Dinig Sana Kita (2009)

Dinig Sana Kita (Mike Sandejas, 2009)

English Title: If I Knew What You Said

Mike Sandejas' Dinig Sana Kita (If I Knew What You Said) is crafted from the same mold that birthed the slew of romances coming out of the bigger film studios. It will not be inaccurate to declare Sandejas' second feature film formulaic. Two souls from different backgrounds (the girl is a wealthy troublemaker, while the boy is a deaf-mute orphan), with different passions (the girl is the lead singer of a rock band, while the boy is a dancer), and with different personal issues (the girl is disconnected from her family, while the boy is desperately searching for his mother) serendipitously meet in a police precinct (after the two of them found themselves entangled in separate brawls), before finally geting to know each other better in a deaf-mute camp in Baguio. The two souls eventually fall in love, solve their respective problems, and presumably live happily ever after, full of wholesome love, in true modern fairy tale fashion.

Dinig Sana Kita cannot be faulted for its reliance to formula. The film possesses an earnestness that is quite refreshing in an age where the romances that the major film studios produce, while oftentimes impeccably made and indulgent in pomp and sparkle, are often lacking in that department. The emotions felt from these escapist trifles are predominantly skin-deep, attributable to the fact that these films are often primarily star-driven, with its teen actors and actresses play-acting roles instead of portraying actual characters. Thus, while we get the occasional tingle from watching these films (or in some rare cases where the studio machinery miraculously works, be left with a elatedly amorous aftertaste), the lack of investment will inevitably take its toll. When the hallucinogens emitted by stars and starlets directed to artificially swoon for each other and commit lines of undying love start to fade, we are left with nothing else but stale air.

Dinig Sana Kita is gifted with two precious leads. Zoe Sandejas, the director's own daughter who is gifted with a camera-friendly aura, infuses Niña, the film's trouble-making rocker chick, with an effortless mix of angst and pain. Romalito Mallari, who we learn in the film's end is really a deaf-mute and is actually, like the character he is playing, is searching for his real father, plays Kiko, the film's dancing deaf-mute leading man, with a wholeheartedness that is absolutely affecting. Together, their onscreen charm is undeniable, carrying the film throughout, making its low points palatable and its high points stirring. In other words, sheer charm, provided in excessive quantaties by the two leads' charismatic performances, holds the romance together and more. However, romance is not enough for Sandejas. Dinig Sana Kita attempts to mix advocacy with romance, causing confusion as to whether the advocacy is there to facilitate the romance, or the romance is there to provide a framework to the advocacy.

Sandejas is a wily filmmaker. Tulad ng Dati (Just Like Before, 2006), while intriguing with its premise of a real life band member waking up from a coma and unable to recall anything that happened after 1988, relies heavily on the popularity of its subject, The Dawn, a popular band that continues to evolve since its creation in the 80's, the death of its guitarist, its decline in fame, and its return to the limelight, up to the present. Dinig Sana Kita showcases Sandejas improved as a craftsman, since the film is more visually and aurally pleasing. However, a glaring problem remains with that prevents Sandejas from being a filmmaker to be reckoned with, and that is a lack of a distinct purpose.

Sure, his films are pleasant, with Dinig Sana Kita proving to be quite the crowd pleaser. With two films under his belt, Sandejas has proven to be a director that has become too comfortable working with crutches (the band in Tulad ng Dati, and the deaf-mute angle in Dinig Sana Kita). Apart from an undying affinity with music and a proven desire to stay within his comfort zone, Sandejas seems to be either of the following: an irrelevant figure in a filmmaking scene that thirsts for new voices; or a pertinent talent that is bridging the imaginary divide between the masses that are continuously delighted despite the redundancy in escapist cinema and the informed minority who perceive the proliferation of escapist cinema as an unnecessary cultural excess.