Gummo (Harmony Korine)

Werner Herzog: "This is the entertainment of the future."

The nothingness of nothing, the meaninglessness of conformism, and the ennui of existence. Sounds like the last thing for a film to be made about, right? But then there is "Gummo", a film that tackled these with such surreal handling and awkward storytelling (that mirrors the film's essentially subversive yet minimalist approach) that, although polarizing, it has nonetheless shared such an abstract yet endlessly intriguing piece of mind extracted out of some trashed and dilapidated obscurity.

The film, although revolving around different misadventures of the tornado-stricken town's (Xenia, Ohio) juvenile inhabitants and is also seemingly at ease with its own lack of direction, its focus rests deeply upon friends/partners in crime Solomon (Jacob Reynolds) and Tummler (Nick Sutton) and their several miscellaneous exploits and small transgressions. But then, although they were the ones that were chiefly followed by the camera all throughout, its ADD is still very much evident, so why is that?

'That's what it needs', Director Harmony Korine may and could have said regarding Gummo's visual and narrative style. No, not just because of glorified 'pretense': that's too vague and generalizing a word. More than anyhing else, perhaps because it complements its characters' urban journey through whatnots and into wherevers perfectly. It dared to observe this psychologically chaotic state brought forth by a natural disaster (though I think the film is not about its traumatizing effects) with a certain amoral viewpoint.

Now, I'm almost halfway done with my review yet I still haven't written anything about what the film is really all about aside from all those pseudo-nihilistic themes mentioned in the very first sentence. But here we go, a piece of my mind.

(SPOILERS)

I look upon "Gummo" not as a film dealing with the devastating after-effects of a catastrophic tragedy but as a sharply satiric, yet thematically contrasting piece of work about the endpoint of human entropy. Throughout the film, we see all these people punching each other (genuinely), wrecking inanimate tables and chairs, and even spouting racial slurs. As we adjust into the film's confused perspective, we realize that it's their way of life, and sensitization is never one of their goals.

At first look, it's really hard to notice anything even remotely profound about the whole film, but digging deeply enough, I even found the 'feline torture fixation' prevalent in the teenagers' (especially Solomon and Tummler) set of daily activities as a surprising symbolism.

The cats are the representations of an 'orderly' life. There's one scene where Tummler is about to shoot a black cat dead, only to be talked out of it by Solomon, telling him that it's a 'house cat'. The cat then ran inside the house. Later, it was immediately revealed that its owners are three sisters that, although eccentric, live a considerably simple, relatively manicured life.

Considering that many of the juvenile characters are into killing cats, it's quite given that, based on their absurd preferences, their lives are therefore rendered directionless by their penchant for destroying these 'guardians of homes' (an Ancient Roman symbol for felines).

Then after some time, the sisters lost the black cat. They printed out fliers to distribute to people in the hopes of finding the animal. But the next thing they knew, they are being sexually harassed (unsuccessfully) by an old man in a car. Yes, the deed was prevented, but it was a shape of things to come.

The next thing we see, the two of the three sisters are already half-submerged in a pool and making out with the Bunny Boy (played by Jacob Sewell, another significant character whose place in the film is really very unclear), all while a potentially heavy rain (and a menage a trois) waits on the wings. After that, there's Solomon and Tummler staring at the said 'missing' animal with cocked cap guns. They then shot the 'black' cat dead. And in the film's most haunting moment, the Bunny Boy then shows the deceased animal directly into the camera as if proclaiming another conquest. It turns out, this so-called conquest was the three naive sisters, which are finally convinced to join in the free-for-all ride towards nihilism.

Aside from that, I also like how "Gummo" was able to convey, in utter simplicity, the sheer innocence of the mentally disabled, especially the scene of the 'challenged' woman near the end talking about how she loves to take care of her dolls and toys because she wants them "straightened out".

Because of her lack of idea of the psychological milieu around her, she is therefore very much living an 'orderly' life, fully suggested by how she sings the ever-organized 'ABC' song near the beginning. And even after all of the random acts committed by the apocalyptic characters who all want to waste away in their private wasteland of Xenia, the woman still found the time to sing "Jesus Loves Me" while she's calmly lying in her bed for a peaceful sleep.

"Gummo": started up rough, ragged, and tasteless, but ended as a simple embrace of the old adage "Ignorance is bliss". As her song lingers in the end credits, a heavy metal music suddenly interrupts it; we're back in reality.

FINAL RATING

Moon (Duncan Jones)

'I've done something like this before.'

A Second Viewing.

Clones and artificial intelligences on films, although must not even be extracting discoveries of human nature aside from their clockwork selves in the first place, are, time and time again, tested by the burden of emotional conflicts and the endless quest to belong. Be it the great "Blade Runner" or Spielberg's more contemporary "A.I". We have seen them strive from the pains of misunderstanding and perceptions of technological stigma seen from sociologically-grounded eyes. Here in "Moon", with Sam Rockwell delivering a one-man virtuoso performance, the further extremities are reached; they are even deprived of mainstream reality.

I think it's quite impossible to review and analyze this film without divulging some plot revelations or two, so here we go, spoiler warning. Sam Bell (Rockwell) is an astronaut near the end of his 3-year contract and is about to come home and away from the lunar solitude of the moon. After some startling discoveries, he found out that he, although how confident, is not what he may seem to be. When he saw his fellow clone, at first, he is in denial. He initially asserts that it's nothing but a delusion. They found out that the real Sam Bell has returned to earth for many years. Instead, they have been developed from the original's DNA for the Lunar Industries company to save expenses from man power. Their innocence is the companies' assets, their awareness of it all is a grave liability.

Then the two Sam Bell clones saw more 'Sam Bells' underneath a secret room waiting to be awakened, as if frozen goods in a morgue. After their identity conflicts and superficial fights, the two Sam Bells called it quits. They're after all, riding the same boats and braving the same chained limitations of complete anonymity.

With the help of Clint Mansell's subtly rousing score, ethereal and all, and Duncan Jones' reflective direction regarding his honest commentary about the staggering effects of unreachable memories and make-believe psychological realities , "Moon" appeared to be the most eloquent and even poetic of all sci-fi films for a considerably long time to ironically depict the strength and warmth of human nature in the most artificial of physical bodies and the most remote of places.

'We're people', the second Sam Bell (at least in the narrative's exposition) told GERTY, his loyal A.I. assistant (voiced by Kevin Spacey) that is the complete polar opposite of "2001's" "HAL". The words, however simple, reminded them of what they are. Although true human emotions aren't given to them by birthright but merely implanted, they have proved with their evocative bond that they have certainly earned it.

Duncan Jones brought us a film that shows how 'clones' invest tears on memories. Then subsequently, how memories inspire pathos. Although "Moon" is a fairly simple story about what it takes to be human, it's also about the true blue power of emotions and cherished pasts.

It is from these that the unknowing clones squeezed out their existential goals and validated their humanity. But ultimately, it is also from those that the film itself has empowered the beauty of human nature with great transcendence. A 'nature' that leaped limitless boundaries and into the far side of the moon; a place where it has evolved into its truest form.

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

True Romance (Tony Scott)

Into Hollywood with an agenda of their own.

Although directed by Tony Scott, "True Romance" is, from all sides, taken over by Quentin Tarantino's (who have written the screenplay along with Roger Avary) trademark brushstrokes of unrelenting references to B-movies, stylishly vulgar dialogues and killer MacGuffins. The film is also a perfect ensemble exercise of character acting, featuring such greats as Christopher Walken, Dennis Hopper, Gary Oldman and a whole lot of others.

Clarence and Alabama, whose relationship was described almost sarcastically in the film's very title, were perfectly played with the needed air of 'go for luck', 'not a care in the world', 'against all odds' romance by both Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette. Now, when I look back at the very beginning, I think that the complications ironically came from the very manifestation of love between the two itself. When I heard Alabama deliver the line 'It was so romantic' after (SPOILER) Clarence killed Drexl her pimp, they surely are in for some romantic distortions, and so are we.

It all began when Clarence, all alone in a triple billing theater watching Sonny Chiba's (used later by Tarantino as Hattori Hanzo in "Kill Bill") movies, was suddenly covered with popcorn (yes, it was THAT cheesy) via Alabama's clumsy slip. After a small talk, they went for a pie, read some comic books and, as expected, into the anticipated heat of the night.

However, it was then revealed that everything, from the initial encounter (explaining the popcorn trick) up to their sexual climax, were planned and that Alabama was hired by Clarence's boss for his birthday. But then, Alabama was guilty. They hugged each other. After the artificial fling, still, love it really was indeed.

From those basic blueprints, one can see how these initial sequences can also properly fit within the premise of a tiring mid '90s comedy romance film (an everyman falling for a prostitute with a heart). But with brash Tarantino with the pen and action stylist Tony Scott at the helm, expect this romantic idealism be unraveled, be taken down piece by piece, then be put back together. We got here a turbulent love story.

With the help of the cocaine MacGuffin and some satiric intent, "True Romance" also fearlessly entered a part of Hollywood's immoral side, the retaliative urgency of the mob and the egotism in the police division not just to serve as morally imperfect backdrops for Clarence and Alabama's romance but also to give an inexorable portrait of human desperation and the intertwining of situational fates.

And even though I think that the film's climax was a bit rushed and too 'explosive' that it almost seems out of place in great contrast to its carefully progressive, well-written narrative establishment, nevertheless, the film has delivered enough goods to be considerably well-remembered as a high-notched blazing craziness that fully belongs to both the crime and romance genre.

Oh, and you want a definition of pure cinematic gold? Take note of the Sicilian scene. Hopper and Walken on a verbal dance of fear-inducement and sarcasms. Astounding. Just astounding. And after writing this, I've stumbled upon a "True Romance" film review describing the particular scene with the same, exact word (astounding) as I've used. Oh, the beauty of appreciative coincidence.

FINAL RATING

Thelma & Louise (Ridley Scott)

Awaiting a grotesque.

Not much of a stranger to woman empowerment due to his strong heroine in the form of Ellen Ripley in "Alien", Ridley Scott got this optimistic feminine absolute out of the infinite confines of outer space and brought it closer to home and into a more realistically compelling social milieu in "Thelma & Louise", an essential piece of feminist cinema that has paved way for other similar films to be accepted as mainstream expressions of the thematic core that is the emotional unraveling of women.

The film initially unfolds with the titular characters' slightly daring attempt to elude the exhausting and tightening grip of the male-dominated order of life, so they planned to get away for a temporary vacation for some R&R. In a brief moment, as Thelma prepares, she saw a gun inside her drawer (as I have found out, this narrative technique is called a "Chekhov's Gun"). Without any attention to details, she quickly puts it into her bag. Director Ridley Scott shot this brief scene without any foreboding of sorts. He downplayed the whole moment with some (as I recall) considerably, soothingly adventurous background music, making us join the whole emotional road trip from the start like nothing out of the usual is expected and things won't even go into the slightest hint of ominousness.

Suddenly, Thelma was sexually harassed in the parking of a bar and Louise then shot the attacker. They fled the scene (Do not worry, those are nothing but basic narrative expositions seen in almost all of the film's plot description; it's not a 'you've taken away a part of me'-type spoiler) and from that point on, it's not much of a reality-grounded story than it is an arresting commentary about the current state of women in the social hierarchy and a de-objectifying adventure of two carefree, defiant souls who try to unconsciously teach some male grotesques an overdue lesson or two.

It starred Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon as Thelma and Louise, respectively. From the film's halfway and beyond, their performances display somewhat a sense of fluid rebellion and uninhibited aggression. As they run for their lives and from captivity, they also slowly come to terms with their fate as their plan into Mexico fades. And no, it's not a kind of reckless desperation commonly displayed by hardened outlaws, but more of a series of acts performed so their presence can be felt, albeit the barren landscapes, as they flap their wings to fly against the winds of conformity (I've already used that 'winds' thing on my "Easy Rider" review, but that does not necessarily suggest that "Thelma & Lousie" is strictly an emergent counterculture fare) and into a cathartic landscape of emotional freedom. The film is also surrounded by strong supporting performances by Harvey Keitel, a surprisingly tender Michael Madsen, a young Brad Pitt and consistently dependable character actors Stephen Tobolowsky ("Memento's" Sammy Jankis) and Christopher McDonald.

Wherever I may really look at it, "Thelma & Louise" shouts of Cheris Kramarae's Muted Group Theory with all of its radical upper-handedness and shared thoughts and ideas about feminism. But I also think of the film as a tragic yet sweet observation about repression, scarred pasts and hope regardless of its backdrop that is seemingly an ode to expressive crimes.

But through all the two main characters' critical violations of both the established social norms and grips of the law, Thelma Dickinson and Louise Sawyer stayed true to themselves and their companionship. They might have gotten too far at some point in their journey (but can be particularly blamed to their awkward decisions and other people's utter provocations), but they embraced the fact that their uncommon Thunderbird journey to hesitate the chains of social stereotypes and get away from their criminal liabilities wasn't an instinctive transgression but a compulsive expression. After all, they just wanted to fly.

As I watch "Thelma and Louise", I expected an encapsulating crime tragedy like that of the same dually-titled "Bonnie and Clyde". I never thought that it will be such an exhilarating, contemplative, even inspiring piece of road trip cinema.

FINAL RATING

'Merika (Gil Portes)

Contemplating a decision.

Combining suspicious love with the sentiments and longing of America-dwelling Filipinos whose minds and hearts continually goes through conflicts of decisions, some slight politics that highlights helpless idealism and the brewing turmoil of 80's Philippines, you get "'Merika". It stars Nora Aunor and Bembol Roco, which gave effectively contrasting performances regarding the different sides of state of minds of Filipinos on foreign lands.

We see Bembol's character Mon embrace and patronize the commercial and financial advantages of living in 'Tate' with some sort of distorted pragmatism, even going as far as calling the Philippines as an 'impractical hell'. This is where Bembol Roco really shined through the whole film. He displayed this closeted arrogance and colonial mindset with suppressed aggressiveness. He announces his extreme admiration with the American way of life with depleted shouts and air of mystery, fancying wines yet with glaring eyes that suggests something ominously deficient in his wholeness: He does not have any legal papers.

I cannot say that he is the direct antagonist of the film; his Mon is a very complicated character trapped in a situation that he is willing to get out of but has seemingly accepted a long time ago. He goes on a cycle of foreign existence, treading luxuries of expensive wines and credited cars. Yet, I still think he wants love more than anything else; it's just that he's too consumed by the minute details of the ideal, commercial western lifestyle that he considers the rest of his narrow world nothing more than minuscule.

Even before Mr. Bembol Roco triggered his persona as a stereotypical villain, psychotically speaking, of Philippine cinema, I think this is his most ambiguously villainous performance in the sense of how his character considerably preys on everything advantageous, yet through his eyes, there's a hint of a primordial defeat. In a sense, he has embraced not just the entirety of the American way, but also his embittered helplessness. Finding Mila (Nora Aunor's character), he located a two-way victory: Easy romance and his papers. His two ways versus her existential crossroad.

Nora Aunor's Mila is a striving nurse that gets more than enough income but less than enough sense of belonging. Again, like most of her characters on screen, Mila is torn between the budding idea of love (that teeters between quiet desperation and sexual victory) and a clamor for the true one (the Philippines. Yes, sentimental it maybe, but it's how it is) she has left behind. Mila is, in some ways, the 'Dorothy' to America's 'Oz'. She discovered the ease of income, the company of some friends, and the pure wonder of commercialism at its peak, like how Dorothy befriended some colorful eccentrics and established herself as a figure for the further adventures of the yellow brick road.

It may seem unsound to compare a timeless fantasy tale to a film dealing with the confusion of one's foreign integration, but it's the first analogy that came into my mind. And though 'Oz' came out much more colorful than the sepia-toned Kansas, Dorothy couldn't have said it better: "There's no place like home."

"'Merika", penned by Doy Del Mundo Jr. and Gil Quito and directed by Gil Portes, does not necessarily discourage those trying their lucks to align themselves with the promises of 'Tate'. It has shown different perspectives, and though Mila, the chief protagonist, ultimately came into a critical decision, the film strengthened its stance that it was her choice and hers alone; the film instead divulge the idea of easement and hope and the grounded summation that individualism and a concrete goal are the ones that are truly vital against alienating anxieties more than anything else. With that thematic direction, I think "'Merika" highly succeeded.

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