This is how this writer sums up Gil Portes’ latest film. Aptly titled Barcelona, this didactic melodrama is another retelling of the plight of our Overseas Filipino Workers (OFW’s), much in the same vein as the well-made romance/drama Milan (2004), the loud Dubai (2005), and the superior Sana Maulit Muli (1995) from a several years back. Simply put, Barcelona tragically pales in comparison to the other films mentioned.

 

Clarissa is a mysterious young woman who left the Philippines for Barcelona, Spain in search for her lost husband. While in that Castilian city, she meets and is immersed in the plight of her compatriots. There, she experiences utter loneliness, hopelessness, friendship, and the blossoming of new love.

 

The material itself is quite provocative and juicy, as there surely is something new to say about the plight of our countrymen in Spain. Sadly, the film just becomes a silly homily, led by the director’s heavy-handed direction, and the writers’ antiquated and totally contrived vision.

 

The technical flaws were just simply overwhelming. The sound is bad and seems hollow at times, the editing is painfully slow and dull, some parts of the movie were overscored, and the cinematography is bad. Sure, the film is in digital format. But it simply isn’t an excuse to photograph scenes in distractingly dark shots while being overly suffused with natural light in other parts. Even as a travelogue, where camerawork is very important, the film still fails miserably.

 

The acting ranges from mediocre to bad. Alessandra De Rossi, who plays the lead role and Robert Arevalo who played a tormented widower turned in average performances – plain and passable. Tina Paner, who plays herself, acts in a very hectic and unnatural manner. The rest of the supporting cast and extras were obviously waiting for queues from the director, hence performing in a very amateurish manner.

 

Sadly, this has got to be Portes’ and Senedy Que’s lousiest screenplay, as their final output examines nothing new about the OFW experience. Absolutely nothing! None of the issues too were uniquely endemic to the OFW’s of Barcelona that one would even wonder why the filmmakers needed to make a film in Barcelona when it could have been shot here in the Philippines (even name it Tagaytay, Fairview, or Novaliches so as to make it a little less pretentious) with a better cast and much better production values. Moreover, the metaphysical/philosophical twist in the end is not really enlightening nor unpredictable – just plain silly and contrived.

 

On a more tragic note, this film is probably Portes’ sorriest. After the success of his Mga Munting Tinig (which is quite an outstanding film), Portes has been hitting lows one after the other. A calculated melodrama in Beautiful Life, a long-winded narrative in Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and now, a really bad and unfortunate film like Barcelona.

 

The public could not be faulted for largely snubbing this preachy digital feature. When this writer saw the film, less than ten people were inside the moviehouse. Save your cash would be the best advice for anyone reading this article and has yet to see the film.

 

All in all, a film like Barcelona is the perfect Christmas present that a respected director like Gil Portes could offer the Filipino viewer. That is, if he hated us – each and everyone of us.

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