In the mood for lust

By Noel Vera

Erik Matti has directed a number of films ("Scorpio Nights 2," "Ekis"
(Crossed), "Dos Ekis" (Double-Crossed)) that he'd written himself,
and the results were--well, let's just say they were less than
satisfactory. He'd have noir storylines (teacher involved with
student in "Scorpio 2;" kidnap gang collecting ransom in "Ekis;" two
lovers on the run in "Dos Ekis"), in the most outlandish settings (a
school dorm a la Federico Fellini in "Scorpio 2;" apartments behind a
movie screen in "Dos Ekis"). He would throw in grotesque plot
developments (professor dressed in drag, raping his student
in "Scorpio 2;" dead body in a trunk in "Ekis;" sadistic torture of
heroine in "Dos Ekis") that might have been perversely entertaining,
only you're too insulted by the nonsense plots to enjoy yourself,
however perversely.

This time Matti has decided to work with another writer, Roy
Iglesias, and for the first hour at least, the difference shows.
Fresh, pretty-faced Ditas (Aubrey Miles) goes to college in the big
city, driven by Nonoy, a tricycle driver in cool shades (Jay
Manalo). Driving down crowded streets, we get Jay's cynical point of
view in voiceover, which goes something like: "pussy...all that
pussy...if pussies worked hard to earn money, they would make
millions...the Philippines will be saved by hard-working pussy...."
Nonoy is actually a pimp, and he's driving his whore to her "casa"
(whorehouse) to meet the boss, "Mama" Xedes (Racquel Villavicencio).

We get to know the people in the "casa," and we watch some fairly
funny vignettes involving a necrophiliac, a man who wants his own
pair of breasts, another with unbearably smelly feet, so on and so
forth. "Mama" Xedes' is a professionally-run operation--almost
unbelievably so: there's actually a health program going on, as the
girls wait in the "casa's" porch to submit their urine specimens to a
visiting doctor (most prostitutes, I imagine, would go to free
clinics). At one point, "Mama" Xedes asks a girl about to get
married to "please don't leave until we find a substitute."
Employees come and go, but the work must go on, uninterrupted...

The film runs into trouble about the time the conflict starts: Nonoy
falls in love with Ditas, a development "Mama" Xedes has expressly
forbidden, time and time again. Why? "Because it's unlucky," she
explains. Granted, falling in love is inconvenient and
unprofessional (and hers is a really smooth-running operation, with
only an occasional police raid to interrupt the workflow): why is she
so adamantly against it? It's an age-old convention; it's how some
whores become whores--the pimp courts them, makes love to them,
introduces them to his "friends." "Unlucky" is an okay reason, but
it doesn't have any urgency to it--certainly not enough to pin the
conflict of an entire movie on. Iglesias' script, unfortunately,
never satisfactorily settles the matter, leaving the question, the
conflict, and the entire movie hanging in mid-air.

The movie never recovers from its misstep; earlier it had nothing to
prove and no story to follow, so the one-thing-after-another flow of
funny anecdotes worked just fine. Now that there's a premise (a pimp
and whore who fall in love when they shouldn't), Matti has to work up
the necessary lather, and the movie's more than half-over; he has to
build to an intense climax in some twenty minutes. What should be
operatic tragedy comes off more as fast-forward comedy: "Mama" Xedes
suddenly has to play villainess, and it doesn't fit what we
previously knew about her nurturing nature. Nonoy has to storm up
the stairs, storm off, storm back, ask forgiveness, and basically go
berserk for no particularly sensible reason. Ditas--well, Ditas
doesn't really do much of anything, except have sex. She copulates
with Nonoy in a closet, then in his tricycle; you wonder why she
doesn't fall out the closet door (most closets I know don't lock from
inside), or tricycle (she leans against a plastic tarp that shouldn't
hold her for a second, conveniently ignoring a nearby handlebar).

It's a disappointing development, and with all the shrieking
hysterics amidst the strikingly lit alleyways and rain-shower
effects, unbidden thoughts come to your mind like: Ditas works in
a "casa" and has a pimp? Pimps are a street prostitute's agent; they
search for likely customers, haggle over price, and bring them over
for servicing. A "casa" prostitute depends on walk-in customers; she
doesn't need a pimp (if a "casa" prostitute went out to solicit,
she'd be moonlighting--and probably encroaching on some street
whore's territory). We see Nonoy waiting around in the "casa's"
porch (that porch has got to be the town's social center), and
delivering her to various high-powered customers, in which case he's
probably not her pimp but the "casa's" bouncer and courier. Did
anyone actually do any research for this movie?

Jay Manalo's Nonoy is intensely played, but he seems incapable of
coherent thinking or decision-making--a prime example of a man with
gonads for brains. Which is fine--intelligence in a character is not
a prerequisite--as long as the movie recognizes his stupidity and
uses it, perhaps satirically, but no: Nonoy is seen as tragic (he's
not just an idiot, he's a tragic idiot). Aubrey Miles' Ditas, aside
from not doing much, does the little she does without much talent;
her coyly displayed nipples are her entire performance. Ditas'
sister prostitutes--Hazel Espinosa and Pinky Amador come to mind--are
a lively, funny bunch that help keep the first hour entertaining, but
are largely forgotten in the last half-hour, which kills the movie.
As "Mama" Xedes, Racquel Villavicencio (who seems to be channeling
someone, I just can't say who), has languor and mystery and a
fantastically sensual low-pitched purr that outclasses every hooker
in the picture, including Miles (she shouldn't be a madam; she should
be commanding the highest prices). It's almost criminal of Matti to
hobble her performance with a Captain Hook eyepatch, then give her a
character that barely makes sense, on paper or on the big screen.

Villavicencio is actually more than just a character actor, she's a
formidable scriptwriter who's worked with Mike de Leon ("Kakabakaba
Ka Ba?" (Worried?), "Kisapmata" (Blink of an Eye), "Batch '81")) and
Laurice Guillen ("Init sa Magdamag" (Midnight Passion)). Why didn't
Matti ask her to write the script for the film, or at least look it
over for problems, or at the very least ask her advice about
character motivation and plot development? It's not as if
Villavicencio is a stranger to or disapproves of sexuality in movies--
"Init" is one of the most erotic films in Philippine cinema. She
would have been the perfect choice to write "Prosti," only Matti
isn't exactly known for making sensible, coherent choices, much less
sensible, coherent movies.

(Comments? Email me at noelbotevera@...)