The last time I watched a Filipino movie, I cried. But it was a comedy! The experience cemented my faith in the Filipino filmmaker. They possess this astonishing gift of legerdemain. They turn tearjerkers into comedies. Historical sagas develop into musicals. Slapstick becomes tragic.

Local cinema creates ogres out of haloed beings, the demented becomes sane and Lilliputs transform into Brobdingnags.

While Looney Tunes cartoons boast of coyotes and roadrunners defying several laws of physics (yes sweetie, you could walk off a cliff without worrying about gravity), typical Filipino movies unwittingly present prejudiced depiction of human characters and hostile paradoxes.

What producers claim to be opuses, cerebral viewers call kitsch.

These and several other ingredients make them uniquely Filipino. So characteristically Pinoy that even if you dubbed them in Swahili or Esperanto and then exported to Africa, local Bantu tribes would still recognize them as Philippine-made.

Inept law enforcers. It’s not surprising why a majority of Filipinos developed so much contempt and disrespect for men in uniform. Local movies depict them as three-toed sloths who arrive at crime scenes three minutes before the film credits roll. Villains were all dead and the unscathed protagonist was left standing. He did all the shooting and the punching sans the help of the cops.

The crooked town mayor. Filipino action movies have a long history of bias against them. They are always portrayed as corrupt public servants, chronic womanizers, coddlers of drug syndicates, operators of illegal numbers games, protector of prostitution dens, and keeper of private armies. While the characterization is often justified as a reflection of reality, it remains an apparent attack on the character of an official elected to an esteemed post by his constituents.

Moustached sexual offenders. What’s with bearded men that directors find so fiendish? They always cast them as sex criminals. Fact is, the likes of Rez Cortez, Pen Medina, Ruel Vernal, Paquito Diaz and Raoul Aragon are the epitome of unquestionable masculinity. Unfairly though, they are always cast as lurking psychopaths waiting for their next victim. On and off the screen they are loathed – and how! Apparently for local movie makers, facial hairs are a prerequisite for evil.

Vengeful lead characters. Local action films almost always revolve around the lead role’s vengeful pursuits. And who would not? His girlfriend is raped; his parents are killed; his sister is forced to work in a brothel; land grabbers strip his poor grandfather of livelihood, et cetera. The bida never runs out of reasons to retaliate. "Huwag kayong mag-alala Inay, Itay. Isinusumpa ko sa inyong puntod, mananagot ang may kagagawan nito!"

Euthanasia. Picture this: Lead character is shot. He falls to the ground. Leading lady enters the scene but instead of asking for help or performing first aid, she breaks into tears and engages herself in a three-page dialogue with the wounded. "Karen, sa tingin ko ay hindi na ako magtatagal." [Translation: Don’t you just sit there moron, call an ambulance!] "Huwag kang magsalita ng ganyan Mario. Hindi ka pababayaan ng Diyos." [Translation: I just met somebody richer and hunkier. I can afford to lose you.] Thus, before he could utter his last line, he gasps for air and then ugh, silence. "May ipagtatapat nga pala ako sa ‘yo! May nakatago akong yaman sa... ugh!" [Translation: I’d rather die than share my fortune with you, you gold-digger!] Girl wails some more. Screen turns black and two words appear: THE END.

Choreographed beach scene. When ordinary townsfolk start to perform production numbers in a beach replete with choreography, chances are, you are watching a local comedy film. Love teams frolic in water as they sing in duets. The scene ends as the movie’s theme song fades.

Useless firearm. Enraged armed wo/men are dangerous, right? Wrong! At least not in Filipino movies. Consider this scene: mad wife aims gun at her philandering hubby. Husband yells, "Iputok mo! Ano pang hinihintay mo? Iputok mo!" She had all the opportunities to get back at him. End of the road for his perfidy. But no! Wife freezes, weeps, then drops the gun. Her effort to reform an unfaithful spouse ends where her quest for martyrdom begins.

Blag. I’m gone. One part of the house that’s almost always unjustly abused in local drama flicks is that movable panel used to close an entrance called door. "Huwag mo akong tatalikuran dahil kinakausap pa kita! Blag!" One heated argument after another and one more door is ruthlessly slammed! "Lumayas ka rito! Wala kang utang na loob. Blag!" Seriously, I dread the day that doors decide to avenge man’s atrocity. So be afraid. Be very afraid.

Not a few people raised a howl when Crying Ladies took home the Best Picture plum in last year’s Metro Manila Film Festival. After all, the film, promoted by Unitel Productions as a comedy - deviates from your usual slapstick material. It was funny indeed. But look ‘ma, no choreographed beach scenes; no kidnap-me-so-my-boyfriend-could-rescue-me-later plot. Not so suprisingly, the movie picked up from its poor box office showing only after the awards night.

No matter how Filipinos brag about being intelligent moviegoers, the fact remains - they are suckers for formulaic cinema. And unless we shun them, local producers will continue offering us more of the same.

"Baliw ang nagsasabing isinilang na ang aking karibal. You’ll never make it. You’re nothing but a second-rate trying hard copycat! Splasssh!" –Laviña Arguelles (Cherie Gil), Bituing Walang Ningning


[You may a email the author at ilove_csi@hotmail.com. Same address is used to access his friendster account. Pax! ]

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