Filipino Sex Films 2002 (And Why They Suck So Much)
Noel Vera
Despite President Macapagal-Arroyo's pledge for a more moral administration compared to her predecessor--the not-quite-as-ethically preoccupied former President Joseph Ejercito Estrada--the production and interest in sex flicks continues; here are some possible reasons why.
The government has its own share of problems--more than its proper share, I'd say. If it were to cast about for a basis for comparison, I would point to the situation in which the Marcos regime found itself, during the last few years of its reign: little credibility, poor investor confidence, not a little political and social instability. I'm not equating the two administrations--Macapagal-Arroyo is not coming to the end of twenty years' of dictatorial rule, for starters. But if she were to talk to people from inside the regime, I think she would find their feelings of frustration and bewilderment--that so much has spun so completely out of control--to be not so very different. If so, she would also probably discover--has discovered, for all I know--the usefulness of a discreetly loosened film industry. The Marcos regime eventually found that censoring movies was more effort than it was worth (not to mention the bad publicity generated on the international level). Macapagal-Arroyo, having gone through three chairmen of the Movie and Television Rating and Classification Board (the MTRCB, or--to put it bluntly--the censors) in two years (and hopefully settling down with her fourth), probably arrived at a similar conclusion.
The Marcos regime found films useful in a "bread and circuses" way--give the public what it wants (sex), and the public will (hopefully) be too distracted to rebel (yet the '80s are remembered for producing some of the finest Filipino erotic films ever made--"Init sa Magdamag" (Midnight Passion, 1983); "Boatman" (1984); "Scorpio Nights" (1985)). When Macapagal-Arroyo first sat down as president she claimed that moral reform was a top issue on her agenda, and to show her seriousness, supported the ban on Jose Javier Reyes' arty sex flick, "Live Show" (2001). Nowadays you hear hardly a peep from her about moral reform in her administration, much less in the local film industry.
But it isn't just the government and the tenor of its leadership. The depressed economy, the ugly mood of the public, the sense of helplessness and fear are similar to what you saw about you in the '80s. Studios found that most other genres--action, fantasy, horror, drama--did generally poor to indifferent boxoffice; they found that sex was the most reliable come-on, for the relatively lowest initial investment (newcomers are actually an asset in a Filipino sex film, fresh flesh being both cheaper and more attractive).
Hence the recent resurgence of sex in Filipino cinema. It's its umpteenth comeback--conservatism and liberalism seem to come in waves, according to what's politically fashionable at the moment. Right now political fashion dictates that attention be directed elsewhere, on more important issues (corruption in government, the war on terrorism, the upcoming elections). No news is good news, and the studios react accordingly.
The latest practice is to hire a visual stylist to give the film an arty sheen--witness Erik Matti, whose first film "Scorpio Nights 2" (1998) was a huge hit. Matti apprenticed under Peque Gallaga, director of the original "Scorpio Nights," and exhibits the same virtues and weaknessess--a flair for glossy imagery coupled with a near-complete inability to tell a coherent story (in the original "Scorpio," however, the story was simple enough, the locale gritty enough, the sensuality intense enough to transcend the many flaws). Matti's latest film "Prosti" (short for 'Prostitute,' introducing fresh-faced Aubrey Miles) is all filtered amber light and insistent violin strings (shades of "In the Mood for Love,"--not that Matti was counting on people to recognize the theft) and about as substantial, one of the most ludicrous films of the year. The basic premise has a prostitute falling in love with her pimp in a "casa" (whorehouse) --problem is, whores in "casas" enjoy walk-in clients and hardly need pimps. You see the emphasis on surface flash over everyday believability right there...
Yam Laranas is a relatively more interesting case: he worked as cinematographer for the great independent short filmmaker Raymond Red and at one point had Matti as a mentor. His cinematography shows the influence of Red, with its casual lyricism and bold colors; unfortunately his films ("Balahibong Pusa" (Pussy Hairs, 2001), "Radyo" (Radio, 2001) betray an ineptness on the level of Matti's. His latest film, "Hibla" (Thread) tells of a country girl (Rica Peraleja, possibly the first "probinsyana" in the Philippines to wear slipshod silicon implants) and a city girl (Maui Taylor as an equally slipshod teenage seductress) who are separated as children, and meet again as adults. It proceeds as expected--incoherently, flaunting its pair of excruciatingly bad performances--to a sublimely silly climax involving the two girls' lovers in a wrestling match, before a nipa hut that refuses to burn down.
Quark Henares' "Gamitan" ('Plaything' being the closest translation) features equally silly moments--Maui Taylor (in her debut as sexy ingenue) and her lover chopping up a dead body--but Henares has the wit to acknowledge the silliness, and not pretend that what he's doing is art. He makes clever use of split screens and bizarre camera angles, plus an eclectic soundtrack, to add a level of irony to an otherwise ordinary scenario of a college-girl virgin transformed into lethal seductress.
Henares is a newcomer, while Matti and Laranas have only been at it for a few years. Joel Lamangan has been making films since the '80s, and his latest, "Bihag" (Prisoner) is not much different from most of his more commercial ventures: melodrama plus sex plus a subtext of anger fueled by class-consciousness. Dina Bonnevie plays a former rape victim who falls in love with and marries a former general (Eddie Garcia), a respectable old monster not above torturing the occasional prisoner and raping his wife's younger sister (Assunta de Rossi). Lamangan demonstrates heart and sensibility far beyond anything filmmakers like Matti or Laranas could ever hope to acquire (he was a political prisoner under the Marcos regime and even now is a committed activist). If only he was a better filmmaker...
"Bihag" has its politically correct heart in the right place without being very good melodrama--the performances are pitched too shrill, the camerawork is both busy and incoherent, the ending is cribbed from the short story "The Most Dangerous Game." I can't help admiring Lamangan, the same time I can't bring myself to like his work--but he does earn my respect, in a way Laranas and Matti have so far failed to do.
Maryo J. delos Reyes, another veteran, is no stranger to the sex flick--he recently did "Paraiso ni Efren" (Efren's Paradise, 1999) and "Red Diaries" (2001), both of which featured well-orchestrated sex (but not-as-well-orchestrated storytelling). His "Laman" (Flesh) comes as a complete surprise--a modestly scaled yet persuasive erotic noir about an innocent "probinsyano" who ends up in a four-way affair with his wife (Lolita de Loen), his best friend (Albert Martinez) and his woman employer (Elizabeth Oropesa). Delos Reyes plays with film grain and editing for a look as up-to-date as anything by Laranas or Matti, but with the unique advantage of a story that actually makes sense (no self-contradictory fantasy premises, no eternally combusting nipa huts). And he is blessed with an excellent cast--Oropesa and Martinez are very fine as an amoral and more than a little decadent older couple; Servo and de Leon stand out for their fresh, unaffected performances.
It's a telling sign of the times that films like "Hibla," "Gamitan," and "Prosti" do brisk business, while "Laman" languished at the boxoffice. The common explanation is that the three films featured women Filipino men wanted to bed--fair-skinned, innocent-looking, large (mostly artificial) breasts--while "Laman's" Lolita de Leon had genuinely huge (if droopy) breasts but was too lower class, too brown-skinned, apparently, to spark men's fantasies (blame the casting for being too accurate). The people who flocked to "Scorpio Nights" and "Boatman" in the '80s had more on their minds than "mestiza" flesh; they were looking for an outlet for their nihilism and despair, and in those two films (consciously, unconsciously) they found powerful expression. The same mood may have been prevalent this year, but unfortunately there wasn't the same level of talent available to make the appropriate response.
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