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Movie Reviews
by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Friday, November 20, 2009 
Twilight Saga: New Moon is a movie that was definitely made for the fans. Between its dogged faithfulness to the source text and the almost exploitative level of general shirtlessness, this is a movie designed specifically for the market that the Twilight books were intended for. If you already happen to be a fan of the books, then you’re already in the theater. Taken apart from fandom, the movie is overly long with a story that feels largely unnecessary.
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by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Monday, November 16, 2009 
Roland Emmerich wants to destroy the world. The filmmaker has made his career on crumbling monuments and large-scale death scenes, and will use any excuse to do so. His latest excuse is a largely debunked mistranslation of the Mayan calendar. 2012 finds Emmerich sinking Los Angeles and consuming Las Vegas in an ash cloud, all while a plucky group of survivors attempt to outrun these disasters in whatever vehicle they happen to be in at the time. 2012 can be oddly entertaining at times, but it’s mostly repetitive and unjustifiably long. Who knew the apocalypse would take so long.
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by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 12, 2009 
Hellphone feels like an approximation of a horror movie, an attempt at producing a scary film by people who don’t really understand or respect the genre. All semblance of plot is abandoned as the film sets about creating scene after scene where a while lady stands around where the characters can’t see them, or grabs something from under the bed. It’s all the dumbest trappings of horror films without any of the context that makes it work. Hellphone only thinks it’s scary. It’s mostly just boring.
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by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 12, 2009 
You already know what I’m going to write about Ang Tanging Pamilya. You already know what the movie’s going to be like, even if you haven’t seen it. You know there will be sped up footage of people running around. You know DJ Durano’s going to show up in a role that could have easily been written out. You know that at some point, someone’s going to be reciting lines from some other hit film. You know that the filmmaking is going to be sub par. You know that outtakes are going to run over the credits. You already know exactly what you’re going to get: a whole heaping mess of more of the same from Wenn Deramas.
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by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Wednesday, November 11, 2009 
How does one begin to review a film like Ang Panggagahasa Kay Fe? It would be prudent at the very least, to mention what I wrote in my capsule review in my coverage of the CInemalaya festival. Director and producer Alvin Yapan and producer Alemberg Ang were both my teachers at various points in my education, and most likely played a part in the development of whatever critical acumen I might possess. Take that fact as you like. But the problem I face in reviewing this film has little to do with whatever connections I might have to its prime movers. It is in tackling the density of the film’s literature, in getting entangled in its symbolism and imagery, and how that all matters in the final viewing of the picture. It is in acknowledging that there is more to the film than can be discussed in the 600 hundred or so words that these reviews fill up.
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by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 5, 2009 
Estasyon wraps a lot of fiction around a kernel of truth. A small true story is made to be a platform for a larger commentary on devotion in this country, and a strained allegory referring to the Passion of Jesus Christ. Also, a few very true scenes shot in Quiapo during the feast of the Black Nazarene are enveloped in a fiction that doesn’t end up saying as much. Estasyon is a story of unnecessary fictions, of wonderful little bits of truth getting buried under a whole lot of excessive writing. Luckily enough, the truth does prevail.
by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 5, 2009 
If there is a drawback to the independent digital film movement, it is that films like I Love Dreamguyz get made. Mainstream director Joel Lamangan has brought his lack of finesse and intense cynicism to local independent cinema, producing films that serve no other purpose than to cash in on the growing market for exploitation films that feature plenty of naked bodies, gay sex, and no redeeming value. There is an argument to be made about commercial viability and its legitimacy in this marketplace, but that’s beyond the realm of what ought to be discussed here. The main issue of this film is simple: every time a door opens, something stupid happens.
by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 5, 2009 
There ought to be a hyphen in the title Law Abiding Citizen between the words “law” and “abiding.” That may seem like a pithy observation, but it’s actually indicative of one of the major problems of the movie. There’s a pretty serious argument about the nature of justice in a modern society at the very heart of this film. But when a movie can’t even get the syntax of its title right, how is it supposed to be able to make its case intelligently? Law Abiding Citizen only thinks it’s smart, but it’s mostly pretty ridiculous.
Clyde Shelton (Gerard Butler) watched his family die in front of him during a home invasion. The two perpetrators were caught, but one of them gets off easy thanks to a deal made by cynical but brilliant prosecutor Nick Rice (Jamie Foxx) trying to protect his conviction rate. Ten years later, Shelton reemerges to brutally murder the men that entered his home on that fateful night. He’s quickly arrested, and Rice, lacking the evidence to convict him, is trying to get him to confess to the crime. But Shelton has a few secrets up his sleeve, and even within the walls of prison, he’s seemingly able to continue killing everyone involved in the case ten years ago. Rice has to figure out Shelton’s game before he destroys everything.
by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Thursday, November 5, 2009 
The story of LeBron James and the St. Vincent-St. Mary Fighting Irish has always been the kind of stuff movies were made of. Four young friends work their way out of a linoleum floored gymnasium to go on and become an American phenomenon before falling into the trappings of fame, getting complacent, and learning a lesson on their way to one final chance of redemption. And that’s exactly what More Than a Game: a documentary that also functions as a pretty great sports movie. It doesn’t address everything that it can, but what’s left is still pretty compelling stuff.
by Philbert Ortiz Dy posted on Wednesday, November 4, 2009 
All About Steve might be the worst movie in Sandra Bullock’s body of work. While Bullock has never been considered much of a serious artist, there’s often an odd sincerity to her work that makes everything palatable. It is this sincerity that is missing in All About Steve, producing perhaps one of the most misguided attempts to promote the idea of nonconformity. It is a whirlwind of bad ideas passed off as quirk, mostly resulting in a whole lot of irritating behavior.
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