ESCAPIST ENTERTAINMENT

Posted by Jojo Devera ,


     Peque Gallaga and Lore Reyes' Magic Temple (Star Cinema Productions, Inc., 1996) is a glitzy, glamorous and rollickingly fun fantasy film that doesn't match for story their other well-known fantasy masterpiece, Once Upon A Time, although Magic Temple does one-up the 1987 classic in a number of areas, notable among them the immaculately-designed creatures that populate the film. Though still a dark story with traditional motifs and characters, Magic Temple does well to lend a lighter side to the proceedings. Song and dance, comedy and action all blend into the overreaching fantasy story arc and to very good effect. It's clear from the beginning that Magic Temple sets out to deliver a good old time at the movies and it doesn't disappoint. Escapist entertainment in the truest sense, Magic Temple brings to life a world populated by good and evil, and cuddly and scary characters where danger and laughs all await those that dare enter its inviting yet perilous and altogether fantastical world. The kingdom of Samadhi is populated by a host of fascinating characters. Magic Temple is a rare movie where even tertiary characters with a few fleeting moments of screen time enjoy such a robust and memorable presence allowing the creative minds behind-the-scenes to shine. Jason Salcedo (Jubal), Junnel Hernando (Sambag) and Marc Solis (Omar) deliver the goods. The three protagonists does well to convey thoughts, both theirs and the audience's. Their effort is breezy and sure, and gains a confidence that serves them well as the film moves on to the climax. Jackie Lou Blanco's Ravenal delivers a cheerful effort as a villain that's done a dastardly deed but has so much sinister fun in the process that it's hard not to like the character on some level. Aside from the cast, Magic Temple's most notable feature, particularly when viewing the film in retrospect is its decidedly 1990s flair. The film's song-and-dance numbers cannot help but engender an instant flashback to the era.

     Magic Temple's restoration pays off in a big way on high definition. The image is noticeably tighter, sharpening up many of the finer details like clothing lines, hair and environmental details. The leap isn't as drastic in foreground elements, but it's worthwhile. The high definition's benefit seems more clear in objects further from the screen, where the uptick in clarity is significant. Colors are more nuanced. They're not punchier, but the palette enjoys a clearly greater range of subtle shadings that give the movie a fuller look, but at the same time one that's slightly less aggressive. The palette feels more natural and the color hasn't pushed the image to overheating. It's a very natural image, beautiful in motion, and perfectly complementary of the movie's many areas of exploration. Black levels are excellent, flesh tones retain that slight rosiness. Viewers aren't going to walk away disappointed. Magic Temple is a good movie that's been given a fantastic restoration. The picture quality is a work of art and the two-channel sound embodies all of the good qualities the track has to offer, including spacious front side presence, a healthy and balanced support structure and more pleasantly robust bass. Clarity is terrific, smaller support atmospherics are well integrated and positioned. Dialogue is clear and detailed, always well prioritized. This is an exceptional soundtrack that, literally, brings a new layer of excellence to Magic Temple's sound experience.


Sound Engineer: Albert Michael Idioma

Editor: Danny Gloria. FEGMP

Music By: Archie Castillo

Production Designer: Rodell Cruz

Director of Photography: Joe Tutanes, F.S.C.

Screenplay: Peque Gallaga, Lore Reyes

Directed By: Peque Gallaga, Lore Reyes

SURREPTITIOUS ILLUMINATION

Posted by Jojo Devera ,


     McArthur C. Alejandre's Call Me Alma (Viva Films, 2023) has the energy and almost surreptitious illumination of the best improvised work. Daniel “Toto” Uy’s cinematography gives the film an exacting look that cuts nicely against the gathering force of Ricky Lee's screenplay. With a combination of power and grace, Jaclyn Jose delivers one of the more memorable performances of her career as Sheila. This is no small feat, given the depth and breadth of Jose’s filmography and her consistent ability to produce great work. She’s such an instinctive actress that never hits a false note. Jose finds unexpected avenues into her character, a challenging role that requires her to show a mental deterioration that’s inherently internal. When the reality of her situation begins to set in, Sheila’s fear and anxiety turn, at times to hysteria. In other hands these moments could veer into melodrama, but Jose earns the viewer’s empathy. Her glossy circumstances disappear into the background, and all we see is an ailing woman, overwhelmed by her fate. While Alma (Azi Acosta) speaks, Sheila’s face reflects a complex interplay of emotions. The idea of recriminatory conflict between mother and daughter seems fair enough as Jose and Acosta invest their roles with undeniable emotional conviction and impact. 

     Call Me Alma pains to show the life of its title character. Acosta, the actress you call when you need skill combined with courage understands that prostitution sometimes isn’t about sex at all, but about power. A man who feels powerless over women can spend some money and have power over her. Acosta plays Alma as a plucky young woman, smart, but not deceived. She has plenty of time to share with us, in voice-over, the tricks of her trade, so to speak. Alma lets us in to her personal life, her character reveals all, candidly upfront as she diverges into her clients Mr. Lopez (Mon Confiado), Mr. JC (Josef Elizalde), Miguel (Gold Aceron) and her experiences with each of them. Her delivery masks the small nuggets of heartbreak as she makes a living by selling her body for money. Alejandre allows his actors and script to leave the biggest impressions. It all makes for a film that's perhaps more difficult to penetrate than it should be. Still, it's full of little gestures and beats that all add up to complete portraits of these characters, and the hints stated in the dialogue are gracefully worked onto the rest of the film. Weaving some intriguing character dynamics, Call Me Alma balances its lightweight elements with a more serious look at the burden of past secrets.


Sound Engineer: Immanuel Verona

Original Score: Von de Guzman

Production Designer: Ericson Navarro

Editors: Benjo Ferrer, Celina Donato

Director of Photography: Daniel "Toto" Uy

Screenplay: Ricky Lee

Direction: McArthur C. Alejandre

VISUAL ELOQUENCE

Posted by Jojo Devera ,


     Shaking off the solemnity that smothers many well-meaning, high-minded family film, Sarah... Ang Munting Prinsesa (Star Cinema, 1995) revels in an exuberant sense of play, drawing its viewers into the wittily heightened reality of a fairy tale. The material, like the title, is a tad precious, but the finished film is much too spirited for that to matter. Sarah... Ang Munting Prinsesa also arrives without the benefit of big names making it even more of an unself-conscious delight. As directed by Romy V. Suzara, the film takes enough liberties to re-invent rather than embalm Frances Hodgson Burnett's assiduously beloved story. There's a hint of magical realism to the spring and fluidity of Suzara's storytelling and it breathes unexpected new life into this fable. The tale unfolds in a fanciful, expressive and handsome set that's almost entirely green. This building is the girls' school to which Sarah Crewe (Camille Prats) is relegated after an exotic childhood spent in India. And it has been ingeniously rendered to inspire all the awe and terror a child in such altered circumstances might feel. In this film's harmonious world, anything can conspire to intensify the characters' thoughts. Suzara makes that clear from the opening sequence that sets the prevailing tone of inviting artificiality. Left in England to be educated while her father, Capt. Crewe (Mat Ranillo III) takes care of his mining business, Sarah finds herself under the wing of Miss Minchin (Jean Garcia), the schoolmistress whose fondness for her students is directly linked to their parents' financial standing. Since Sarah is rich enough to earn the nickname of the title, she is very well-treated, at least while the money holds out.

     Admired by schoolmates who wear matching middy dresses, Sarah is given ostentatiously grand quarters that befit her initial status. In keeping with the story's spirit of noblesse oblige, she finds time to befriend younger girls and charm them with her storytelling skills. Sarah also makes friends with Becky (Angelica Panganiban), the school's scullery maid who becomes her greatest ally once she experiences a severe reversal of fortune. Sarah is both patrician and bereft, with only the magic of her own daydreams to sustain her. As written by Shaira Mella-Salvador, the film injects some elements of contemporary reality into a tale that could well have remained unrelievedly quaint. Less an actors' film than a series of elaborate tableaux, it has a visual eloquence that extends well beyond the limits of its story. This restoration is a bit brighter, but I have to say neither the brightness nor the color grading struck me as unusual or inauthentic looking. While contrast is good, the increased brightness can tend to slightly blanch some scenes, but again I found nothing overly problematic in the presentation. Detail levels are excellent throughout and routinely high in close-ups where everything from the opulent fabrics in the sumptuous costumes attain an almost palpable ambience. Grain resolves naturally, though it has moments of definite uptick in some selected scenes. Sarah... Ang Munting Prinsesa features a 2.0 mix that fully supports the gorgeous music of Nonong Buencamino. Dialogue is presented cleanly and clearly and the track shows no signs of damage. To see Sarah whirling ecstatically in her attic room on a snowy night, exulting in the feelings summoned by an evocative sight in a nearby window, is to know just how stirringly lovely a children's film can be.


Sound Supervisor: Ramon Reyes

Production Designer: Manny Morfe

Editor: Edgardo "Boy' Vinarao

Musical Director: Nonong Buencamino

Director of Photography: Ely Cruz, F.S.C.

Written By: Shaira Mella-Salvador

Directed By: Romy V. Suzara

RESOUNDINGLY EFFECTIVE

Posted by Jojo Devera ,


     Ishmael Bernal builds and reinforces a mood with unexpected techniques that are simple, personal and resoundingly effective from the movie's opening moments. There are no suffocating close-ups in Hinugot sa Langit (Regal Films, Inc., 1985), instead, individual shots are long and leisurely. The camera movement flows, following the characters as they move about their world. Gradually, this lived-in feeling allows us to inhabit their world, too, and with that comes, not just an understanding but an actual feel for what it must have been like. Perhaps unsurprisingly, offscreen space plays an essential role in the film’s construction. Cinematographer Rody Lacap works with a mostly fixed camera here; the unconventional framing makes us aware of a larger environment and context. In one of the film’s most extraordinary sequences Carmen (Maricel Soriano), is sitting at the doctor's office. Her mind is elsewhere. She is worried. If things go wrong her life could be ruined. Bernal places Carmen at the center of the frame and shows her in a long take as the conversation happens. This is an aspect of consciousness, a moment in life, that we've all experienced. We've all been scared and feeling outside the general mirth. Yet, I've never seen this reality conveyed in a Filipino movie before. The scene is unbearably tense, not because Bernal shows us that Carmen is tense, but rather because he puts us at the table with her, and he does so long enough that we soon feel what she is feeling. The near-constant tension between narrative and image, between what we expect to see and what we are actually shown, makes Bernal’s insert shot all the more essential. Virtually every shot has something novel about it, either in its technique, emotional weight, psychological perception or a combination of all three. 

     Stella (Amy Austria) lives her life while trying to be a good friend to her cousin Carmen. Unable to communicate her pain to self-absorbed boyfriend Teddy (Ronald Bregendahl), Stella was forced into an appalling act of self-sacrifice. Austria, the movie's locus of meaning astonishes, humble in aspect but brave and focused. While often overwhelmed, Stella does not lose any of her resourcefulness and compassion, and Austria masterfully balances herself well between her character’s strength and vulnerability while drawing more care and empathy from us. Commanding every scene, Soriano brings a multi-textural depth to Carmen and speaks volumes with her silence. The more frozen her face, the more of her soul lies bare. You want her not just to survive, but to survive with her humanity intact. Charito Solis completes a trio of notable performances as Ate Juling, Carmen's landlady who shines in a heartbreaking sequence halfway through the film. She throws you completely off balance which only serves to add to the tension of her character and the situation. Hinugot sa Langit deliberately levels an unblinking gaze at its subjects. That makes camera placement and movement crucial, and suggests that every shot has been carefully prepared. The movie has inspired many words about how it reflects Filipino society, but the fascination comes not so much from the experiences the characters have, however unspeakable, but in who they are, and how they behave and relate. Like many contemporary Filipino filmmakers, Bernal examines political and social conditions through his concentration on individual characters, a detailed formal approach, and spare verisimilitude. It’s a realism that cannot help but serve as a biting criticism of the Marcos regime. Bernal acknowledges the gravity of the situation he has dramatized and opens it to deeper meanings, all while maintaining his steadfast focus on character. How remarkable, that a film tackling such weighty issues should do so with such integrity and still manage to be sensitive, moving, and human.


Sound Supervision: Rudy Baldovino

Editing: Jess Navarro

Music: Willy Cruz

Production Design: Elmer Manapul

Cinematography: Rody Lacap

Screenplay: Amado L. Lacuesta, Jr.

Direction: Ishmael Bernal

YEARNING AND DEPENDENCE

Posted by Jojo Devera ,


      Few films have never been as visually enthralling as Lawrence Fajardo’s latest. Everything from camera angles to scene transitions exudes longing. Sugapa (Viva Films, 2023) is an ill-fated romance, and that desirous mood grows until it overwhelms. It's a film about yearning and dependence, which later translates to love, both of which is attainable and unfeasible for lead characters Ben (Aljur Abrenica) and Ana (AJ Raval). The somewhat languid nature of their romance is never stale, nothing seems forced or exaggerated. Sugapa has Fajardo at his most restrained narrative-wise, yet that doesn’t affect the prowess of his directorial abilities nor the thematic expansiveness of the story at hand. Most cinematic romances tell us what to think, having characters state what they feel early on or inviting us to share lustful gazes. Fajardo does it the hard way, building up a complex psychological relationship in which sexual desire feels like an emergent characteristic rather than a starting point. When Ben and Anna focus on one another, the result seems so specific, so intense, as to be incompatible with any other aspect of life. It is also the kind of relationship which can make other people – including the audience – feel shut out, even rejected. The tension between the two extends like a taut wire that sits burdened under the weight of miscommunication, but also threatens to snap at the peak of their vulnerability. A shift in the second half recontextualizes aspects of the first half, but in this shift, Ana's story is more heightened. Over the course of Sugapa, Fajardo continuously elevates what we're watching and the film is never too much to handle. 
There’s a complexity to the storytelling that’s effective and memorable, as Fajardo and writer John Bedia create detailed characters that are intriguing and inscrutable with half-truths shared between them. They seem at times to be observers of their own story, wryly conscious of the familiar roles they inhabit: Ben's best friend, Mando (Lander Vera Perez), Ana's lover Sarge Teodoro (Art Acuña) and her mother Rita (Ana Abad Santos). 

     Sugapa never takes off in a fully erotic direction. When it homes in on the enigmatic connection between Ben and Ana, the film is as alluring as it is provocative. How does a romance survive between two people whose only hope for a future together depends upon them leaving the past unresolved? Fajardo explores the risks of longing, his take on the genre is like an overpowering attraction that refuses to be ignored. The only relief comes from indulging it. Sugapa is only able to stir up such unexpectedly immense emotions during its final moments because of the complications that Fajardo creates for his characters along the way. The small, pliable details of everyday lives and the enduring awkwardness of enforced small talk. Fajardo builds a world where alliances are constantly shifting and nearly every moment is cause for reconsideration. With very strong supporting performances by Gwen Garci, Tanya Gomez, Archi Adamos, Lou Veloso, Jarius Aquino, Mark Dionisio, Neil Tolentino and Rene Durian - Sugapa never burns, it sizzles and smolders, opting to enhance passion and sorrow to the detriment of thrills and violence. Although more formal and less furious, Fajardo refuses to adhere to conventionality. The clarity in filmmaking, dealing with multiple layers and complex temporal shifts in the story, he meets his goal with an incredible eye for detail. If Sugapa initially seems to be examining how their feelings for each other can survive despite being unresolved, a different picture emerges - one that suggests there's no other way for Ben to stay alive. Love can last a lifetime, but longing never dies.


Directed By: Lawrence Fajardo

Screenplay: John Bedia

Director of Photography: Joshua Reyles

Production Designers: Ian Traifalgar, Law Fajardo

Musical Scorers: Peter Legaste, Joaquin Santos

Editor: Lawrence Fajardo

Sound Design: Russel Gabayeron   


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