I can’t believe One More Try is going to be the last movie I’ll see for 2012. Where do I begin talking about this movie? Summing up all this madness seems like a good start. The movie starts with a montage sequence between a long-haired Dingdong Dantes and Angel Locsin frolicking around Baguio City. It’s a typical boy-meets-girl sequence with playful, cheery music that begins with their eyes meeting across the park and ends with the two having sex in front of the fireplace. Then cue the title, “One More Try” that appears onscreen in a slinky cursive font. Oh you know it’s gonna be THAT type of film.
End montage sequence and we now see a huge house somewhere in Metro Manila. Cut to a very modern looking bedroom with Dingdong Dantes in his underwear, this time with shorter hair to indicate the passage of time because having long hair, apparently, is a thing of the past. He is now happily married to Angelica Panganiban, a successful career woman whose work involves vague things like having to wear over-accessorized “I am woman” power suits while saying things like ‘we closed the deal’ or ‘agency’ hell I can’t even remember. Anyway the point is, Dingdong and Angelica are the ideal couple (we witnessed this in their brief harutan moment in the start before it all went downhill) but the problem is Angelica can’t conceive a child (even if her swelling belly is very obvious haha kidding, i love that she’s full-figured). Moving on now–
Back at Baguio, we now meet Angel Locsin who is a single mother. And since they live in Baguio, their clothes and every decorative item in their house is either made with aztec prints or woven cloth or covered in shiny varnished wood. Of course, Angel’s boyfriend, Zanjoe Marudo, also happens to work in some kind of wood sculpting shop. Now the conflict arises when we find out that Angel’s 5-year-old son ( WITH DINGDONG!! big shocker), Buchok/Bochoy/Bockchock/Bokchoy is diagnosed with some kind of bone marrow disease along with his ever-apparent staring-into-space-syndrome. Seriously, this kid cannot act and why he was named after a vegetable, I have no idea. Cue the flashbacks from Angel’s visit to her OB/GYN Carmina Villaroel who says that it’s only a matter of time before poor Bokchoy dies from his strange bone marrow disease. I wish I had paid attention for the name of the actual disease to do more research on it because it seems that the only solution anyone could think of was for Angel Locsin and Dingdong Dantes to have sex again to create another human being, take his bone marrow and use it to cure dying Bokchock. Sorry for that long sentence, my editor will kill me. There’s so much stupidness that I can just go on and on.
End flashback scene with OB/GYN and now we see Angel Locsin on her way to Dingdong Dantes’ fancy electronics store (you can see that he owns the shop by the way he stands in the middle of everything making phone calls with the earpiece he has to indicate his power!! Cos only important people own them , yes??– sorry i’m getting carried away). Angel tells him hi and hello and after some pleasantries she drops the bomb and says her kid is diagnosed with bone marrow disease (the more I type bone marrow, the more I’m starting to crave bulalo). Dingdong says OK and makes a phone call to his wife and later on that evening, Angel, Dingdong, and Angelica all sit down to dinner and engage in a staring contest.
Bla bla bla it’s all very funny from this point onwards because you can feel that the screenwriters were beating around the bush with getting to the sex thing. So let me cut to the chase and get to the sex thing, aka the reason this movie was made in the first place. Carmina the OB/GYN (not a surgeon! take note!) advises Angel and Dingdong to go through a couple of random tests for bone marrow randomness and if those tests fail (of course they will), they will hvae to resort to the situation I mentioned earlier- creating a new life to take the new bone marrow from to transfer to dying son Bockhock. I know nothing about surgery or even bone marrow for that matter but logic dictates that if you have a dying kid, you do something about it. The “bilang isang ina” argument kept getting old and died when Angel practically begged to have sex with Dingdong only to save the life of her son. THIS MAKES NO SENSE if her kid were really dying. We see that he is really sick and ‘dying’ in a scene where he collapses in Fun Ranch and in another scene where all the grownups make a big deal out of his headache after a day at the beach (there is such a thing as too much sun). This means that if she resorted to having sex with Dingdong to make a child they’d have to wait more than nine months and Bokchoy would have already died by then. In a world where it is possible to send sick people out of the country for medical treatment given that they have unlimited funds, the sex thing seems highly illogical. It was only brought up a few times to which Angel said “wala kaming visa”- end of story. Cue even more GRRRAAAA THIS IS DUMB.
Since this is still a love story and as most love stories go, challenges and other idiotic stuff are expected to arise. Angelica agrees to the sex but only under her conditions (ahem supervision hahahha) . Makes sense, considering loaning your husband for unli-sex isn’t exactly the easiest thing for a wife to do (i’m not kidding, she really said ‘unli-sex’). After much persuasion, the sex did happen but in an unnecessarily glamorized manner: picture an icy cold swanky hotel, sexy shower sequences, darkly lit rooms and a score that resembles one of a rape scene’s. The filmmakers are trying to tell you here that something is going to go wrong and by this time I was getting tired from laughing so hard. After that Angel finds out she DIDN’T get pregnant. I guess this is where the movie derives its title from (cue even more laughter).
As if nothing else is an option, as if saving your fake dying child is more important than wrecking a marriage (geez they were willing to stretch his life for more than nine months!), all of a sudden, all morals go out the window even if other options were more feasible. It’s hard to fathom why producers and scriptwriters have to create such absurd situations for the sake of justifying the drama that goes on in everyday lives. The overused adultery/infidelity genre has now reached a new low with a very weak hook- to save a life. Still sounds highly unbelievable and it gets stupider ever time I retell the story to willing listeners. My final verdict still remains, though: I want bulalo.