REVIEW: ‘YOUR MOTHER’S SON,’ A TABLOID TALE

I didn't finish the director's Q&A after the screening of Your Mother's Son. I caught some snippets of the talk, which revealed that Jun Robles Lana's newest R-18 chamber piece that had its world premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival last year, is a political allegory, alluding to former president Rodrigo Duterte's time.

I do not care about a filmmaker's explanation of his film. Not once do I allow it to influence my own interpretation as I make sure I review films through my own personal lens.

But for the sake of conversation, I never saw the hidden political tale underneath all that sex, vape and drugs. Interviews with Lana explain that his R-18 erotica is an anti-Duterte/anti-dictatorship film. He bookends his tale with political campaigns, flyers swirling in the wind. But that's just the only political cues in the film — and it’s more of an aesthetic rather than a subtext.

The former president is famous for his war on drugs, often cussing at users and runners, campaigning how drugs can warp the mind. And if we force ourselves to link Your Mother's Son to Duterte's regime, it is more pro than anti Duterte, as the film shows that drugs do corrupt the mind and can push people to do unspeakable acts. But it adds a side social commentary that our Third World country is so steeped in poverty that the poor, well, have got to cope by selling or snorting ice.

The center of the tale is an excellent curly-haired Kokoy De Santos as Emman, a closet-junkie youth who lost his job at the tail end of the pandemic lockdown. He lives in a tiny hut with the "mothering" Sarah (Sue Prado) and hangs out with his one friend, Amy (Elora Españo).

Lana and co-writer Elmer Gatchalian set their chamber piece in a remote, secluded provincial village backdropped by mountains. It gives a touch of secrecy to hide the taboo that is about to transpire inside the hut with its thin walls (but the characters speak their secrets so loudly that it is impossible that the person inside the bathroom or the single bedroom won't be able to hear them).

The film showcases Lana’s confidence in his visual language, and, at one point, even lends a Hitchcockian Psycho touch to it — specifically the most iconic scene in the history of cinema. But here, Lana uses a hanging blanket instead of a shower curtain.

Your Mother’s Son is a tale of lies, secrecy and jealousy, triggered by the arrival of "nice boy" Oliver (Miggy Jimenez), who comes to temporarily live with Sarah and Emman. Oliver is the opposite of the lustful, brooding, temperamental Emman. The young houseguest is a guitar player with a boy-band face.

Lana employs a generally muted palette and applies a trippy RGB-blurred color grading to scenes of sex and drugs. The intermittent presence of a sick grandma in the background is a nice touch for added perversion.

But really, the film is more suited to the Vivamax library, under themes of "MILF,” "suspense" and "violence,” but would stand out for its more refined treatment. It is more “erotica” than “porn.”

The female gender is a dominant figure in Lana's film, and his two-female cast are superb. The always competent Prado and Españo, albeit with tiny hiccups in their delivery, are perfectly cast. Españo has always been a joy to watch with her effortless, naturalistic performance, as if no script exists. She just slightly grappled for her line in her last scene.

But if Lana were to portray female abusers, the least he could have done is psychologize their penchant for abuse. But he didn’t bother to do so in this movie, which makes his female characters one-dimensional.

Teresa Barrozo's score adds a kick to the suspense of this erotic drama-thriller, which compensates for the highly predictable plot. Never mind that you know how this is all going to end because Lana at least knows how to build suspense.

Emman is the main focus, and you nervously anticipate his explosion every single scene. De Santos is the MVP of the cast with his pitch-perfect performance, perhaps the best in recent history by a male actor. He is all nuances and subtlety. In both quiet moments and conversations, his eyes speak volumes that you wish the movie is just like him.

You could see through the soul of Emman, at the same time he is delightfully unreadable. It's a clever decision to give the character plenty of non-speaking scenes. Lana gave him a vape, but Emman is comically never without it, because it gives the character something to do while lost in his thoughts—and there are plenty of those scenes.

The movie feels inspired by tabloid news, or the police segment in your primetime local news, or even one of the stories in Isumbong Mo Kay Tulfo. But that’s not the reason why it’s not a good film. Lacking substance and layers, it takes itself too seriously and desperately tries to be something that it is not.