TBA Productions and Jerrold Tarog reached a “new high” with Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral. It’s generally well recieved by both audience and critics. Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral is longer, bigger, slower, crispier, brighter, lighter than its predecessor—the flag-burning, blood boiling, gushing, fist-pumping, hatemongering, frothing at the mouth Heneral Luna. Is it better? Continue reading “Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)”→
Thought ‘Goyo’ was already the worst well-received movie of the year. But after watching Erik Matti’s latest, I guess we now have a winner. BuyBust/Anne Curtis rips Goyo/Paulo Avelino’s pretty face to shreds. Gloriously. Imagine that. Would probably make a good movie.
Save for one action sequence fueled by a punk rock song, where Anne Curtis tries to ward off the angry wives and mistresses of Gracia Ni Maria using an aluminum palanggana while Brandon Vera does the same with an umbrella, Erik Matti’s BuyBust is just endless gunfights and hand to hand combat that range from sloppy to well-executed, some rapid fire editing, some shaky cam, some unsustained tension, plenty of senseless violence (i.e., one poor lady got her head cut off), and lots of dead cops, henchmen, and poor civilians. Continue reading “BuyBust (2018)”→
I missed some pretty big movies this year. Just like the previous year. And the year before that. And the year before the year before that. And the year before the year before… Oh, this could go on forever. By “pretty big”, I mean movies like Blade Runner 2049 and Christopher Nolan’s Dunkirk. Or the last Star Wars movie. Continue reading “2017: Movies & Music Year-end List”→
Bliss is a well-crafted little film, an elaborate tease tinged with mild voltage of shock, a psycho-sexual thriller that approaches but never quite reaches the level of mind-fuck. The movie’s a clever play on parallels: Iza Calzado’s showbiz career with that of Jane Ciego; Jane’s to that of Abigail, the protagonist in Bliss; Jane’s real-life husband Carlo to the actor who plays her husband in Bliss, played by Ian Veneracion; Bliss’ indie writer-director Lexter Palao (Audie Gemora) to Jerrold Tarog; and that bald TV host played by Michael de Mesa to real life TV host Boy Abunda. But the most important of all is that of Jane Ciego and the nurse played by Adrienne Vergara. One child gets to live her dream of fortune and fame. The other child lives to share her nightmares with the other.
Jerrold Tarog’s script leaves clues and peanut shells along the way, makes sure you don’t get lost in the strip tease. Movies like Misery, Persona and Inception were mentioned in the film, but not Satoshi Kon’s Millennium Actress and Perfect Blue. Bliss may be lacking in full-sized thrills and effective scares, but intrigue, gratuitous nudity, and moments that are strictly not for the squeamish, more than makes up for it. That being said, claims that the film’s ending spells mind-fuck are grossly exaggerated. Bliss is nothing but a tease; like a bomba film that didn’t go full “pene” but just slides in the tip. It’s like minutes and minutes of foreplay without the actual sex.
But no sex is OK, especially when one is tired and badly needs to sleep. Like Jane at one point in the movie, getting tired of all her showbiz routines. I thought she’s much like the local movie theaters and the movie goers, already tired of looking for something different, feeling shortchanged most of the time. There should be more choices in our cinemas; not just the usual studio love teams, tepid rom-coms, and the predominant but mostly unimaginative Hollywood movies.
Perhaps this is what Bliss is: it’s the evil nurse pushing us away from the comfort zone, sending voltage of shock and sensation, rousing us, leaving us gasping for air, asking for more. There are lots of good local indie movies out there waiting for a wider audience. Bliss is just one of them. If only the local theater owners would realize, we’re more than willing to pay to see them.