Alpha, The Right to Kill is a spinoff of award-winning filmmaker Brillante Mendoza’s Netflix series Amo, which is a spinoff of his 2016 Cannes film Ma’Rosa. And so Alpha feels third-tier. A ho-hum narrative that comes from a material so overused in the Filipino auteur’s work that it no longer triggers excitement.

It aims to provide an inside look into the deep underground of drug trafficking, using fictionalized names and incidents

Alpha, like Amo and Ma’Rosa, is based on facts, fished from Mendoza and screenwriter Troy Espiritu’s vault of research materials and interviews with real people involved in the illegal drug trade. It aims to provide an inside look into the deep underground of drug trafficking, using fictionalized names and incidents. However, Alpha offers nothing new.

PHOTO shows (from left) FDCP chairperson Liza Diño, SM Cinema VP for Corporate Ruby Reyes, director Brillante Mendoza, SM SVP for Marketing Millie Dizon and Solar Pictures general manager Butch Ibañez during the Philippine premier of “Alpha: The Right to Kill” at the Director’s Club Cinema at The Podium. Perhaps one can argue that there’s literally nothing new to say as the film only wants to mirror reality and is not interested in fiction. But it forgets that the audience has to feel something. The problem of this social realism drama is not the information seeded to the audience, but the film’s serious lack of intimacy with its own material. The characters are not interesting. They are easily interchangeable with most of the players in Amo, which also happens to star Allen Dizon, one of Alpha’s protagonists.

Alpha follows Elijah (Elijah Filamor) and Espino (Dizon), both family men, as they lead dangerous lives in this era of Duterte’s war on drugs. Espino is a corrupt police officer, while Elijah is a small-time drug pusher used by Espino as an informant, or alpha, to crack down on drug lord Abel (Baron Geisler). After a quick zero-tension buy-bust, the film proceeds to unravel quite predictably.

THE cast and director of the film (from left) Raymond Rinoza, Dexter Macaraeg, Elijah Filamor, Xixi Maturan, Allen Dizon, Mendoza, Cataleya Surio, Richard Manabat, JC Tan and Jalyn Taboneknek. Elijah sells shabu (crystal meth) to make ends meet, like most small-time dealers. Espino is possessed by greed. When the film concluded its lead characters’ journey, it’s no longer a shock. It is expected that anyone linked to the drug trade, either borne by a desperate need for survival (Elijah) or greed (Espino), is ill-fated. But how Elijah and Espino met their fate did not stun, nor was there any thrilling anticipation.

Drug epidemic in the seedy slums of Manila. Greed and corruption in the police force. The administration’s war on drugs propels these suspects — whether big fish or small fry, or a corrupt cop — to cover their tracks. And the lower you are in the food chain, the more powerless you are, meaning, the most likely you’ll be found dead in the street.

DIZON returns as Espino, an officer involved in illegal drug trade. Alpha comes off as a redundant editorial rather than a film experience. Mendoza and Espiritu do not explore the multifaceted themes of Alpha — war on drugs, poverty, greed and corruption. It rushes to its exposé, without much care for Elijah or Espino.

With very limited and slightly amateurish dialogue, it clearly wants to show than tell. And the only intriguing thing that Alpha shows is additional information on how drugs are creatively concealed and traded. Although very much believable, the film’s whole presentation is shallow. It’s not a bad film, it’s just devoid of impact — like a forgettable episode of Amo.

A plot can be overused many times in the history of cinema, and if Alpha’s narrative is worn out, its storytelling is also unimaginative, settling for cardboard characters — mere pawns to reiterate the same message we’ve seen since Jaclyn Jose’s Rosa peddling ice from her sari-sari store. Perhaps Alpha may be more interesting to those who’ve never seen Amo or Ma’Rosa.

Alpha feels genuinely passionate in telling its story, putting care and thought in its style and form, but seriously lacks content.

If Mendoza has a bunch of materials, he sure picked the dullest — or the safest — drug-trade tale. It fails to provoke in any way, unlike the terrific Ma’Rosa, which triggers stress, fear and hopelessness. Heck, the 2018 MMFF entry Jack Em Popoy: The Puliscredibles is also set against the backdrop of the government’s narcotics crackdown, also touching on police corruption, yet it is far more engaging.

The film’s alpha or asset is its relatively new star, Filamor, and his naturalistic performance. Never self-conscious of the camera or the script, he is compelling to watch as the hapless victim. Cinematography and editing are competent enough, and fans of the Filipino filmmaker can still enjoy his cinema verité style, much more polished here than his previous works.

Alpha, The Right To Kill, which won the Special Jury Prize in last year’s San Sebastian International Film Festival, feels genuinely passionate in telling its story, putting care and thought in its style and form, but seriously lacks content. Mendoza is open to the public about his many drug trafficking stories that he can’t wait to tell the world, but after Alpha, we’ve seen and heard enough. It’s time for something new.

Premiered in select Philippine cinemas on 16 January.