Life is not a tower of peanut butter
sandwiches.
|
|
| Credits: https://taylordfood.wordpress.com/ |
Right off the bat,
let me say this. This is NOT a second chance, folks. This is
technically the third chance.
If you want to come in better equipped
for this movie sequel, you need to see the “One More Chance” part
which started all this “hugot” heart-wrenching lines on coming to
terms with love the second time around. Then, you will understand why
literally the second chance had passed for the two main characters,
Popoy and Basha, when they chose to start over after one
significantly messy breakup, and this chapter is their third chance.
You will understand the engineer-architect partnership as well as the
Thursday dinners that they had to have with their circle of friends,
which called for at least one occasion or significant event to be celebrated
each time. And yeah, you will understand THAT “shampoo” joke
(That one I never got the entire time I was in the movie house,
considering that I've seen the first movie more than once).
I'm writing this
sort-of review, fresh from seeing the movie hours ago. I haven't read
any movie review from the authorities out there. I steered clear of
opinions and any article discussing perspectives on the movie to have
an objective, clean slate before going in and seeing the
movie. I heard rave reviews, but those were expected patriotism
coming from the network channel and stars sharing the same movie
outfit, Star Cinema. I came in “briefed” with only three spoilers
courtesy of watching accidentally the night time talk show, Tonight
with Boy Abunda: (1) Popoy's struggles over a business on the verge
of bankruptcy, (2) falling in love with failure, and (3) the what-if
vs. what-is analogy. On hindsight, these were actually the skeleton,
the three main bones, that make up the story of “A Second Chance”.
Recently, Star
Cinema was more experimental and veered away from the usual story-telling sequence. A Second Chance's story was hinged on an amateur
thesis interview conducted by a Psychology student with the married
couple, Popoy and Basha. There is similarity with the approach done
for another Star Cinema movie, Bride for Rent, but this one took a
more serious note. Such experimental takes are more than welcome. We
are tired of the usual chronology of events from childhood to
adulthood, from January to December, from friendship to romance.
Popoy and Basha's
transition from the just-married to struggling-to-stay-married phases
seemed believable. Basha's ever-present wigs and the back-and-forth
from chic to “losyang” were there to pace the audience as we
witnessed the wife's evolution throughout the different stages of
marriage. The items of interest during the couple's arguments ranged
from trivial cutlery and attempts at interior design to the gnawing
probability of a third party. There was the attempt to capture as
closely as possible these real-couple conflicts. But hey, you have to
fit all seven years in two hours of movie time! It felt strangled and
heavy, at least for me. But I guess, that was the intent anyway.
Arci Muñoz and
Billy Crawford's characters were new in this sequel and were
introduced for conflict. For me, they were not perfectly effective in
coming across as believably whole characters. They appeared as almost
one-dimension caricature-ish accidents that were written out
to be inclined on particular mannerisms and ideals. But they
did manage to deliver the expected rift to tip off further the
ongoing imbalance between the married couple.
Khalil Ramos'
character as the young, wide-eyed, most junior employee of Popoy and
Basha's firm was more memorable. He was actually there, present. With
his convenience-store morning coffee and enthusiasm. Even with less
dialogue and exposure, he came across as very relatable. In his short
moments as Noel the character, we went back to that time when we were
that same twenty-something hopeful, with so much faith in the world.
I felt that there
was conscious effort to incorporate “hugot” quotable lines in the
movie. Too conscious in fact, that the lines had to be in English
prose –- the kind of well-written reflections you get after going
on a solitary retreat or getting drunk. These lines provided
cinematic appeal to the mandatory scenes of pain and angst: the
close-ups of the actors, the tears, the pregnant pause. But they are
far from the real deal. It's kind of hard to imagine real people
conversing like that. Can't blame the writer. The bar was set too
high by “One More Chance” whose lines became so classic that they
stuck with us for nearly a decade. I bet we will still be quoting
these for a much longer time. A Second Chance, on the other hand, was
too choreographed to really resonate, to gain even “semi-real” depth.
What was my
take-away? I don't want to use the what-if, what-is, what-was and
what-will-be analogy here, though I think that that was the point the
movie was trying to get across. Good point, but it seemed overused. I
hope the analogy wasn't mentioned more than once in the film. A scene
or a message, if strong enough, can stand on its own and need not be
repeated to drive a point.
I'm allowed my own
perspective, I hope. My take-away from the movie? Hmm. Less is
more.
For me, the more poignant scenes – the ones that moved me – were those with
less dialogues. The wide-eyed innocence in Khalil Ramos' Noel as everybody else left the office. That
scene when Basha came home and hugged her mother. No words, just
tears. Several shots of peanut butter sandwich towers throughout the film – the first
one perfectly balanced, the last one almost leaning to collapse.
Those said a lot.
I wish there were
less words in some pivotal scenes. To show that Popoy and Basha were no longer sitting next
to each other. That Popoy cared. That Basha was in so much pain.
When they remembered their marriage vows. That way, I (and audiences like me) would have more time to empathize and feel the crests and
troughs of holding on and letting go.
Overall, A Second
Chance delivered. On cinema and box office expectations. Tears,
“hugot” lines, and ever afters. These are the things that sell.
But life, the real one outside the silver screen, is more complex ---
salty and sweet, well-measured and planned but with surprising
degrees of failure. Like a tower of peanut butter sandwiches. Or
maybe not.
SPOILER ALERT. Stop
here if you have not seen the movie yet and do not want to get some
juicy bits ahead. Don't tell me I didn't warn you.
