Cinemanila 2011: BOUNDARY Review
Confined
mostly within the very small spaces provided for by the cabs, taxi drivers live
lives that are well-suited for cinema. Although they are forced to interact
with people of various personalities, needs and intentions, this human
interaction is limited to services being offered and stories being shared in
the interim. They are constantly embattled, by drowsiness when forced to drive
nights, by paranoia when a particular passenger raises suspicions, by
desperation when the shift's earnings are not enough to cover the cab owner's quota
leaving them with hardly any income to live with. Within the rigid confines of
their cabs and their means of livelihood, they witness, either through the
endless tirades of newscasters in the radio programs they listen to or through
actual experiences, the worst of what a corrupt society can deal to a person.
Boundary starts ominously. Coke
Polipata's violin wails in the background as a dishevelled and obviously
paranoia-stricken cab driver (Ronnie Lazaro) opts for a snack in what seems to
be an ironically idyllic riverside park. Within the first few minutes of the
film, director Benito Bautista orchestrates a view of Manila that is
intriguingly unhinged. He carefully sows the seeds of suspicion, which will
eventually color the atmosphere of the film. The film retreats from the
temporary comforts of day as it follows the cab driver as he plies the crowded
streets of Manila well into the night. At this juncture, Bautista allows a
glimpse of the city from a distance and away the jaded eyes of his overworked
protagonist, evoking a certain calm amidst the chaos of the city before
plunging his viewers into a more intimate yet intense look of how that
seemingly disconnected bigger picture finds its way into the most contained of
spaces.
From
then on, Bautista follows the cab driver as he picks up a well-dressed man
(Raymond Bagatsing) who asks to be driven to nearby Antipolo. Beneath exteriors
defined by random acts of decency and conversations marked by normalcy, both
the driver and his passenger are in fact brewing plans of their own.
The action is mostly set inside the cab, with
the storytelling done mostly through the conversations the cab driver has with
his passenger and the characterization limited to the stories relayed, the mannerisms,
gestures, and other occasional quirks. The paranoia Bautista invested in early
on manages to color the prolonged sequences within the cramped interior of the
cab with tremendous foreboding, carrying the film despite being constricted
with its location with a sizeable portion of uneasiness and tension. From
within the cab, safety from the viciousness of the street is in fact an
illusion as desperation creeps into the picture, forcing the cab driver to
survive amidst all odds.
Boundary falters only in
logic. Bautista succeeds in establishing the dangers of uncertainty in the
familiar. However, the screenplay, which Bautista co-wrote with John Bedia, is
peppered with holes, raising more questions of logistics and practicality
rather than answering them. This, of course, is a minor and forgivable problem
considering that everything else seems so masterfully orchestrated, from
Bolipata and Paolo Peralta's unsettling score to McCoy Ternate's aptly economic
cinematography to Chuck Gutierrez's intelligent editing. In the end, Bautista
has crafted a firm and suspenseful thriller whose clever twist in the end puts
both perspective and pertinence to its constricting but intriguingly exciting
process.