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.

Tulad ng Dati (2006)

Tulad ng Dati (Mike Sandejas, 2006)
English Title: Just Like Before

Michael Sandejas' initial directorial effort Tulad ng Dati (Just Like Before) is an imperfect film. It is ridden with conventional tropes: the selective amnesia background, the girls and drugs mixture of your typical rock and roll flick, the final face-off between two rival bands (the rival band is of course, cardboard cut-outs of annoying faux-musicians), the life-altering dream sequences segueing to the main character's metanoia. It has uneven pacing: it drags a lot when it wallows in tear-jerking drama, it suddenly paces a lot better when the band starts performing their familiar songs.

It's not a film that is not supposed to work. It is overtly sentimental, unabashedly melodramatic, and incongruent in its technical aspects. However, you are drawn to the film like a metal bearing to a magnet. In its narrative's delightful simplicity, you find what could be the greatest cinematic ode to a Filipino rock icon. In Sandejas' sincerity and unembarrassed fanaticism springs a low-budget concert film that works like a miracle.

The Dawn is a band that started in 1985, performing New Wave music to crowds of adoring fans. In 1988, guitarist Teddy Diaz was killed in a hold-up incident. The band managed to live through the tragedy until 1995 when it abruptly disbanded. In 2000, The Dawn reappeared to the delight of many Filipino fans, and just recently released their latest album also entitled "Tulad ng Dati." What's fascinating about The Dawn is that the band always itself updated with the times. If you examine their entire discography, you can probably surmise the moods and changes in the local music scene; from the comforts of new wave rhythm, to the angst of alternative rock, and the emotional heights of sentimental pop. Moreover, aside from the outward indications of their work, The Dawn's music signifies the years of worries, troubles, and angst that is survived by its members.

Sandejas takes his cue from the richness of his material. He plunges the present members of the band into what lead singer Jett Pangan calls the twilight zone when he becomes afflicted with a curious type of amnesia that only allows him to remember up to 1988. That means he is not aware that he's already married, that his band has survived through highs and lows, that the entire culture of music-listening has changed, and that fantastic guitarist Teddy Diaz has died.

What happens after is a lot less grand than what is expected. Sandejas' screenplay doesn't entreat us to bigger prospects or philosophical musings. Instead, he keeps his material as pedestrian as possible, which I completely understand. The film is after all a tribute film; Sandejas works with a formula. There's a conventional quality to his filmmaking, which is quite surprising since almost every so-called indie filmmaker are always bent on outdoing each other with style and technique. There are no surprising edits, no unique camera angles. The film actually plays like a string of music videos tied together by Sandejas' convenient narrative. Except for the effectively nightmarish production design of Jett's dream sequence with Teddy Diaz (Ping Medina), the film looks rather drab and simple. Acting can be a problem too, especially from the members of the band, who aside from some magical moments, merely recite their dialogues out of mere convenience. Pangan and drummer JB Leonor seem to be the best among the non-professional actors. Medina, Mylene Dizon (who plays Pangan's ex-girlfriend) and Agot Isidro (who plays Pangan's wife) lend professional creds to the cast.