Faith is its own logic. That’s one reason why religion isn’t a recurring topic at open mics. No one will laugh at those jokes—unless in the audience there’s Donald Trump.
Such sensitivities are important in such a sensitive country, but Sheron Dayoc slips in one joke that he knows will crack people up. It happens as a woman chases her own daughter the way Jack Torrance does in The Shining. How it comes to that confrontation—truly the most thrilling part of the film—plays a big part in that joke. The woman in question is an obsessed fanatic coercing her daughter into her false faith. Unlike Danny, the daughter—no hedge mazes, no footprints to step back on—doesn’t get away and ultimately gets ravished by hell hounds, which in biblical symbolisms mean she’s being “cleansed” of good faith. Where Jack descends into madness, the woman gets literally lost in her religion.
(I know, cue R.E.M. song. Break a laugh, this is the closest to a punch line we can get.) Get it?
The film opens with a woman who, in a state of physical paralysis, is being frequented by a mysterious figure that appears to her as the Messiah. The thing is, the last true religious visitation, per Catholic doctrines, occurred a very long time ago; and apparitions of “holy beings” are more likely demons taking advantage of one’s faith. The woman deludes she is being tasked by a true messiah—”to spread the Word of God,” he says. Upon this encounter she rouses to her daughter and the housekeep’s company (a magnetic Lou Veloso), and also to about a hundred religious idols that populate her home. In her waking hours, this woman clearly hasn’t watched Mike De Leon’s Itim.
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A disservice to its cast indeed, most disparagingly to Bing Pementel, whose presence in the film is most hauntingly aural. The scene in which her afflicted fanatic terrorizes her own daughter (Max Eigenman)—alas, no “heeere’s Johnnyyy!” reference here, though we get an unintentionally funny reply to that with “Mama, tama na. Nakakatakot ka na!“—is effective on its own, but getting there ultimately takes much from the effect, however striking as is.
As the end credits roll, I picture the film’s ending, as I’ve been taught at workshops and classes, as the rendezvous on which most if not all the elements of the story must meet. Like ol’ Danny boy with the Shine, I trace my steps backward, yet I find no maze, only the axed madman after me.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwAOxY_jPJc
