In the occult film San Lazaro, the demons taking over its characters are only internal and untapped; one apparently does not need a soul-consuming entity in order to meet his fallout. Wincy Aquino Ong understands this much, yet as the film director he does not count on terror, than so much — as the lead actor — on tiny fissures of humanity.
Make no mistake, though: it assumes the form of a full-on cult horror-comedy film and properly latches on its innate madness; there is something particularly eerie about it however that compels critic Oggs Cruz to line it up in a ‘classroom’ with the works of Lav Diaz, Brilliante Mendoza and Raya Martin. It is the “unnoticeable weirdo,” the critic notes, which by all means is true.
In entire effect, San Lazaro is a euphoria distinct of its own; it is relentlessly bizarre (and sometimes just too much so), but no less bracing.
Its presentation is as straightforward as its plot: two batch-mates reunite on a trip to the secluded town of San Lazaro where, lives the famed Singing Exorcist (Allan Forte). Yet, the film decides not to conform to any trope or convention. It is, technically, a film of possessive evil, but it is also about humane faults as much as it is about the occult. It does not take form of a road movie without peering closely at the deepening psyches of men in their curious individual crises. The devil in the film is literally and figuratively on these men’s individual and collective carriage.
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Nicco Manalo’s scorned husband strings together in an orderly fashion the then tangled narrative arcs, pulling off a particularly impressive portrayal. All wicked fun is the film; and woven in relentless illogic, San Lazaro winds through its runtime odd enough so that the audience is kept invested and ultimately feels by least serviced.
