DARING AND ORIGINAL


     In May-December-January (Viva FIlms, 2022) Ricky Lee and McArthur C. Alejandre create an emotional and dramatic spaciousness making a far richer, more provocative and deeply compelling movie. Opening with a scene of two young men on a study date whose individuality and difference from each other are expressed in their faces. Migoy (Kych Minemoto) has that round softness that looks like it has just blossomed, while Pol's (Gold Aceron) is square, frank, full of calm assertion. The actors takes the dialogue and fills it out. Pol is sensitive, more romantic, Migoy unashamedly sexual, and their closeness, as it often is between men is a form of erotic rivalry. We see this kind of homoerotic bond in film and literature all the time. Claire's (Andrea del Rosario) affair with Migoy begins quite organically when Migoy kisses her. But what makes May-December-January truly daring and original is that it gets inside the relationship between Migoy and Claire, and his friendship with Pol. The feelings of subconscious love are acted out, revealing the kind of shifting, inchoate emotions that lie beneath their closeness. 

     Minemoto plays Migoy’s lightness with seeming ease and Aceron is perfect for Pol’s constant brooding and melancholy. We’re always happy to see Yayo Aguila in any film, though her role as Migoy’s mother is far too short. Unsurprisingly, the film’s focus and its best work comes from Del Rosario and Minemoto. They ably play two halves of a whole with particularly good work from Del Rosario. There’s been so much made of the male gaze in cinema, but Alejandre’s film and cinematographer Daniel "Toto" Uy's camera unabashedly celebrate the body of Minemoto's Migoy and Aceron's Pol. We are used to seeing actresses as screen goddesses but rarely have male bodies been filmed as objects of beauty and desire in this way. Meanwhile, Del Rosario gets her fair share of admiring screen time, celebrating that beauty isn’t relegated only to teenage girls. She challenges the traditional roles of wives and mothers, often placing her own happiness as well as her singular bond ahead of what society wants. She has the hint of a beautiful woman aging, unused to such desperation in her loneliness. It's not only in the dramatic strength of the performances – but the openness of all three actors to the camera physically that makes the movie work. At times, May-December-January feels like a fairy tale in its matter-of-fact approach to the out-of-the-ordinary situation. There are certain elements of straight female fantasy, like romancing a young man and living an idyllic life. Odd as it may seem, this is not a prurient movie. It's an intricate exploration of friendship, parenting, love, loneliness, and desire. Lee asks you to contemplate this kind of love and Alejandre allows you to feel it.


Directed By; McArthur C. Alejandre

Screenplay: Ricky Lee

Director of Photography: Daniel "Toto" Uy

Editor: Benjo Ferrer

Production Designer: Ericson Navarro

Musical Director: Vince de Jesus

Sound Engineer: Immanuel Verona

PROVOCATIVE AND SATISFYING


     Stylized and visually arresting, Lawrence Fajardo's Mahjong Nights (Viva Films, 2021) complicates and perverts the simplest of interactions. It unfolds at a languorous pace, ultimately leaving viewers with a haunted feeling, an uneasy sense of always having something to worry about, some constraint on expression or behavior. The perversion of natural impulse begins with Angeli Khang whose achievement ultimately comes from how she renders Alexa. We’ve all seen the film where an actor chooses to dramatize the relationship between a performative character and the role they’ve taken on by underlining skill and barely contained nerves. Khang avoids this route entirely and instead shows us a performer with an intuitive, bodily understanding of who she’s playing. When we first see Alexa we don’t get the sense of a technically immaculate interpreter but of an instinctive, in-the-moment performer so committed to the goal she’s been given. In the rare moments she looks distracted, we get the sense of a performer stuck in her own head. We never forget the stakes that inform her ever-evolving crisis, yet Khang communicates all of this cleanly and dexterously. Jay Manalo's Leo is stern and forbidding, rarely letting the cold mask drop. Fajardo’s cast (which also features Mickey Ferriols as Leo’s wife Esther) is exceptional and Tad Tadioan gives an impassioned performance as Big Boy. Like Fajardo’s other films, Mahjong Nights grows out of a tension between essence and form—between a person’s emotions and the role he or she must play. 

     What made the second half so mesmerizing was the interplay of glances between Sean de Guzman’s Gaspar and Alexa. Much of appreciating the choreography of looks has to do with understanding the history of electric eyes. There's a specific moment when the battle of the stares begin. It's at a mahjong table where the characters communicate on two levels. Through speech as they exchange pleasantries and talk about the game, but true intentions are spoken with their eyes. Some may find the film excruciatingly dull, but pay close attention - beneath the surface, there's usually more going on. The underlying plot gradually reveals itself. We do not see Leo at work, but Manalo is able to project the man's capability for menace and begins to do that in bed with Alexa. Mahjong Nights is a film of deceptive subtlety that springs shut in its final moments like a steel trap. Fajardo is clearly having fun with audience preconceptions with a mahjong game that reveals plenty about the milieu we’re about to move in while balancing all sorts of layers effortlessly. Mahjong and Fajardo are a good fit—which I don’t mean remotely as an insult. The game is elegant, formal, and deliberate, but with a hint of repressed violence. As the story unfolds, Leo's cruelty stops being simply vile and starts to become fascinating and even paradoxical, infusing a potentially two-dimensional villain with humanity and pathos, leading to a terrific, unexpectedly amusing scene when Alexa’s conflicting emotions finally boil over and when her facade eventually breaks down, Fajardo’s story finally jerks into focus. It may seem like a long time getting there, but when Mahjong Nights finally reels you in, the payoff is both provocative and satisfying.

Directed By: Lawrence Fajardo
Screenplay: Byron Bryant, Lawrence Fajardo
Cinematography: T.M. Malones
Editing: Lawrence Fajardo
Production Design: Lawrence Fajardo
Musical Scorer: Peter Legaste
Sound Design: Alex Tomboc, Pietro Marco Javier

SKILLED FOOTING


      It’s a testament to director Chito S. Roño’s Ang Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan (Regal Entertainment, Inc., CSR Films.Ph, Black Sheep, 2023) that it manages to incorporate so many of the visual and storytelling elements from lesser movies to create something compelling. Roño has executed the most effective, most rewarding horror film by exploring a demanding scenario that is all the scarier because he has constructed a dramatically tense situation to draw our emotional involvement. What’s more, the experience is grueling because the imposing imagery employed is truly the stuff of nightmares. There’s an emotional cause behind every horrible turn. Joshua Garcia plays Galo Manansala with amazing intensity—the kind that makes you wonder how the filmmakers incited the volatile performance, making his character's state so believable. Garcia’s slow transformation leaves room for Bob Ong’s screenplay to find new ways of highlighting Galo’s uneasiness to relinquish the past. Most viewers, if they’re honest with themselves, will probably hate Mama Susan (Angie Ferro) and they’ll be uncomfortable with the extent of their hatred and what that says about their capacity for empathy. This discomfort is conditioned by the shrill soundtrack dreading Mama Susan’s whimpering or all-around act of invasion. Roño's treatment is masterful in how he uses our imaginations to build up Mama Susan's "friends" and delivers them in expert cinematic reality. 

     Moreover, he creates a highly stylized mise-en-scène constructed as a contained environment from which Galo, Niko (Yñigo Delen) and Jezel (Jewel Milag) are exposed to a frightening blend of psychological and real horror. Equally vital are cinematographer Eli Balce’s shadowy interiors, as well as Roño’s enveloping sense of mood and attention to detail. Every piece of furniture has a deliberate placement, best of all, the treatment avoids strict adherence to genre rules; he refuses to make this a typical supernatural yarn and instead uses his supporting cast—Aling Delia, played by Vangie Labalan and church caretaker Mang Narcing (Soliman Cruz), to deepen his central characters. Ang Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan takes great care to sharpen the details in Galo’s life so that when trouble comes along, it magnifies his anxiety. Perhaps the only elements that compare to Roño’s approach are Ferro and Garcia’s performances, especially the latter, since the young actor fully commits to his role with a mercurial presence, sending us further into the story. But it’s how Roño balances the film’s unnerving quality, genuine scares and its deep-rooted psychological impetus that leave us in full awe of how well Ang Mga Kaibigan ni Mama Susan has been assembled and how it walks the fine line between reality and nightmares with skilled footing. The unexpected ending finds a rare emotional realism in what could have been a run-of-the-mill creepshow.


Directed By: Chito S. Roño

Screenplay: Bob Ong

Music: Andrew Florentino

Director of Photography: Eli Balce

Editing: Carlo Francisco Manatad

Production Design: Jerann Ordinario

Sound: Albert Michael M. Idioma


EMPATHY AND COMPASSION


     Nurses play a critical role in our health care system and have touched the lives of just about everyone, sometimes in the most intimate, difficult or joyful moments of the human experience. But most of us know little about what nurses do, or the realities of nursing. Director Lemuel C. Lorca with writer Archie del Mundo constructed a warm depiction of nurses and nursing in Siglo ng Kalinga (2023), a Dr. Carl Balita Production and Philippine Nurses Association presentation that offers a touching and thorough glimpse into the complex, exciting and challenging world of being a nurse. With some degree of balance woven into the fabric of its unrelenting celebration of nursing, Siglo ng Kalinga explores what it means to be a nurse, the many different roles that nurses play and the realities of nursing that may be known, but have been seldom portrayed as meaningfully as they are in this film. Siglo ng Kalinga powerfully conveys the idea that good nurses have an abundance of empathy and compassion and that they are skilled in forming a connection with patients. The film also quietly, but convincingly, argues that what nurses do is as vital and essential a part of medical care as anything done by a doctor or surgeon. 

     Lorca captures the world in which they live and work. It explores the many different roles that nurses play and the realities of nursing – its joys and sorrows and the many ways that nurses impact the lives of others. Nursing is not merely a job, nor is it simply an occupation or a profession. To be a nurse, one must uphold the finest of standards and ethics, dedicating their entire lives to helping and serving others. Therefore, it cannot simply be a behavior; it's a lifestyle. When it comes to nursing philosophy, every nurse have their own values, beliefs and ideals that are different and unique from others. It presents a great challenge when incorporating these ideas into a professional practice. The simple truth is that Siglo ng Kalinga isn't meant as an examination of healthcare but as an examination and celebration of the history and growth of nursing as a profession in the Philippines. It's a humanistic and in some ways meditative portrait of people who have a passion for their work. If the film is workmanlike at times, it is also elegantly cleareyed. With an abundance of heart and warmth, honesty and sensitivity, Siglo ng Kalinga is both a celebration of nursing and a reminder that everyone needs to be nurtured and encouraged and comforted, and celebrated. It is powerful, heartbreaking and touching. Tears are almost inevitable.


Music: Paolo Almaden

Sound Design: Immanuel Verona

Production Design: Aped Santos

Editing: Lemuel Lorca

Cinematography: Marvin Reyes

Screenplay: Archie del Mundo

Direction: Lemuel C. Lorca

TRANSCENDENT HOWL OF HOPE

     

     The main focus of Eddie Garcia's 1978 feature, Atsay (Ian Film Productions) is Nelia de Leon’s odyssey and its emotional core is provided by Nora Aunor's intense, gestural performance, which is strengthened further by Romeo Vitug’s quietly observant camera. The whole drama is revealed through quotidian details. Atsay featured a direct storytelling style, and depicted working-class people struggling against bleak social conditions and human foibles. Garcia subsumes this wellspring of complexity into the form of his central character, Nelia. Mostly silent with her employers, Nelia nonetheless speaks volumes through her expressive face; not that they would notice. She is treated with brusque tolerance, which soon gives way to hostility from Mrs. Tulio (Armida Siguion-Reyna). In one of the film’s most upsetting moments, Garcia’s camera remains distant as the husband, Mr. Tulio (Renato Robles) stares at Nelia’s behind while dusting. Atsay is especially sharp on the corrupted social contracts and Garcia roots these observations most effectively in the relationship between Nelia and Mrs. Tulio. One solitary, charged glance between Nelia and the husband, midway through the film, is enough to suggest that a similar psychosexual panic has taken root in the wife’s mind, precipitating her increasingly heinous behavior. Nelia is a victim, it’s true, but she is also a refreshingly multidimensional character. A succession of scenes illustrates her romance with construction worker Pol (Ronald Corveau). Nelia's situation is obviously tragic, but Garcia’s ability to match his contempt with a non-judgmental eye toward all his characters defuses any danger of slipping into polemics. For the most part, Garcia keeps us at a distance, but when he judiciously cuts to huge close-ups of Aunor’s doleful, open face—tears in her eyes, her anguish registers like an uppercut to the solar plexus. In Atsay's closing moments, a desperately sad saga is transformed into a transcendent howl of hope. Garcia was congenitally incapable of making indifferent films, and everything that marked him out—his skill, compassion, and vision—is fully present in this startling, unforgettable return to filmmaking.

      The new digital transfer undertaken by The Film Development Council of the Philippines (FDCP) and the Philippine Film Archive (PFA) was created in 4K resolution by the Korean Film Archive (KOFA) with preliminary fixes to the image and sound from seven reels of 35mm color prints, provided by the Philippine Information Agency (PIA). Central Digital Lab (CDL) performed extensive digital restoration on a dry-scanned transfer to minimize visible scratches and spots that were the results of processing errors and that had been aggravated by time. I do not know exactly what type of improvements were made during the restoration process, but I am convinced that this is the very best Atsay has ever looked on any format. Excluding a few light blemishes that can be spotted during the opening, the film looks spotless. Detail and clarity are  excellent with the outdoor footage looking particularly good. Depth is optimal, though it appears that some careful rebalancing adjustments were made to ensure that in a couple of areas where some traces of aging might have impacted fluidity, the end result is as pleasing as it could be. The color grading is convincing. There is a good range of solid blacks and healthy whites with no traces of compromising sharpening adjustments. Image stability is very good. There is only one standard audio track on this presentation. English subtitles are provided for the main feature. Dialogue is clean, stable, nicely balanced, and easy to follow. Dynamic intensity is modest, but given the nature of the film and the manner in which it was shot this is hardly surprising. Eddie Garcia’s Atsay has been recently restored in 4K and looks impressive in high-definition.


Sound: Gaudencio Barredo

Film Editor: Jose H. Tarnate

Music: George Canseco

Director of Photography: Romeo Vitug

Screenplay: Edgardo M. Reyes

Direction: Eddie Garcia