Bayaning 3rd World (Mike De Leon)

Marupok. Third class.

"Bayaning 3rd World", in a nutshell, tackles the grave dissonance that besets two filmmakers about whether or not a Jose Rizal movie is really worth making. Is Rizal really national hero-worthy, or is the much-talked about 'retraction' letter that he has supposedly written and signed before his execution enough to dethrone him of the honor? Eclectic Filipino filmmaker Mike De Leon, whose works range from the disturbing family drama "Kisapmata" to the outrageous "Kakakabakaba Ka Ba?" is the only one audacious enough to examine the Rizal myth with a sort of satirical glee. Originally, he is slated to direct a Rizal film starring Aga Muhlach, but when the project fell through, perhaps it dawned on him that a romanticized Rizal film is not what the country needs. Perhaps that episode of contemplation may have resulted to this. As what George R.R. Martin has once written (another instance when I'm quoting a famous literary figure just to sound smart): "Life is not a song, sweetling."

     

Reminiscent of how Orson Welles has, step-by-step, investigated the reason behind Charles Foster Kane's utterance of 'Rosebud' in "Citizen Kane", "Bayaning 3rd World" pushes aside all the nationalistic clichés that ornament Rizal's life to arrive at the very root of its own inquisition: Does Jose Rizal really deserve the endless veneration and, to a lesser extent, the immortalization of his mug in all those one-peso coins? Ricky Davao and Cris Villanueva, portraying the two filmmakers hungry for truth, further investigate, and the result is the kind that opens eyes.

     

Styled in a way that's very self-referential and postmodernistic, "Bayaning 3rd World" is equal parts emotional and comedic. From Rizal's mild-mannered brother Paciano (Joonee Gamboa) to his flame Josephine Bracken herself (Lara Fabregas), every character in Rizal's briefer than brief life had their say, in a series of loose faux interviews, about the national hero's ambiguous psychology and also about the controversial retraction letter, and whether there is indeed a possibility that Rizal has written and signed it himself, and sincerely at that, without the nefarious goading of several friars. 

     

The script (co-written by De Leon and Doy Del Mundo), on the other hand, is deliciously balanced both as a fairly radical comedy and as an involving period piece, which prevents the film from being overly ridiculous in its humor or being overly stern in its drama. While the accompanying performance by Joel Torre, who plays the said national hero in the film, exudes the needed vibrancy, insecurity and emotional torment to successfully pull off a memorable Rizal performance. Jose Rizal, after all, is a very flawed hero, but is that such a bad thing? 

In a way, as much as the film is a deeply investigative albeit playful exploration of Rizal's heroism, it also digs deep on our very own nationalistic consciousness, or on whatever's left of it, and makes us confront Jose Rizal in the same way how we may look at our own selves in the mirror to see all the grimy imperfections. I doubt that we can do the same after watching Marilou Diaz-Abaya's very polished but ultimately too safe "Jose Rizal" or Tikoy Aguiluz's too detached "Rizal sa Dapitan".

     

With "Bayaning 3rd World's" unexpectedly incisive attempt at honesty, I doubt that the people who have seen the film may look at Jose Rizal the same way again; that is, as a perfect Malayan who has done nothing worthy of reproach. The film may not be as big and sprawling as "Jose Rizal" or as picturesque and romantic as "Rizal sa Dapitan", but its uncommon stylistic approach and fascinating dissection of history are what make it very special. It's a film that's brave enough to question Rizal's heroism but is also assured enough to let us, the Filipino viewers who have forever lived in the shadows of his martyrdom, ultimately decide for ourselves on how we may see him. The film is, quite simply, a strange love letter to the life, love and heroism of Jose Rizal, but with a postscript that asks a pointed question or two.

FINAL RATING

 

Viridiana (Luis Buñuel)

Obsession and repression.

My dear readers, I am back (Well, let's just pretend that I do have some deeply-devoted few) and kicking again after some months of art film deprivation. Nevertheless, with my personal cinematic drive seemingly back in its groove (hopefully), I am then here to review and share my thoughts about "Viridiana", a film that marks my return, after the slightly numbing Academy Awards season and the draining toll inflicted by the academe, to the ever-loving cradle of what I really care about the most: world cinema. And to add a certain side idea, it's in fact the Lenten season, so my viewing of "Viridiana" is not at all random but is, in fact, of certain religious relevance, albeit a slightly irreverent one (I'm planning to rewatch "Life of Brian" within this week, by the way). 

     

Like majority of Luis Buñuel's creations, "Viridiana" is a comedic attack on Christianity and the bourgeoisie, but unlike his later, entirely elitist-lampooning satires like "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie" and "The Phantom of Liberty", "Viridiana" was also able to have enough time to examine the utterly savage tendencies of the unfortunate ones (in simple yet sad terms, 'paupers') when given enough wings to flap away from their plights. And although they were shown in the film as a genuinely sympathetic lot, Buñuel has also characterized them with a sort of fragile loyalty towards the proverbial hands that feed them, which makes the whole 'pity' thing towards them more weirdly elevated yet at the same time increasingly discomforting. 

     

Honestly speaking, although Buñuel, for me, is certainly one of the boldest filmmakers there ever was, I always thought that the satirical nature of his films are always steeped in utter partiality (sans "Los Olvidados, of course); that is to say that he always solely attacks the populace of high society, and we love him for it. But surprisingly, "Viridiana" is a deeply refreshing exception. 

     

Although the film itself is a dominantly psychosexual meditation on emotional repression that's centered mainly on the characters of Don Jaime (Fernando Rey), the melancholic widower, and Viridiana (the luminous Silvia Pinal), the soon-to-be consecrated nun, it was still able to successfully pass as a deliciously unnerving social satire that's centered upon the utterly self-destructive nature of altruism. In this regard, I am of course talking about Viridiana's unconditional assistance of the beggars (she has brought them to his Uncle Jaime's house after an unexpected tragedy), which has, sadly, backfired for the worse. Buñuel, in this film, is not much a surrealist but more of a highly-fevered and imagery-conscious social commentator who knows who to poke with his patented 'dig' (tickling but painful) in the ribs. The perennially humorless Catholic Church, which has officially denounced the film, has proven to be such an easy target. But ultimately, what is "Viridiana" really all about? 

     

In a way, like Buñuel's later, more fetishistic "Belle de Jour", it is about the pains of sexual repression. But what makes "Viridiana" different is how it has tackled such an issue in a way that subtly pinpoints religious hypocrisy as the culprit as to why it pervades existence. Yet in the end, the film still has enough discoursing power left to highlight the fact that an attempt at carnality still isn't the answer. And in an ending that is both dark and innuendo-laden, it is slightly suggested that sex, in such a context, is nothing but a savage trap; a superficial card game; a painful punch line. Such is the sad, sad comedy of existence, as seen through the camera lens of the very bold Luis Buñuel.

FINAL RATING

L'Age d'Or (Luis Buñuel)

Infamy.

A year after their aesthetically shocking "An Andalusian Dog", Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali, two of the most subversive minds in all of modern art, return to form with something that's infinitely more scandalous, blasphemous and, to the eyes of many during the time, even close to pornographic. In a way, "An Andalusian Dog", a boldly offensive film in its own right, is their comparatively tamer (and saner, even) dress rehearsal for this little bad boy, an epic (yes, I think so) 60-minute dissection of societal putrescence.

     

Although the film is comprised of surrealistic images that may or may not ultimately add up to one coherent message, the individual intrigue that the images were able to evoke are truly unnerving. In my personal view, the film's visuals, in all its take-no-prisoners lunacy, is one of the most spot-on recapturing of the social, psychological and romantic insanities of our times.  So yes, despite of the film's highly blasphemous thematic texture, "L'Age d'Or" can be ironically considered as a 'miraculous' achievement in modern cinema, especially considering the fact that both Buñuel and Dali, at the time, were not that acquainted to the rigors of filmmaking.

     

In simple description, the film, at least on surface level, is the story of how two lovers, because of numerous hindrances and disruptions, can't seem to consummate their sexual and romantic longings just like how the bourgeoisie people in "The Exterminating Angel" can't seem to get out of the room they're in or how they can't even seem to eat their meals in "The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie". Ultimately, it is in the middle of this kind of futility (specifically this film's two main characters and their misfiring attempts to be with one another) that both Buñuel and Dali were able to paint the landscapes of their film's masterful social probe. By penetrating the rotting core of what founds the pillars of religion, modern society and love itself, these two surrealistic bad boys were able to unearth, with unapologetic humor and shocking images, the intense perversity of human nature and its devastating consequences.

     

Often merely described as a surrealistic satire, I think that "L'Age d'Or" should be more aptly labeled as an anti-religious social nightmare that will make even the most apathetic member of the social populace cringe. Hell, more than 80 years have passed and I still think that this film is not for the faint of heart. After all, what do you expect if you merge the minds of Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali, an elegant costume drama? This film, just like the scorpions in its opening scene, may be too small in stature and short in length, but it sure profoundly stings.

FINAL RATING

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover (Peter Greenaway)

A gourmet parable.

Even before I became a full-fledged cinephile, I was already more than aware of the "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover's" notoriety as a taboo-breaking motion picture that navigates around the question of whether or not films with such abhorring themes can really pass as adequate art. For films like this, audience polarization is all but given. But with the history of cinema itself to finely attest and creations like "Pink Flamingos" and "Last Tango in Paris" as lasting proofs, only time can really tell if whether or not thematically questionable films may dwindle into obscurity or shine ever brighter. In "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover's" case and the two other aforementioned films, it's definitely the latter. Personally, only a few films have simultaneously left me in both revolting disgust and stunning awe; count this great, great film as one of the handfuls.

     

Directed by the subversive British filmmaker Peter Greenaway, "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover" is a poetic shock tale about infidelity, ruthlessness and revenge with a gourmet twist. Anchored by Michael Gambon's intensely frightening (yet also comedic) performance as the gangster cum restaurant owner Albert Spica and Helen Mirren's understated turn as his wife Georgina, the film often takes on a very stagy quality fitting of its highly surrealistic tone. Together, they have both showcased what I think are the best performances that I've seen in quite a while.

     

Right now, fresh from seeing Michael Gambon's wicked portrayal as Mr. Spica, it's really just quite hard to imagine that the very same actor has also more than convincingly played the post-Richard Harris Dumbledore in the Harry Potter film series. The same goes for Helen Mirren, who has just disappeared into the role of the very sensual Georgina that it's quite a tricky mind exercise to muster the fact that she still has enough acting skills (and insane at that) left to pull off the Queen of England herself in an Oscar-winning turn many years later.

     

But aside from the performances, that which also includes Alan Howard's realistic portrayal of Georgina's mild-mannered lover and Richard Bohringer's symbolic embodiment of the defiant chef, much is to be lovingly observed and deliciously absorbed in this film. One of them, although some may see it as a mere production foot note, is the exquisitely transitional costume design (done by Jean Paul Gaultier, whom, weird enough, I have first heard about in "American Psycho"), whose color-coded elegance contrasts with the film's visual and thematic depiction of decay. Oh and there's also the set design, which greatly detaches the film from the organic nature of reality, and the cinematography, an aspect that exceptionally characterizes the film with an ironic degree of formalism albeit its relentless display of grotesqueries.

     

In a nutshell, I think "The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover" can be simply sufficed as an operatic comedy of bizarre proportions. Yet on one hand, I think it can also be labeled as a humorously dramatic disembowelment of the superficiality of modern manners. But then, there's also, as what many has claimed, the film's supposedly metaphorical attack on Margaret Thatcher's politics. Though I am sadly quite ignorant of Thatcherism (but I do know of its strict adherence towards privatization among others), it is really not that hard to look beyond the surface of the film and unearth its underlying sociopolitical layer, what with its disturbingly symbolic depiction of the 'ruler' (Albert) and the 'ruled' (Georgina, the chef and all the other characters).

     

"The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover", despite of its satirical attack on Britain's political milieu at the time of its release, is still a timeless achievement in niche filmmaking, especially in how it has made the bizarre look tasteful and vice versa. Also, this is the first time that I have seen a film where infidelity was depicted as if justified, and its perpetrators not as advantageous offenders but as romantic heroes. Now, if only I can see this on the big screen…

FINAL RATING

 

The Dictator (Larry Charles)

Admiral General Aladeen.

After 3 years, Sacha Baron Cohen is back yet again with his comic shenanigans, but this time, it is on a bigger political scale. "The Dictator", a film that marks Cohen's third collaboration with director Larry Charles, is a gross-out satire of, obviously, everything dictatorial and politically unethical. But unlike "Borat" and "Bruno", "The Dictator" is visually more polished (mainly because of its bigger budget) and a tad more ambitious in scope. 

     

But then again, compared to the two earlier films, "The Dictator" is also quite forgettable. Sure, the trademark Sacha Baron Cohen comedy is still there, but the ingenuity and effortless wit seem amiss this time around. The politically incorrect jokes are spot-on yet there's something off in their deliveries. As one racial joke bombards the screen after another, I sure have let out some laughs, but they are ones that are hollow and abrupt. 

     

Although I wouldn't go to great lengths by describing the Cohen-Charles combo as a 'train finally running out of steam', I think that there's just a lack of general inspiration and twist in how the film was realized. It has sure made me laugh numerous times, but the jokes (especially the racial ones) are often generic and sometimes just plain bland. As far as I'm concerned, this is their weakest film yet in terms of comedy, but as a potent political satire, "The Dictator" is a bit of a success. The Cohen-Charles team seems to be humorously degenerating yet satirically improving with every film. Perhaps that's quite a consolation. 

     

With majority of current world news circling around controversial dictators from parts unknown and the quasi-humorous manias they so nonchalantly flaunt, it is inevitable for a comic provocateur like Sacha Baron Cohen to take on such a persona. Sporting an overly thick beard, a mock Middle Eastern accent and a complete lack of common human decency, he has transformed into Admiral General Aladeen: a monster of a dictator (of the fictional Republic of Wadiya) who orders murders at will and has a penchant for nuclear supremacy. By combining Borat's political tactlessness and social ineptitude with Bruno's vulgarity and sexual promiscuity, Sacha Baron Cohen was able to form the foundations of his Aladeen character, with some additional touches of 'control freak' wickedness. 

     

While this may not be Sacha Baron Cohen's best character (that would still go to Borat), his turn as Aladeen is still quite memorable because of the way he has displayed the humorous extent of how a man raised in an isolated manger of violent political power deals with the reality outside his own. The result may not have been the freshest in terms of execution, but nonetheless, there were flashes of comic brilliance all throughout the film that were relatively able to carry "The Dictator's" satirical weight. 

     

Compared to "Borat" and "Bruno", "The Dictator" is the closest that both Sacha Baron Cohen and Larry Charles can get to a narrative. But the way I see it, perhaps the film's adherence to a standardized plot is quite a disadvantage because Aladeen was utilized not as a freewheeling character much like Borat Sagidyev is but as a parody of a character who merely operates within the confines of a predictable narrative (notice how the film, as it progresses, slowly takes on a tone akin to a rom-com?). Although Aladeen as a character was in no way wasted, I think it's fair to say that his utmost potential as a riotously funny character was mostly left untouched. 

     

On the other hand, I have to give the rest of the cast lots of credits, especially Anna Faris and Jason Mantzoukas (with bits of Ben Kingsley) in how they have complemented Sacha Baron Cohen's often times overbearing presence. 

     

As a comedy film, "The Dictator" is too heavily flawed to be ranked shoulder-to-shoulder with the very masterful "Borat" (still Sacha Baron Cohen's best film). But as a no-holds-barred political satire, the film is very, very effective. I especially loved the scene where Aladeen and his nuclear scientist, Nadal (Jason Mantzoukas), are talking about innocuous things in their native language aboard a tourist helicopter when, suddenly, two tourists riding along with them mistake their conversation as an insidious plan to go 9/11 on the Empire State Building's ass. It is moments like this that makes "The Dictator" more special than it has any right to be. Oh, and also maybe Edward Norton's cameo.

FINAL RATING 

The Cabin in the Woods (Drew Goddard)

The cabin.

Now this is a big surprise. "The Cabin in the Woods", a film with zero hype, has unexpectedly turned out to be the best horror film that I have seen in a relatively long time because of the fact that it was not afraid to satirically articulate the numerous shortcomings of the horror genre while still being damn disturbing at the same time. I was highly impressed. 

The film, directed by Drew Goddard and written by Joss Whedon, is a true breath of fresh air in terms of vision and is also a tongue-in-cheek descent into the inner workings of the horror genre. Though some may be frustrated by the film's unconventionality, utter preposterousness and satirical intent, "The Cabin in the Woods", no matter where you may look at it, is pure horror entertainment. It's a half-serious genre pastiche directed towards the cliché-infested, 'more miss than hit' genre, but no one can deny the fact that it's also a glimmering tribute to its bloody wonders. Right now, I think it's fair for me to say that my faith in modern horror films, as of the moment, is once again restored. 

     

On top the film's cast of relative unknowns is actor Chris Hemsworth of "Thor" fame, whose character in the film, as far as horror movies are concerned, is that of the quintessential sports jock. To complete the line-up, we also have the dumb blonde (Anna Hutchison), the well-intentioned scholar (Jesse Williams), the comic stoner (Fran Kranz) and finally, the virginal heroine (Kristen Connolly). There's also Richard Jenkins and Bradley Whitford, whose roles as the fun-loving and highly desensitized technicians of the so-called 'system' are particularly memorable and also humorously potent. 

     

By making these five (the jock, the blonde, the scholar, the stoner and the virgin) act in a way that's irritatingly and irrationally familiar (their questionable preference to have sex deep within the woods in the middle of the night, for example), Goddard and Whedon were able to poke fun at the stereotypical character blueprints of a usual horror film (specifically the 'slashers') and were also able to express their take as to why it's always the jocks and the blondes et al. who are always on the receiving end of anything sharp and fatal. You'll definitely be surprised.  

     

Disguised as something disgustingly clichéd almost until the halfway mark, "The Cabin in the Woods" then suddenly lambasts you (and unapologetic at that) with the true nature of its narrative and, in the end, the beauty of its entertainingly theoretical take on why horror films seem to have a recurring blueprint. This is imagination at the height of bizarre audacity and vision at its wildest. You just have to see it for yourself. 

     

But aside from that, "The Cabin in the Woods", with its ambition and exaggerated vision, is also a testament of ingenious writing. Initially, I thought that nothing would ever come out of the horror genre ever again that hasn't been done before. I also thought that however original a horror film may strive to be, it will still come back to its formulaic roots one way or another. Well, I guess I was wrong. 

     

Writer Joss Whedon, although he has already proven his worth by directing that little film called "The Avengers", has shown here in "The Cabin in the Woods" that his capabilities both as a writer and director extend far beyond the trappings of costumed superheroes and whatnot. By way of this film, he has solidified himself as a pure creative force comparable to the earlier, more mischievous days of both Sam Raimi and Peter Jackson.   

     

"The Cabin in the Woods", a true sleeper hit, is one of the best and most entertaining horror films to come out for quite a while. It's a self-conscious horror masterwork in the same fashion as that of Wes Craven's "New Nightmare" and as gut-churning as Vincenzo Natali's "Cube". Who would have thought that a film mainly about a cabin, some Latin spells and a bunch of disposable lads and lasses would be able to encompass the horror genre's whole thematic plateau in such a way that's both thought-provoking and fun? The creators of "The Cabin in the Woods" have, and the result is an ingenious horror film that's surely destined to be a cult classic.

FINAL RATING

RoboCop (Paul Verhoeven)

Murphy.

Films like "RoboCop" are the prime reasons why the action scene of the '80s is truly the best there is. In a time where highly-paid action stars are being manufactured for the sake of non-stop, shallow-minded feast of blood, guns and guts, "RoboCop" stands tall as that rare work that mixes delicious satire, brutality and inspired originality in one action-packed entirety. 

It stars Peter Weller as Alex Murphy, an honest, hard-working Detroit police officer that was violently murdered in action by a ruthless gang led by the notorious Clarence Boddicker (Kurtwood Smith). But because of revolutionary technology, he was resurrected back to the land of the living hardly as a man anymore but as a law-upholding, well, as what the title suggests, robot. 

But wait, there's a catch right there: his memory box is not fully wiped out. So guess what? He wants revenge. Motown is in for a ride. 

Paul Verhoeven, a truly visionary action and science fiction filmmaker, is arguably at his definitive best here. Possessing a unique vision for action that certainly can't be surpassed even by today's standards, Verhoeven paints every action scene with an attention for the explosive and the absurd. His action sequences are those that are inclined to shock, to excite and even to put a sardonic smile in a viewer's face all in one stride. For instance, if some action films utilize blood squibs for the sake of enhancing the effect of a gunshot wound, "RoboCop" uses it in a more ironic fashion. The said prop has instead been used to enforce a more cartoonish depiction of violence, which is greatly significant for the film's prevailing satirical tone and its distinct comic book feel. 

So with that being said, what is it that "RoboCop" is satirizing then? Very much like Frank Miller's "The Dark Knight Returns", "RoboCop", finely written by Edward Neumeier and Michael Miner, ingeniously pokes fun at what news programs may look like in an unstable future: A short running time, a couple of all-smiling anchors and an overly feel-good atmosphere ironic to the news at hand. Oh, and did I mention that this film is also a slight attack towards capitalism and consumerism?

As seen in the film's numerous faux TV commercials, there's this unforgettable TV ad in "RoboCop" that shows the fictitious 6000 SUX (a new car model) immensely dwarfing a dinosaur (which, I don't know, may symbolize the olden, more innocent times of simpleton living). Such image proves that "RoboCop" isn't just an action vehicle that caters to audiences' need for some adrenaline rush but also a timely commentary to our declining discernment between need and want. 

In a few years' time, we may just as well buy everything that the television tells us to. The film capitalizes in this sort of pessimistic view of capitalism and misuse of the media and made quite an unforgettably satirical impression out of it. 

But aside from conceptual originality and an iconic RoboCop design (by Rob Bottin), which are the primary reasons why this film is highly successful and was even able to attain a cult following, another potent reason as to why "RoboCop" is truly special is because of the performances. 

Led by Peter Weller's restrained approach to the Alex Murphy character, the cast is simply terrific. Although the performances were in no way deep or complex, they were uncannily energetic enough for the film to maintain its entertainment level even without the high-powered action sequences. 

Take Miguel Ferrer as a great example. He plays the ambitious and bureaucratic Bob Morton who, despite of being a cold-blooded douche, made Murphy's transformation as RoboCop possible. Ferrer, in all of the scenes in which he is in, is armed with a great sense of timing and articulate unorthodoxy that it's entertainingly exhausting to watch him perform. 

Same goes for Kurtwood Smith as the villainous Clarence Boddicker, who is so good in playing a major villain here in "RoboCop" that he was offered an equally despicable role again in "Total Recall" (also directed by Verhoeven), only to turn it down. While Ronny Cox, playing Richard 'Dick' Jones, the vice president of the film's fictitious corporation named Omni Consumer Products (OCP), is the stereotypical image of a purely manipulative corporate villain. Although contained within the limitations of a generic character, Cox was able to squeeze out something special and distinctive from the role. As for Nancy Allen, she plays Murphy's partner on duty with pristine calm. She is the image of sanity in the film. 

For jaded viewers, it's difficult to distinguish the gold from the dung in a genre (in this case, action) that is more inhabited by the latter. For me, watching "RoboCop" renders this viewing cynicism as untrue. Even from afar, it's easy to see this film's golden makings as a true action masterpiece even if you put it in a damn septic tank. And despite of the occasional garbage that may surround it, its greatness shines forth through the heap. 

"RoboCop" is one of the best action films of all time, and unlike other action pictures of the same kind that were made solely for the specific era to which they belong, this film transcends time. It has aged supremely well, and its entertainment and shock factor are just as potent as they were almost 30 years ago. This is one for the books.

FINAL RATING

The Truman Show (Peter Weir)

A touch.

Our protagonist's name is Truman. Of course it's a play on the words 'true' and 'man', implying that he is the only person in his make-believe reality that is, well, living a genuine existence. But from that simple wordplay materializes a fascinating exploration of an individual's awakening consciousness in the midst of a soap opera-like artificiality. If ever you find out that the perceived life around you is nothing but a novel-length script and the people that surround you nothing but a mass collection of actors and bit players, would you lash out? If yes, won't you consider the utopia of a perfect life that it has got to offer? An existence where everyone is your friend and vice versa? A life without any blemishes save for the occasional ones of your own? This is what "The Truman Show" has raised with emotional wonder and revelatory humor, while adding up an unforgettably absurdist, over-the-top view of the advantageous inner core of media's wholeness. From that combination, the film, directed by Peter Weir and written by Andrew Niccol, which could have also been directed by Frank Capra and penned by Paddy Chayefsky (of "Network") in their heydays, is an optimistic, sometimes dramatic, at times laughably satiric contemporary classic whose spirit-soaring vibes only Hollywood can pull off. With enough visionary intent, that is.

"Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" proved that Jim Carrey is infinitely better in non-comedic roles and "The Truman Show" only furthered the fact. He plays Truman Burbank, the unknowing reality TV show personality, with perfect humor and pathos that combine to inspire empathy. And through his portrayal, he also ignites in the process the hidden paranoiac within us all. What if my whole family is unreal? What if they bring home groceries merely because of advertising commitments? You may say it's far-fetched, but it's a valid psychological condition, and it has a name ("The Truman Show Delusion", or simply, "The Truman Syndrome"). Now back to Jim Carrey's acting, his antics, exaggerated and all, is littered everywhere but were never the focus of the film. The laughs, although not as loud and boisterous as how a common comedy film would have evoked it, are much more rewarding.

It's never Jim Carrey all the time. No, it was not just him that produces the focal comedy, but the idea of his character's place and situation. Consider the scene where he's (as Truman) driving his car when suddenly the car radio goes out of frequency and unexpectedly feeds off a stoic, trained narration/instruction of his present place and the street he is currently driving through. He then reacts with sublime surprise far from his usual face-distorting persona that made him a household name. But nevertheless, we laughed. I laughed. The crew's technical glitches, Truman's ever-smiling, by-the-book wife Meryl (impressively played by Laura Linney), even the countless advertisements in between Truman's life. Sure, there is Jim Carrey and his embodiment of a modern cinematic funnyman in the center, but "The Truman Show", with its knock-out visual splendor, energy and existentialist views, extracts its comedy from endless sources other than its central actor. That is one of the instances where the richness of a material really shows. It's got a scene-stealing actor headlining, but the film never delved to fully capitalize on him. Its foundations are indeed strong enough and the film preferred it for Carrey to purely act and embrace Truman Burbank and not the other way around. The latter would have been too distracting.

But I have to admit, I have raised an eyebrow on some of the technologies used in the film, notably the water and wind-controlling system that simulates a storm and the artificial moon that serves as the night light of Truman's town and also harbors the ubiquitous Christof (the ever-reliable Ed Harris), the puppet master of it all, and his crew. The concept of that particular control room is too visually excessive that they look more like megalomaniacal Bond villains than TV show staffs. But looking at both sides, that brief complain of mine can also be counterpointed by the fact that "The Truman Show" IS a satire, and also, maybe because the film is consciously set in a not so distant future with an ambiguous time frame so creation of things bordering implausibility are completely acceptable.

"The Truman Show" is and always will be a perennial feel-good movie, with Jim Carrey showing his competence on playing a transcendent character that reminds a lot of Jimmy Stewart's unique everyman appeal. But beyond the laughter and tears, the film is also a fascinatingly original depiction of what mainstream media has ultimately become, from its initial innocence to its present condition almost completely akin to gratuitous voyeurism. It shows the bastardization of entertainment and its toll on its unaware and unwilling participants. And with that, "The Truman Show", made in 1998 some years before the true boom of reality shows, is indeed quite prophetic. Ed Harris' Christof a mirror of TV's "Big Brother"? Who would have known?

FINAL RATING

Kakabakaba Ka Ba? (Mike De Leon)

The fumbles of the Yakuza. The desperate awkwardness of Chinese determination. The insidious depiction of Catholic nuns and priests. I think it's a great decision for Mike De Leon, one of the Philippines' greatest filmmakers, to put a film prioritizing such themes in a not-so-serious environment where anyone at anytime (although especially in the climax) can break into production numbers. In spirit, "Kakabakaba Ka Ba?" is, like "The Rocky Horror Picture Show", an unexpectedly bizarre adventure into the illegal and the unknown for two uninitiated couples, or at least, love birds. But in its entirety as a film, it is a sharp satire about how these underworld dwellers seem to have all the fun in the world, forming sinister plans, dancing their way into drug production and superficially praising God's daily bread.

And with a sense of bumbling lack of control, the film has expressed these mindless chases for grotesque pleasures and taboo in a happy, energetic and strangely harmonious light that we question its unusual tone. But I believe De Leon and screenwriters Doy Del Mundo and Racquel Villavicencio knew more. That 'question' makes the film. It evaluates our response to its display of romanticized moral disregard. With quirkiness, music and a slip-in psychedelia on the side.

The film's MacGuffin is unique enough: a cassette tape cum opium container. It was unwittingly put into one of our protagonists' (played by Christopher De Leon) jacket by the Yakuza errand man Omota, one-dimensionally played by APO's Boboy Garovillo (although may be the exact intent). Through that performance, it transforms foreign smuggling into a Wile Coyote-like affair, with occasional busts and foils treated as nothing but episodic humor and successes immediately countered by funny miscalculations. In an early scene, the film even pokes fun to the fatal culture of the said Japanese crime syndicate when failure hits the fan through cutting of fingers, shown in a flat screen television sticking out from a Shoji screen. The film's tongue was really that immersed on the cheek.

The lovebirds mentioned earlier were played by Christopher De Leon, Jay Ilagan, Charo Santos and Sandy Andolong. Their performances were quite enjoyable, but that's where the script shows its contrivance. At certain points, they ride into dialogues not by means of natural flow but through conversational timings that were obviously rehearsed and coordinated. At least they could have applied some of Bunuel's passively comic treatments to satiric characters that were always proven to be very effective. But still, I have to praise Mike De Leon and company for creating such a different film in our local industry that seems to live and die on melodrama.

By the standards of our movies, "Kakabakaba Ka Ba?" is utterly subversive, with radical attacks ranging from gangsterism to the Catholic church's hypocrisy, while it also brought forth a notion that musical can quite fit as a narrative crescendo to such a wide-tackling satire. But maybe it's also an easy way to visually portray what they really wanted to: The crazy, megalomania-inspired higher ones' intent to control people through the, symbolically, 'opiate of the masses' that is mainstream religion, as coined by Karl Marx (furthered by how Pinoy Master (Johnny Delgado) wants to produce mass wafers mixed with opium to be given to church-goers). So, after all, there's some ounces of critical inputs in the film, too.

I must admit, I did not like "Kakabakaba Ka Ba?" that much compared to Mike De Leon's masterpiece "Kisapmata", arguably the best Filipino film ever made, and "Batch '81". But I love the way the film has ended. Dancing nuns. A singing drug kingpin. A samurai duel. With a unique approach to the final wedding scene, the film embraced some sort of a Jodorowskian afterthought.

After a two hour run of exhilarating imagery and peculiar performances, a crew, holding a clapper, suddenly shouts "Cut!" and the camera zooms out from above, exposing the band playing the musical score to only be a few feet away from the actual scene. It fully echoes Alejandro Jodorowsky's "Holy Mountain" and its most memorable character, the Alchemist's immortal line: "Real life awaits us". Well, let's break the illusion then, shall we?

FINAL RATING

Bruno (Larry Charles)

Sacha Baron Cohen back to his good ol' shenanigans.

Film Review Archive (date seen: December 8, 2010)

It was 2006 and I'm in high school when I've first watched "Borat" and liked it very much as I haven't seen anything quite like it before. "Borat's" satirical and distorted view of America in the eyes of an innocent Kazakh reporter was very original and rather quite repulsive that I knew by that period of time that nothing will surpass its extreme displays of political incorrectness and offensiveness.

Then fast forward to 2009, masterminds Sacha Baron Cohen and director Larry Charles conceived yet another "shockingly hilariously shocking" (yes, I'll put 'shocking' into repetition) persona in the fashion-clad guise of Bruno, a mock Austrian homosexual reporter bent on becoming world famous, find out the ropes of how to become one, and tread sensitive issues such as terrorism, race and the virtue of sexual preferences among others.

"Bruno" may not be necessarily better than "Borat"; I even thought that I can nitpick what's scripted from what's not quite easily. But "Bruno's" satire, although very graphic in nature, encompasses wider subjects, dealt with them with sharpness and straight-to-the-point vulgarities that it came out as a fuller film to properly convey Baron Cohen's twisted comic vision of this world: A place filled with self-righteous euphemisms, pseudo-ideal sanctions and infested with hypocrisy.

One memorable scene though, the scene where Bruno (or Straight Dave) had an explicit reconciliation with Lutz, his assistant's assistant, in a UFC-like arena to the tone of "Titanic's" "My Heart will Go on". It's just ironic that a theme song of one of the most memorable heterosexual love stories on film is used as a musical backdrop of a not so subtle display of homosexuality. Only Sacha Baron Cohen has the outright guts to put all of this on celluloid, stay in character as long as it takes, and release it 'mainstream'. Get it. 'Mainstream'. Risky as hell.

FINAL RATING

The Crazies (Breck Eisner)

'Excuse me. I really need a ride into town'.

Film Review Archive (date seen: October 24, 2010)

One of those well-made horror-thriller remakes considered superior to the original (the others I can think of were "The Hills Have Eyes" and "The Last House on the Left"). Though I thought a sheriff as a protagonist (played by Timothy Olyphant) was an obvious, immediate choice to fill in the shoes of the central character, it was performed well by Olyphant, and though his physical stature may easily belong to that of a larger-than-life hero (remember, he played "Agent 47"), he has added a considerable amount of vulnerability, giving the "edge-of-your-seat" factor a notch higher than the usual.

Its title "The Crazies" is more or less an eponym of the film's abhorring, almost mutant-like killers, but may also pertain to the military itself, playing god with science, only unleashing hell afterwards.

The original "The Crazies" was made way back in 1973, but when you look at it, although how extreme the treatment of the film has been, it's also a sharp, fear-inducing social satire much relevant today as it was 37 years ago. Think about it. "Biological Weapon". "Genocide". Much, much more, isn't it?

FINAL RATING