shelters him with her umbrella during a rain. Her actions were understandable yet the man it was all done to is questionable at best.

We may ask ourselves, what did Bona saw in this man? Is it his stature as a showbiz figure? No, he's merely an extra. Is it his looks? Maybe, but she sees him many times groping with many women. Why bother? That's the ultimate question that came into my mind. It may seem a mundane inquiry, but it is from this that comes the profundity of Brocka's stirring commentary about who Bona may really be: An epitome of a confused woman helplessly testing her ability to dare declare her misguided independence and try her luck and flirt with her idea of loyal love.

Gardo, on the other hand, takes advantage of her innocence and treats her almost as a maid and as his mother's second coming. And finally, after living with each other for a considerable time, Gardo executed his sexual advances, to which Bona welcomed in confusion. The morning after, as she mends the chores, she also consciously hopes to squeeze out love from whatever happened the night before.

This is the sequence where Nora's mark was indelibly left with the power only SHE can muster. After the night of their bodily contact, as Bona prepares Gardo's breakfast, Nora expressed her character's longing, aspirations and expectations for a potential development of a romance through her ever-impressive eyes. As Gardo eats, Bona waits. She's hoping for him to return a bright gaze for her countless pleading glances, but ultimately, there was none. The night was forgotten, after all.

Brocka handled it (story written by Cenen Ramones) without highlighting the glances but instead diluting it through Phillip Salvador's trivial dialogue. Brocka manipulated the screen by letting not just Bona to taste the bitterness of romantic defeat, but also us. We may never know of Bona's motivations to live with such an uncaring man in exchange of her family, but her recurring dream of being entrapped by flames and a moment in the wedding scene (of Bona's friend and former suitor, Nilo, played by Nanding Josef) may have given an answer.

While drinking a beer, as the other people shout "Sayaw, Bona! Sayaw!" ("Dance, Bona! Dance!"), she obliged. As she is dancing in half-drunk ecstasy, a bonfire blazes in her background. All her perceptions of happiness may have rooted out from her innocence, but ultimately, her joy is to be always near the 'fire'. Brocka in one of his finest, and so was Nora.

FINAL RATING

Jaguar (Lino Brocka)

'Jaguar' tamed, tired and disillusioned.

Among Lino Brocka's works, I think "Jaguar" is, above all, the perfect companion piece to "Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag". They both feature protagonists clinging on some undeniable hopes of tasting some of the sweeter sides of life, yet too puny to fend off social denigrations they face in the very process of attaining it. We emphatically looked upon Julio Madiaga's dimming dreams of love and aspiration in the night lights of Manila and wondered how we can even cope up to the follies of his naivety. Now, here in "Jaguar", a film that is not a necessarily weaker approach to the similar theme of an individual's social alienation and subsequent transformation, those themes were then combined with the similar elements of a city's absolute, misleading promises with the idea of opportunity and ambition.

Phillip Salvador is perfect as Poldo, a security guard hired as bodyguard by his boss (played by Menggie Cobarrubias, one of the great local character actors whose name you probably would not know, but whose face you probably have seen in a gazillion Filipino movies. Google him, if you may) after being impressed with his fisticuff abilities. Unconsciously influenced by his own gullibility towards a temporary bliss of nightclubs, liquors and women, he went on with the flow. Little did he know that it will transform into a flood that will consume what is left of his simple sailboat unexpectedly adhered into a yacht of sin.

I do not want to delve into Phillip Salvador's scenery-chewing habit nowadays, but before, he was a damn great actor. And reflected by this film and "Bona", he is the most convincing of all Filipino actors to portray, then contrast, the transitional qualities of a house authoritarian (his character Poldo's erratic behavior in their house) and an idiotically-treated guard (just like how his complicated character in "Bona" changes effortlessly from being a dominant household slacker into a faceless action movie extra). Aside from the naivete which he depicted perfectly, there's one key sequence in the film which screenwriters Pete Lacaba and Ricky Lee have written with precise behaviors and wordings, and handled by Lino Brocka with an impeccable attention in mood-heightening.

It's a scene where Poldo's boss and his other rich friends visit their house located in the filthy slums for the fiesta. We see Poldo talking and acting frantically, ordering for the foods to be prepared, even shouting to his mother to move faster. Then he looks to his high brow visitors with an apologetic look and a controlled smile. Brocka emphasized Salvador's character to appear very diligent, not as a host, but as a lowly 'waiter'. Brocka caught his character's splitting persona (that of a house authoritarian and a servant) and enclosed it in the said sequence. To put these in such a brief moment in the film is truly masterful in the sense of how it was handled without such a simple scene looking over-treated.

Of course, "Jaguar" is primarily made for us viewers to care for Poldo the guard, but on the other hand, the film also reverses its focusing lens to glare at the obviousness of his numerous moral shortcomings. Do we sympathize with his predicament despite his initial patronization of the decadent glamors of the rich? Do we still care for him even though he has unconditionally bowed down to these people's ways? Those which led to his moral bondage? These questions were continually raised throughout the film, but again, like almost all great films, "Jaguar" never settled for any closed answers or absolute closures.

Poldo leaves his house straight-laced and seemingly looking for nothing but a steady pace of income. He crosses a plank slightly elevated from the filth of the dark waters of the sewers. Halfway, the plank falls down. Apathetically, he jumped the remaining distance into dry soil, without looking back, and into his work. If that's not foreboding, then I do not know. But only if he knew...

FINAL RATING