The romantic comedy is the weakest and laziest genre around today, perhaps even more so than horror remakes. There are only a handful of formulas that are repeated with only the tiniest bit of effort. First, there's the lie plot, in which one character can't tell the other character the truth for fear of some terrible consequences. Then there's the supernatural romantic comedy, in which some magical circumstances lead someone to true love. Perhaps worst of all are the meet-hate movies in which two people spend the entire movie fighting before falling in love. Rare are the movies in which two people simply struggle with the stupid, complicated problems of everyday life, such as personal experience and emotional wounds. Writer and director Jose Javier Reyes' Bukas na Lang Kita Mamahalin (Viva Films, 2000) is such a movie. One would be hard-pressed to expect much from an Angelu de Leon-Diether Ocampo vehicle centered on a gimmicky friends-with-benefits exploration. But Reyes maintains a buoyant tone throughout, capturing millennial life with squeaky clean affection for the city’s perfectly manicured delights. Caustic before gradually letting down its defenses, Bukas na Lang Kita Mamahalin is as exceedingly modern in its premise as it is traditional in its destination. True love, no matter how it might begin, is funny like that. In bringing together Abby (De Leon) and Jimboy (Ocampo), first as acquaintances, then as bedmates, then as potentially something more, the picture confidently does so without much tug or pull on the screenplay's natural feel, low-key tone and frequently very amusing sensibilities. Abby and Jimboy are smart, ambitious individuals—but they're also engaging, unpretentious and just the kind of characters one is happy to watch for the better part of two hours.
They're not above enacting mistakes—Abby long ago put up a tough exterior for her family and now, as an adult, is having trouble letting this go for the chance to be genuinely happy—but the decisions they make and actions they take feel believable rather than as a strained excuse to merely bring conflict to the story. We don't always relate to Abby's point of view, but we understand it, just as we understand why Jimboy is so hurt when he tries to express himself and is shot down. De Leon adjusts nicely to her more humor-based surroundings—she unexpectedly garners quite a few laughs—she also takes the part of Abby just as seriously. Ocampo is on more familiar terrain as Jimboy. He has played this kind of role—more often than not, but if he is left generally unchallenged, that doesn't take away how good he is at it. Indeed, Ocampo meets De Leon step for step and the two of them have an infectious camaraderie that really leaves one caring about them. The first official date they go on is lovely in the way it pays attention to them and their behavior. Even when Abby is saying that she doesn't want things to go further, you know that she really does. Also a bright spot in the furthering of their relationship comes when Jimboy agrees to go with Abby to meet her father, Filemon (Celso Ad Castillo); where this scene goes is both immensely sweet and hugely funny. Side parts in this type of movie are usually throwaways, mostly consisting of friends and family whose sole job is to be confided in by the main characters. One after the other, they blow in and without seeming to even try, threaten to steal the show. The irresistible Tessie Tomas and perfectly acerbic Nikka Ruiz are a treat as Helen, Abby's mother and gal pal, Maricel, who gets a laugh with nearly every line she delivers. Bukas na Lang Kita Mamahalin is all about the journey, not the destination. Reyes avoids pandering to viewers the way most romantic comedies do—instead, he centers on the humanity within his characters.
Production Designer: Jake de Asis
Director of Photography: Eduardo Jacinto, FSC
Music: Jesse Lucas
Editor: Vito Cajili
Sound Supervision: Albert Michael Idioma
Written and Directed By: Jose Javier Reyes
