If
Wincy Ong's San Lazaro were a student
in a classroom full of recent films from the Philippines, which necessarily
includes important works from Lav Diaz, Raya Martin and Brillante Mendoza, it
would probably be sitting in the back, an unnoticeable weirdo among the
overachievers and underachievers that fill the room. It is a film that does not
seem to belong to the room, given that it is inherently oblivious to anything
and everything that is supposed to be pertinent to the so-called new wave in
Philippine cinema, except to the irreverence and humor that persists in the
cinema even amidst its usual heft and seriousness.
It
is not that the film lacks ambition or rejects relevance or that ambition and
relevance are essential elements of films. San
Lazaro disguises itself as horror yet it is most apparent that its primary
purpose is not to shock or scare. It is intriguingly unhinged, with characters
that are grounded more on humorous illogic than common sense. In a way, Ong has
crafted a film that is reminiscent of David Lynch's works, except that it is fuelled
by artificial uppers instead of the usual dreams, nightmares and other
insanity-induced things. There's probably a tad more self-conscious wit and
weirdness than needed, but it never crosses-over to being something that is
more annoying or frustrating than entertaining.
The
story's simple enough. Sigfried (Ong), a random loser who has contented himself
by learning useless skills from YouTube, is suddenly plucked from his
uneventful existence by Limuel (Ramon Bautista), his previous classmate whom he
has not communicated with since their school days, to bring Limuel's brother
(Nicco Manalo), who seems to be possessed by some sort of evil spirit, to his
uncle (Allan Forte), a singing exorcist, in the faraway town of San Lazaro.
It's basically a road movie, peppered with details that make it delightfully
off-tangent and curiously engaging.
Ong
and Bautista's odd coupling undoubtedly highlights the experience. It's a grand
balancing act they admirably commit to. Wearing sheens of fantabulous
seriousness, the two prance around in the obviously made-up world where
everything is not exactly topsy-turvy but deliciously creeping its way there. There
is always that sense that everything is an inside joke, yet Ong and Bautista
are formidable in their ploy, resulting in cautious giggles. The other characters
that populate that world are mostly oddballs and other contrivances, teasing
the audience of many more stories that have not been told, and seemingly conspirators
with Ong and Bautista in what could either be a well-orchestrated prank or a
product of tilted genius.
(Cross-published in Lessons from the School of Inattention.)