I actually question the point of pouring my heart out right now on the "Unsent" series, if the persons concerned will not see it. Oh, sure. I'll be writing about people who do read my weblog or livejournal, but it's not like I would know if they knew. I've run into a dearth of feedback from people, and just about every other blog or lj I go to has five times more feedback than I would expect to get in a month. I question the point, and as such, I must search for the point of doing it in the first place.

I started writing online without so much as thinking about what people had to say. Love it or hate it, I'd right in pretty much the same way. But that's the key word: love it or hate it. Do I even know how people feel one bit? Or is it really my fault that I did not get in touch wit every single blogger I could get my hands on, akin to why my Friendster account does not yield a fantastic growth of 500 people in two weeks?

I question the need for quantity. And maybe that's my only consolation. Rarely would I get any amount of feedback that is merely brought about by common courtesy and the need to appease my craving for attention. Good Hades, if I really wanted online traffic, I could get away with advertising it on RX every single chance I get, but why would I want to do that? More than the 7000++ hits, I think what's important is that I make people come back not because I ask them to, but because my weblog, regardless of my lack of any attempts to carry on with it in an effort to cater to any particular reading public, is deemed as worth it.

So maybe it'd do me good to think that way, and stop feeling a pang of disappointment when, after pouring my heart and a half out into, say, the "Unsent" series, I get no words of encouragement or revilement, whatsoever. And lest I be viewed as soliciting feedback on this, if that is your only reason for commenting here or anywhere else, then save it. No use feeding an ego with lies.

Writing this way, for me, has been nothing short of therapeutic. When I throw my lamentations into the air instead of into someone's unwilling ear, I feel less and less guilty about it. When I receive a vote of confidence in my weathering through a particular tempest or another without my practically begging for it, I certainly am inclined to treasure that. Maybe it's wrong for me to think everyone else I know has a lot of shallow friends. Maybe it's better for me to think that I have a few stalwart friends instead, because what do I know about the situations everyone else around me truly faces if they don't tell me? And maybe, just maybe... I should stop counting.

Bridal Shower:
If it’s from Seiko, it must be good.

I would like to think that I am somewhat qualified to analyze “Bridal Shower” with a more discerning eye, as I have seen two other films also part of the filmfest that were also comedies in their own rights: “Crying Ladies”, and “Captain Barbell”. Having seen the only A-rated film in the group of films, along with the second or so remake of a classic which proved to be a disaster to watch, “Bridal Shower” proved to be arguably the wittiest Filipino comedy I have ever seen in the past three years. Whoever was given the task of writing this must have had some phenomenal source of inspiration, if only for how natural the comedy flowed into the film, unlike any other comedy we see nowadays that requires either slapstick or downright annoying persistence at hammering a joke into the script when it clearly doesn’t fall into place.

“Bridal Shower” is the story of three co-workers and longtime friends, portrayed by Cherry Pie Picache (Dolores), Dina Bonnevie (Teta), and Francine Prieto (Sonya). The latter two have their respective relationships, while the former, due to her obesity, is rather unlucky at finding anyone. Things begin to get interesting when Francine Prieto gets pregnant, as she has two partners at the time, and yet she picks the richer guy, Juancho, so that her future would be secure. This is when the title comes into play, and her friends set up a bridal shower for her. In preparing the bridal shower, Cherry Pie runs into Jobert, a macho dancer who seems to have a heart of gold in spite of the nature of his work. Arguably the funniest sequence happened when two other macho dancers took Dina to a room and started kissing her. Dina, remembering her promiscuous past even while drunk, left the room indignantly, leaving the two macho dancers alone…

“Pare, paano ba iyan? Ngayon lang tayo nagkaisa.” (“Hey, buddy, what do you know? It’s only now that we’re alone.”)

“Oo nga, pare. Na-miss mo ba ako? (“You’re right, pal. Did you miss me?”)

“Miss na miss.” (“I missed you a lot.”)

Teta’s story was a bit different, however. Promiscuous by nature, she eventually found a guy, and fell for him, but he was married already. It wasn’t long before she helped him push for an annulment, but the guy was too busy living the bachelor’s life as soon as his annulment was granted, which left her in the cold. It would appear that the two ladies who were both in relationships actually had deep-set problems compared to Dolores, as Teta was being deserted, and Sonya married Juancho for the money and left behind Brian, whom she really loved, and who tattooed her name on his chest. Teta’s father seemed to be even more successful at love than Teta was…

“Ilang taon ba naman iyang girlfriend mo?” (“How old is your girlfriend?”)

“Thirty-one.”

“Dad naman, huwag mo ako lokohin.” (“Come on, Dad. Don’t fool me.”)

“Okay, okay. Twenty. Hey, baby, you doing okay?”

”Yes, baby! I’m doing fine!”

Later, when Teta’s father and his girl were about to leave…

”Bye, Teta! It’s been nice meeting you. Oo nga pala, next week, attend ka ng debut ko, ha!” (“Bye, Teta! It’s been nice meeting you. By the way, next week, attend my debut, okay?”)

”We have to go…”

Ironically, the one with the most success in love, relatively speaking, was Dolores. She ended up continuing her connection with Jobert, the macho dancer, and while it would seem that Jobert was merely after her money, it actually wasn’t the case. He was genuinely into her, and they were hitting it off quite well, with Jobert even trying to work in an insurance company so as to stop being a macho dancer. Eventually, because his father was sick, he had to borrow 50,000 from Dolores, who lent it to him, half-thinking that he would run away with the money. The rift came when he actually didn’t, and he took offense to Dolores’ lack of trust in him.

Except for Dolores, who was reunited with Jobert at the end, as the latter ended up becoming a dance instructor, the ending is very much open to speculation. It would seem that Sonya is happy with where she is now, but she ran into Brian, who had a girlfriend also named Sonya, just so he wouldn’t erase the tattoo. At the same time, the only reason Teta got married with Juancho was because Juancho couldn’t pay back Teta for all the money she spent in helping him with his annulment.

The film seemed to place quite an uncanny value on marriage, unlike most sex comedies. Yes, both Sonya and Teta got married because of shallow reasons, but in spite of all the sexual innuendo going on, they were placed in contrast to Cherry Pie’s character, who was someone who could learn to really love someone like Jobert, and was worth being loved in spite of her looks. It was heart-warming, to say the least, and the dialogue was crisp from top to bottom, evoking a natural feel as they spoke to one another, so much unlike the other films I’ve seen in the filmfest that clearly try to be poignant at one point or another but end up being glaringly scripted while at it. This is arguably the only sex comedy I have heard of that has a genuine “moral lesson”, and I must say that it’s a breath of fresh air in this respect.

If you haven’t seen this film, do watch it. It’ll make you laugh, and it’ll make your day.

Marcelle’s Evaluation: A+