The Loved One (Irene Emma Villamor, 2026)

It may be true that within every relationship there is the lover and the one who is loved and that love is generally unequal. At least, Eric (Jericho Rosales) feels himself to have been the lover and is resentful that Ellie (Anne Curtis) did not seem to love him as much as he loved her, but the irony is that Ellie may feel the same. She kept trying to get through to Eric, but he never really seemed to listen to her nor did she feel him to be very interested in who she actually was as opposed to what he wanted her to be. 

In any case, it’s clear from the offset that Eric and Ellie are entirely unsuited. The qualities that once drew them to each other are exactly those which later drive them apart. Told mainly from Eric’s perspective, the film nevertheless paints him as an incredibly dull person, which wouldn’t really be a problem in itself if he didn’t resent other people’s desire to go places and do things quite as much as he does. He’s a bit of a fuddy-duddy and, as his mother puts it, “traditional” which is to say socially conservative with some fairly right-wing, authoritarian views which are in direct contrast to Ellie’s bohemian outlook. Eric’s attracted to her because she’s a free spirit, a dynamic and mysterious young woman who likes to have fun but also wants to make a difference in the world. 

But Eric’s also insecure in himself and at the end of the day wants Ellie to lead a more conventional life. Ellie comes from money, and Eric can’t escape the sense of inferiority he feels around her upper-class parents who disparage his occupation on their first meeting and make no secret of the fact they think he’s not good enough for their daughter only to come round to him later. In some ways, Ellie may be attracted to him because he reminds her of her father and aside from his working-class background is exactly the sort of man she’s told she’s supposed to want. Nevertheless, he becomes jealous and controlling. He pushes marriage with thinly veiled desperation, as if by putting a ring on her finger he’d have won her forever. Ellie, meanwhile, tells him she doesn’t want to be “trapped” by him and has no interest in getting married. All she wants is to live with him, though Eric isn’t all that keen on the business of living so much as the external validation of social success through ticking off milestones like marriage and children and career achievement. 

Ellie doesn’t care about any of that. When she tells Eric that she’s quit her office job because the corporate life isn’t for her, he looks on in total horror as if he can’t believe someone would do something so foolish as to quit their job with no plan for the future. He puts up with it when she starts doing humanitarian work, but thinks of it as a hobby or a passing fancy and never takes it seriously. It doesn’t occur to him that something that doesn’t make money or improve one’s social standing could be fulfilling, and worse than that, he resents what he sees as Ellie’s unseriousness thinking that it’s born of the confidence and security that comes with privilege. If he once thought of her as a free spirit, he comes to see her as flaky and fails to notice that she is always growing and changing as she pursues the person she’s supposed to be while he remains defiantly as he is, resenting that everything is changing all around him. 

Still, Ellie keeps trying even though this relationship is clearly not working for her. She begins smoking to deal with her anxiety which mainly seems to be bundled up with her relationship with Eric and breaks down in tears listening to a woman trapped in an abusive marriage tells her of her struggles to leave while working at a women’s association. Eric is often cruel and thoughtless, selfish and controlling, pissed off when she talks to other men but flirting with a woman at work with whom he almost starts an affair. He thinks that “almost” is his saving grace, but really it doesn’t matter. Eric has treated both women disrespectfully and already cheated on Ellie emotionally if only in his reluctance to go home knowing that she’s there. The generous conclusion that Ellie comes to that they were both too much for each other. At the wedding where they reconnected, Ellie asked Eric if he thought their friends’ relationship would last and love was enough to see them through. Eric thought so, though she wasn’t so sure. It worked out for their friends who might not have had such a tempestuous love story and settled into a much more conventional married life, but no matter how much they may have loved each other, Eric and Ellie’s romance was always doomed. “How did they survive each other?” Ellie asks as she and Eric look on at an older couple celebrating a birthday surrounded by children and grandchildren, while all they’re left with is the smouldering embers of a failed love.


Trailer (no subtitles)

BuyBust (Erik Matti, 2018)

BuyBust posterErik Matti follows Richard V. Somes We Will not Die Tonight with another retro exploitation action fest starring a plucky female lead which turns darker than anyone could have imagined. BuyBust is, on the surface, a gritty B-movie filled with ultra violence and relentless bloodshed, but it’s also the latest in a long line of movies to examine the ongoing legacy of the “War on Drugs” in Duterte’s increasingly hardline Philippines.

Our heroine, Manigan (played by very deglammed rom-com star Anne Cutis), is the sole survivor of an armed police squad whose comrades were all wiped out during an operation led by police Lieutenant Dela Cruz (Lao Rodriguez). Regarded as bad luck, she’s only recently been able to find a new squad to join but thanks to her experiences, is struggling to find team spirit when she knows out in the field it might be every man for himself. She is dismayed to realise that her first mission will once again be led by Dela Cruz who has picked up a low-level trafficker, Teban (Alex Calleja), in the hope of luring local drug lord Biggie Chen (Arjo Atayde). When the meet goes South, Teban is summoned to Chen’s lair deep in the Gracia ni Maria slums where all hell breaks loose once the team are spotted and targeted for eradication by Chen’s henchman Chongki (Levi Ignacio).

Though one might assume the police to be the “good guys” – after all, we came here with them, they are in a sense the invaders wading into totally unfamiliar territory where they perhaps have no right to be. The slums are a maze and deliberately so – the confusing environs are a perfect foil for outsiders and the police are indeed quickly lost with no clear idea of how to find their way out. Inhabited by the poorest of the poor, it’s difficult not to come to the conclusion that this land and the people within it have been largely left behind, forgotten by the surrounding city which regards this makeshift community as little more than a living graveyard. The police certainly have little sympathy for the ordinary residents whom they regard as tainted by association, thinking of the slums as a land of wilful lawlessness existing in direct opposition to their need for order.

The locals are well and truly fed up with both sides. They don’t have anything to do with drugs but are frequently caught in the crossfire. Creeping into the slums, the police pass a vigil for a little girl killed during a previous incursion in a literal murder of innocence caused by the internecine battle between law enforcement and drug traffickers. When the trouble starts the locals rise up in an act of revolution, wanting an end once and for all to the violence on their streets which has already taken from them sons, husbands, and little children. They are as angry with the police who refuse to protect them as they are with the drug dealers who endanger their lives by refusing to take their illegal trade somewhere less populated.

Manigan and her squad are law enforcement, but they are also a part of the ongoing extra judicial killings and it’s clear their tactics go well beyond self defence. Cornered, a prominent drug dealer taunts Manigan with her own side’s complicity – something of which she is painfully aware in having figured out that her previous squad were almost certainly betrayed by Dela Cruz whose relationships with his targets seem overly incestuous. Drug raids have become an industry in their own right. Not just the bounties on extra judicial killings, but the ransoms and kick backs corrupt officers accept in order to continue facilitating the drug trade. Actually arresting drug dealers would be financially disastrous for them, and so there are huge vested interests in protecting an illicit conspiracy of corrupt police even if it means sacrificing a few foot soldiers for the cause.

Matti keeps the tension high and the action furious as his hand held camera follows the extremely complex choreography through long takes across tin roofs and through narrow passages filled with seemingly endless supplies of angry aggressors. An infinitely compromised figure, Manigan wants to survive and then to expose the corruption in her own organisation but her fight will be a hard one. A gritty, old fashioned exploitation B-movie, BuyBust reserves its sympathy not for the heroine but for the ordinary men and women of the streets whose fight for survival is daily in a world which is becoming ever more hostile to their very existence.


Screened at London East Asia Festival 2018. Currently streaming on Netflix UK (and possibly other territories)

Original trailer (English subtitles)

Sid & Aya (Not a Love Story) (Irene Villamor, 2018)

Sid & Aya posterIn an increasingly commodified society can there still be room for genuine connection? Sid and Aya attempt to find out in Irene Villamor’s deceptively titled Sid & Aya (Not a Love Story). Sharing much in common with Peter Chan’s Comrades: Almost a Love Story (save for the obvious political allegories), Villamor’s film is a refreshing antidote to the sometimes saccharine, soap opera influenced romantic comedies which often dominate the Philippine box office, swapping classic melodrama for low key indie feels. Yet as much as Sid & Aya is a “love story”, just not of the usual kind, it’s also a perfect encapsulation of a modern social relations as its cynical, amoral hero begins to rediscover his soul through getting to know the tough as nails, wounded but persevering heroine.

Workaholic stockbroker Sid (Dingdong Dantes) is a chronic insomniac. He doesn’t really know what keeps him up at night. He’s read that the causes of sleeplessness include regret, self blame, overthinking, anger, depression, and loneliness but those are things Sid doesn’t particularly want to engage with and so he just muddles through, wasting time in all night coffee shops. It’s in just such a shop that he first runs into Aya (Anne Curtis) – a waitress, and as we will later discover, dry cleaner and performer in a theme park. Aya’s life is very busy but she could always use more cash seeing as she is supporting most of her family including a sickly father and pregnant younger sister while her mum has been working in Japan for almost 20 years, and so she finds herself giving in to Sid’s unusual business proposition – that he pay her for her time while she chats to him to keep his mind off the fact he’s not sleeping so he doesn’t have to keep torturing himself over why that is.

There’s no getting around the fact that it’s an usual arrangement. Money can’t help but complicate everything, but it also makes it easier for the impossibly repressed Sid to begin opening up seeing as this is all transaction and not connection. The pair inevitably grow closer despite the unusual genesis of the relationship, falling in love despite themselves, but Sid is still too busy dealing with the ghosts of the past and his greedy, success hungry insecurity to be willing to take a “risk” on real love rather than take his soulless relationship with his equally soulless “girlfriend” to the next level.

Sid and Aya come from completely worlds. He has an extremely well paid job as a stock broker, she is working three (now four if you count spending time with Sid) jobs just to get by, barely sleeping and still having no money left over to spend on herself. Sid wastes no time letting Aya know that he “fucks people over” for a living, and though he professes to feel no guilt for his part in perpetuating the shadier aspects of capitalism, his world weary voice over betrays a conflict he doesn’t quite want to voice. He starts off thinking he can buy anything, that his money buys him infinite power over people and things. Sid tries to buy Aya, but Aya can’t be bought – she takes his money, but she remains free.

Attempting to escape familial legacy of failure and abandonment, Sid has closed his heart and committed himself to achieving conventional success while Aya has run in the opposite direction – trying to repair her broken family by making enough money to bring her long absent mother back from Japan. Aya’s family has been scattered by the same forces that Sid has chosen to uphold, forces which also threaten to destroy their nascent romance through a series of conflicting world views coupled with personal insecurities and social expectations. Yet the connection forged between them is real enough to have each of them running scared.

Sid claims he has no time for people he doesn’t “need”, while Aya claims she’s tired of loving the people she “needs” to love. Though they perhaps mean very different things with the word “need”, both remain nervous about addressing what it is they might “want” when acquiring it requires so much risk. Love is not something a cynical man like Sid would feel inclined to bet on, but there’s no prize without risk and no sense in taking the chance if you’re not going to bet it all. A messy, grown up romance Sid & Aya (Not a Love Story) is a refreshingly clear eyed look at modern love which finds that true connection is possible but only when you decide to change the game.


Sid & Aya (Not a Love Story) was screened as part of the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Original trailer (English subtitles)