Who's that French Guy?
I kept asking myself that while I watched Mercredi Folle Journee yesterday. Some people wouldn't exactly call Martin Socoa a good dad. He was a police officer but would do off track bets, is neck deep in debt, can't keep a relationship with a woman going for too long, and would even ask his daughter to the lie to the court so he could get off paying alimony to a previous wife. It doesn't help that the film felt very truncated at times. You can't help feeling lost, and most of the characters are little kids getting lost. Apparently, Wednesdays in France are dedicated to kids. They don't go to school and get to do things that they like. How come we don't have that here?
Anyway, Martin Socoa seemed so familiar but I couldn't place him. If he were in a police line, he'd look vaguely familiar but not enough to do an ID. So even if I'd seen him in movies, unless it's something really spectacular I wouldn't really stick the name with the face. Well it turns out he was in that other French film I saw a few days back, the more amusing one with the judge and the girl who steals expensive shoes. Vague Guy's name is Vincent Lindon, and he is married to the actress who played the judge.
One thing I've realized: this is the first year where I didn't really feel too bad if I didn't watch all the movies, and that I voluntarily skipped screenings so I could go off and watch Singles* (again, NOT the Cameron Crowe one) and Azkaban. The ones I did see (Filles Unique, Mademoiselle and Mercredi Folle Journee) were not really that spectacular. I feel a bit bad (but not that bad) about missing Tout Va Bien, On S'en Va, but only because it's about a missing father. Then again, it probably wouldn't kill me. But I'm waiting for one film though, Catherine Breillat's Sex is Comedy. I missed the only screen time for that like 2 weekend's ago, because it was raining real hard, and hopefully I'll get to catch the UP screening. Another thing, I miss the director's chair poster. This year's poster seems too kalat for me.
*What I did watch was Singles by Mac Alejandre. It has those subheadings like in Crowe's portrait of dating in the 90s, and it's trying too hard to be Sex and the City, and it ultimately trips on its own shoelaces and falls flat on the floor. I watched it on a Saturday night and the theater wasn't full. (And yeah, it's relegated to the backwater theater of Florietta 1 in its first weekend, while that only other Pinoy film playing, All My Life, has a bit more life coming into its Glorietta 4 cinema.) You'd laugh in some parts, but it doesn't really make you care. In other words, and this is so cliche, isa siyang pelikulang walang puso. Also, you can really see they're scrimping on the locations. Kailangan bang sulitin ang shooting sa Eastwood? And we're wondering now: Why is Jay Manalo in every single Regal Films movie? He's in all the Mano Po movies, in I Will Survive (again, another one of those films which you don't make you feel anything strongly) and here again. Is his presence a constitutional requirement of their corporation laws or something? Anyway, back to Singles, after you trudge your way out of the theater, you just go out and glad that it's time to go home and perhaps wishing you should have asked for more ketchup for your fries. You don't want to boo the film for being spectacularly bad, but it's not really good good either.