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

Serbis (Brillante Mendoza)

Familial reality amidst immorality.

Film Review Archive (date seen: December 12, 2010)

I have to say that Brillante Mendoza’s “Serbis” is slightly better than his more renowned (and at the same time, denounced) “Kinatay”. In some ways, “Serbis’” cinematography, acting, and subplots were the collective product of what could be Brillante’s personal vision of Philippine society and familial relations that has been distributed rationally to his other earlier films: “Tirador’s” biting humor, “Kaleldo’s” character interactions and mild sepia cinematography, the escalating darkness that his later film “Kinatay” has embarked on, and even “Masahista’s” literal sexuality.

The ensemble cast was also very impressive in their uncanny degree of suppressing any screen inhibitions, be it about showing their skin, or acting as a credible, functioning family while immersing themselves into the decaying backdrop of a filthy ‘bold’ theater. It was almost unbelievable for the whole cast to pull off such a film without going as far as the extremities Nagisa Oshima has reached and the cost of what cinematic taboo he had broken to show a sociopolitical allegory. Brillante Mendoza has also able to incorporate his usual fascination of religious traditions; imageries that might have been inserted just for the sake of it, or can also be visual antidotes to the sinful displays on his films.

Notable performances were by Gina Pareno as the theater-inhabiting family’s matriarch, and Julio Diaz as the awkwardly unknowing husband of Nayda (played by Jaclyn Jose). It’s just refreshing to see a film that has brought a pitiful place such as a decaying ‘bomba’ moviehouse into cinematic life (a place whose only common attribution is to “Imbestigador”), put it in the center of a neorealist drama, and let its pathetic and dissident inhabitants dwell on the establishment’s sleazy imperfections; an uncanny likeness to their own lives indeed.

FINAL RATING

Kinatay (Brillante Mendoza)

Brillante's 'Inferno'.

Film Review Archive (date seen: November 7, 2010)

"Kinatay" is one of my 'quiet' must-see films not just because of the Cannes directorial prize it has garnered, but also because of Brillante Mendoza's experimental style of filmmaking, which I reckon to be a refreshing touch to an industry pestered with endless recyclable ideas for movies to pass as 'blockbusters'.

For the initial sequences, Brillante never bothered for sound editing, but instead used the seemingly nuisance-like sounds (the assorted voices of people, jeepneys) to his advantage, transforming it with true verite' ability into an element to breath character into the film as a whole.

But as it gradually enters the realm (the reality of violence and corruption) of the theme which it is pointing to the entire time, "Kinatay's" whole visual and sound texture also becomes different; its realistically colorful display of everyday life in the slums which suggests some hints of momentary gayness turns into a symbolic descent into the netherworld of crimes and profanities (not even bothering about geographical correctness) filled with darkness and aural ambiguities.

Yet Brillante Mendoza's extreme inclination to portray psychological forebodings is also the film's major weakness. Though this might not be a problem for experienced film watchers, this particular slow build-up betrayed its main theme that when the film finally got to where it wanted to be, the audience may already be exhausted and disinterested that they may just accept the violent display merely as a "shock value", when it could have been taken in as a more profound inquiry into the moral consequences of violence. In some ways, this film reminds me of the main exposition of Coppola's "Apocalypse Now", only this time, there's no Kurtz to kill, but a morality to waste based on a decision ultimately driven by the short-lived promises of monetary gain.

FINAL RATING

City After Dark (Ishmael Bernal)

A glimpse of death.

Film Review Archive (date seen: September 30, 2010)

Before our film industry has turned into the mainstream disappointment that it has been today, masters like Ishmael Bernal strengthened the industry's foundations, not by big-budget films that boasts of colorful, shallow nationalism, but supported its pillars with 'critical bravery'; exploring the themes, subjects, and immoralities in a time of modernistic bondage of expressive sovereignty (Marcos era).

I've always conditioned my mind that "Maynila: Sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag" is the best film to ever portray the eponymous capital of the Philippines. But witnessing this work for the first time, it has altered my perception of the Lino Brocka classic and at the same time "City After Dark", for me, has immediately entered the realms of being one of the "definitive" Filipino films with the highest artistic control.

But do not get me wrong, "Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag" offered an unforgettably painful look of the city from the eyes of, putting it bluntly, an alienated 'promdi'. It's a film that steers raw emotions, and at times slips into complete melodrama. But "City After Dark" may have been the opposite; it explores apathy in the midst of moral decadence and hysteria without offering much mercy.

There are moments in the film where the characters asks each other artificial questions like "Do you really love me?", or "Will you really marry me?". They're not honest queries, but merely asked so to pass the time. And though same questions may have come from sincere hearts, it's beyond their grasp. Manila's too busy a city to provide secure answers.

FINAL RATING