The Market Monitor Minding the Nation's Business
Second of three parts
(For the first part of this column, click here)
If there’s one film that can claim to be the most “unconventional” among Cinemalaya’s full-length entries this year, it would be Cenon Obispo Palomares and David R. Corpuz’s Kusina (Her Kitchen), the screenplay of which won Palomares first prize in its category at the 2006 Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature.
As filmed, Kusina is a lovely, and lovingly mounted, stage play that chronicles the life of Juanita (Judy Ann Santos-Agoncillo) from the Commonwealth period to the Martial Law years—and in her roles as obedient granddaughter, happy bride, dissatisfied housewife, and concerned mother—without leaving her cherished kitchen, where she naturally cooks and serves delicious dishes to her loved ones, and which serves as both her sanctuary and prison.
Not only is Kusina theatrical, it’s also magic-realist: it’s astonishing how the characters defy aging upon reaching adulthood. Even their evolving clothes don’t show any wear or tear. It’s as if graying hair and wrinkles—or makeup artists—had been banned from the set, which gradually accumulate key kitchen appliances throughout the film to indicate the passage of time.
Santos-Agoncillo is in top form in Kusina, and is the main reason to see it, but for me, the film’s finest accomplishment is that it managed to get into Cinemalaya, instead of the Virgin Labfest. When compared to the provocative meals that are Lars von Trier’s Dogville and Jun Robles Lana’s Anino sa Likod ng Buwan (Shadow Behind the Moon)—two movies that were both shot in a single setting—Kusina is only a pleasant appetizer.
Maternal bond
Cooking is also prominently featured in Jason Paul Laxamana’s Pampanga province-set comedy-drama Mercury is Mine, which explores the ways Filipinos treat Americans. In it, rain-soaked American teen Mercury (Bret Jackson) stumbles upon the failing eatery of Carmen (Pokwang), a middle-aged widow with aspirations of being a cooking-show host, and pledges to work for her in exchange for shelter. From this arrangement, an unlikely maternal bond forms between the two.
Mercury is Mine largely succeeds, thanks in part to Laxamana’s sharp dialogue and Pokwang’s snappy delivery of it, and to the comedienne herself, whose engaging performance shows what she can do with a meaty role. Also, the movie unnerves as much as it entertains, showing how, behind our warm smiles and demeanor, we can unapologetically take advantage of foreigners as much as they can of us. In a way, the film is a big middle finger flashed toward white folks.
As much as Mercury is Mine works, it’s rather troubling to watch how badly Mercury fares as a character. Life has been unkind to him: born to a woman whom his abusive father calls a whore, dragged to a strange country and compelled to commit murder, and encountering people whose motives are not exactly pure. Poor kid; he can’t seem to get a break. It’s no surprise, then, that among the characters, he’s the most sympathetic.
With this in mind, I can’t help but ask: If Mercury’s father loathed and abused him, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to just leave the teenager in the States, instead of dragging him all the way to the Philippines? If Mercury was abused, shouldn’t he be a bit more wary around people, have serious trust issues in the beginning? And wouldn’t law enforcers try harder to track him down after his father was found dead?
It’s a shame Laxamana practically sidestepped these questions, however minor they may appear to some viewers. If these were addressed properly, the admittedly small, yet, important narrative details they can yield would have made Mercury is Mine, solid as it is, even more effective.
Next week: Tuos and Pamilya Ordinaryo.
To be concluded next week