Azucena: It's a dog's life

Rated "A" by the Film Ratings Board, Azucena is Carlitos Siguion-Reyna in sheer control of the medium. Adapted from the Palanca Award-winning screenplay of Eric Ramos, Azucena is that rare find of a film. Where other directors would wring the major dramatic scenes of a film for every emotion and pathos they can muster, Carlitos opts for understatement and subtlety through brisk, muscular editing. The film is underscored by themes reminiscent of a Greek tragedy. Carlitos refuses to linger, injecting grim humor where least expected. Coming in at some 85 minutes, this is story-telling that for a drama/tragedy, is propelled at a practically breakneck pace; especially in the last 30 minutes of the film.

Ostensibly about the "marginalized," the film revolves around the lives of the four main characters. There's Tomas (played by Ricky Davao) a suspended policeman now relegated to working in the Municipal Records Section; Sonia, his second wife (Glydel Mercado) who blindly considers Tomas as a provider of respectability; Lily (Alessandra de Rossi), Tomas' daughter from his first marriage; and Teban (Dante Rivero) the local oddity who lives alone in a ramshackle shed, dog-catcher and butcher of the neighborhood -- no points for guessing the kind of meat he supplies. All "ordinary people." At one level, the film becomes an exploration into how the mundane are driven to become the lurid blood-red headlines of the daily tabloids. How, without meaning to be something special or achieve the extraordinary, people and events can conspire and end up the stuff of tragedy.

Carlitos does wonders with his cast. Ricky is a natural, and it's not surprising. Involved with two of the major films of the last year (Saranggola and Bayaning Third World), Ricky is sheer malevolence in this film. The beauty of Carlitos' direction is that nowhere is this characterization more evident than in the scene where through lighting alone (the shutters of the window), the extent to which his dark intentions will lower themselves are made evident. All throughout the film there's the constant notion of Ricky's character teetering on some hair-trigger, ever ready to snap and "cross the line."

Of special mention is Alessandra's first major dramatic role. In the tradition of Jodie Foster's breakthrough role in Taxi Driver, here is a budding major talent who has found a director cognizant of the potential of this ingenue. With maturity belying her age and experience, Alessandra essays the role of an "angel with a rebellious streak." All her outbursts are carefully controlled, as befits her role of a woman/child trapped in a "lose/lose" situation.

Dante gives a bravura performance of the man with the dehumanized occupation, who turns out to be the most essentially "human" among them. Ostracized and shunned by even the lowest of the low in the barangay; he's forced to live on the "outside" of this already marginalized community. His sparse and restrained yet rich emoting is a joy to watch. Inured to living on his own; we share with him the pained, confused and stumbling effort to reach out and establish a friendship with Lily.

And then, there's Glydel. Grand slam winner for Best Supporting Actress this year (for Sidhi), Glydel provides a masterful portrayal of range and depth. Forced to keep her verbal dialogue to the role of dutiful wife and stepmother; it's her facial expressions, the grimaces and lingering confused looks that betray the slow descent into madness and the doubt that slowly creeps into her outlook on life. The gradual realization that her "storybook marriage and pregnancy," is not what it is, comes solely through the asides and "last split-second" looks on her face that Carlitos gives us. That she comes through with flying colors is testament to the growth and maturity of this blossoming actress.

It's in his masterful control of the other major elements of this film that Carlitos truly comes across. Throughout the film, there's a constant play with the audience through foreshadowing and dark humor. For example, the innocuous paperback lying on the desk of the municipal doctor is a portent of the grim things to come. At the moment we least expect it, a cellphone comes into play to provide relief of sorts in another violent scene. There's a visceral punch to the film. During the climax, we share with the policemen the nausea they experience upon entering the home of Tomas. In one dream sequence, there's bathos when the mother of Lily leaves on what could be her "last boat/raft to Guam."

With the soundtrack and choice of music, Carlitos also provides a richness to the tapestry he's unfolding. Distorted guitar feedback is a constant reminder of the undercurrents that belie the patina of normalcy and everyday life that is on display. The innocence of a plaintive Christmas carol heralds the darkest of scenes. In fact, the tension of the steel wires of the banduria seems to reflect the brittleness of the lives and fortunes of the characters.

Along with all the nonverbal emoting that transpires, these elements act as our signpost for the internal development of the characters. And it's sheer joy to see Carlitos employ them to create a suffocating sense of a noose being tightened, as events and characters collide towards what we least expect, in tems of resolution. As in life, so much of the film operates on several levels. There's the level of what is being said and seen, and the level of what is actually happening. Witness the superbly staged Christmas morning gift-giving, and the constant charade that Sonia puts on to convince herself that all is well. Little ironies abound, interspersed for us to notice and appreciate -- like how Lily saves her dog from Teban only to end up having to put the dog down.

I once asked Bibeth Orteza (Carlitos' wife) what the film was about, and in typical Bibeth fashion, she said it's how women, children and dogs are the oppressed of this world. Naturally, there's more to it than that; and what is revealing is that in incorporating so many culturally-specific Filipino aspects to the film, Carlitos has made a film with universal themes. Its films such as Azucena that, in fact, have the "legs" to travel abroad, with themes an international audience can empathize with. If it gets the nod of international film festivals, it will be interesting to see whether some short-sighted, narrow-minded politician or diplomat will condemn the film as a shameful depiction of the Philippines. Foreseeing this and other possible adverse reactions from the "global audience," Carlitos has placed a disclaimer to the effect that no animal was harmed in the making of this film.