Away from all commercial hype, the script has excellent artistic credentials. It won for writer Antoinette Jadaone, in 2014, the third place Palanca for Dulang Pampelikula [film plays]. So for all those who think its too jologs [tacky], think again.
Though it is no Lualhati Bautista*, still the film as executed has a lilting, polished feel to it, courtesy of witty repartee that seems at the same time intellectual and crowd pleasing. There are brilliant moments, such as when the male lead Anthony refuses to toast to “the great people we could have been.” Mace, the female protagonist, tries again. “To the great people we will be”, question mark. He breaks into a smile. “To the great people we will be”, period.
As much as it appears that it is the girl who drives the story with her crazy ideas, it is the boy who follows her all the way who deserves a closer look. It is Anthony who brings levity to Mace and her over-reactions and pop culture verve.
The effervescent Angelica Panganiban is well-cast as Mace. In real life she is the sweetheart of John Lloyd Cruz, iconic romantic lead and box-office king. Many eyes must have lit up at the gleeful inside joke when Mace rambles about the many positive qualities of John Lloyd. Mace wails: John Lloyd never makes his girlfriends cry – he will do all the crying for them. Anthony rolls his eyes.
But JM de Guzman, tall, dark, and handsome, may just be the new type of John Lloyd Cruz. He plays Anthony with the same simpatico charm, minus the weeping. He’s not going to give John Lloyd or, for that matter, Derek Ramsay (another of Angelica’s lovers referred to in the movie, how hilarious is that) a run for his money anytime soon, but he might quite shape up to be the boy next door who bats his cute eyes and makes everything fall into place.
The film does not need to resort to closeups of the face, like in John Lloyd movies, or of the abs, like in Derek’s. But JM, with shades of John Estrada and Piolo Pascual, gingerly steps into matinee idol territory as he delivers his dialogue fresh-faced and rosy-lipped all the time.
Character-wise, Anthony is almost perfect. He is sensitive, funny, smart, quotes Fitzgerald!, sings Whitney friggin’ Houston!, earnest – and wait for it – emotionally and physically available. He’s there when you need him the most. He’s there when you need him, period. He will talk about his feelings; he is present in the moment, big or small; not only does he cuddle, he likes it.
He is sweet but flirty, maginoo pero medyo bastos [gentlemanly with a bit of naughty]. He tells you you’re hot in a non-creepy way. He doesn’t take advantage, despite so many opportunities to do so. When he dreams of a girl, of course it’s not a wet dream; it is trite and unexceptional, yet achingly adorable. He loves art, and paints. He treats his own body as a canvass and gets tasteful tattoos.
He is reliable and rational – juxtaposed with emotional, which Mace is in particular and women in general.When he realizes they’ve left their baggage back in Baguio, he tries to map a plan to get it back. Mace however mollifies him, saying it’s just clothes. But this is where for me, he turns unreal, too good to be true. He agrees and forgets all about the stuff from their respective Roman holidays. Oh come on! Be spontaneous, not stupid.
At this point the film has already lured one in with its skillfully woven and refreshingly simple dialogue. It takes only a little bit of push to be distracted from that plot line – hello there, suspension of disbelief – because the screen then pans to Sagada’s beautiful scenery and breathtaking landscapes. Nature can awe like that.
If there is a climax in this conflict-free, contravida-less movie, it could be that moment Mace yells at the top of her lungs, “ayoko ko na!” [I don’t want this anymore]. How primordial, how raw. As with every big burden – career, school, family, social life – this kind of angst is sweeping and heady. (This is why we got rid of Marcos and Estrada as presidents. What say you now, with Aquino? Wink.) It is a wholesale admission that the bad has outshadowed the good.
And then it dawns. Figuratively, leaving it all behind makes a lot of sense. While literally leaving baggage behind is hasty and reckless, as metaphor it is textbook solution to every broken heart. Leave what weighs you down. It’s not as simple as one thinks, because remember the arrow that had a heart pierced through it? It felt heavier when the heart had fallen off.
Problem is, there’s no scale to measure this kind of baggage. Something as complicated as love, invariably, has no concept of pounds and excess (true in more ways than one).
When Mace and Anthony arrive in Manila, sans suitcases, there’s one last piece of past to deal with. It is soon dispatched as Anthony establishes the ultimate peg in the man-dreamboat: he fights for the girl. It’s antithetical to that ageless adage “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours”. With few words the story is soon resolved, closing with that small, astute sequence where Anthony drives with a book on his lap.
“Kung mahal mo, habulin mo, ipaglaban mo...Hilahin mo. Hanggang kaya mo, wag kang bibitaw.” [If you love her, go after her, fight for her...Pull her back. Until you can, don’t let go.] Bold words, yes, but at the same time prudent. Anthony shows us how it is to be is decisive. As Anakbayan puts it, dare to struggle, dare to win.
So where indeed do broken hearts go? To Rome and its epic ruins? To Sagada as the sun rises? To Baguio to get lost in the crowd? To a videoke bar to drown out the pain? To a massage parlor to ease off the ache? The film will not answer the question that headlined its posters because it’s too clever asking another. How do broken hearts heal?
*Lualhati Bautista penned Palanca (dubbed the local Pulitzer) winning pieces “Dekada ’70” and “Bata, Bata, Paano Ka Ginawa”. Both were made into movies.
Original published on the Philippine Online Chronicles: http://thepoc.net/index.php/lessons-from-the-heartbreak-club-leave-your-baggage-behind/