Squalor & salvation

Jueteng in the Philippines is a numbers game, a lottery, a game of chance. But while games of chance are abound in the country, this one has figured prominently in recent, contemporary Philippine history.

Some Philippine authorities believe that this numbers game should be made legal, since gambling, anyway, has been deeply-entrenched in Filipino culture. Besides, it gives livelihood to the numerous unemployed especially in the countryside. If ever jueteng persists, open secrets disclose, it is because it is not only tolerated but more so perpetuated by the collusion among several parties concerned – the national as well as local officials and politicians; the national police; and the predominantly below-poverty-line majority of the Filipino populace who finds employment as collectors and checkers.

If ever some bishops frown at the game, it is because they know the scam behind such operations: operators collect small money from the poor which add up to quite a fortune and they run away with the bulk of the money and leave small pickings to the unsuspecting bettors (or if they are aware, they wouldn’t mind as long as they have the chance to augment subsistence family incomes).

This is the socio-political context of Jeffrey Jeturian’s Kubrador/The Collector (script by Ralston Jover/script supervision by Armando Lao). The title refers to Amelita or Amy, a post-menopausal wife to an inutile but solicitous husband who seems to have abdicated his role of "taking charge" in his family and household, and mother to adult children who still turn to her for financial help and family upkeep. She "collects" the bets and places them at the table of the hench- or frontmen of Big Operator who is never seen in daily operation and whose identity oftentimes is top secret. They may be the townspeople’s favorite politico or top law enforcer, who knows?

Although Jeturian’s film is a composite story of lesser lives, of the sacrificial children of jueteng rather than the perpetrators who make a big killing each time, it defies plot-oriented retelling. It simply follows the film’s protagonist (excellently portrayed with great sincerity and sensitivity by Gina Pareño) as she goes through her daily routine of collecting bets and winnings on behalf of her clientele, bailing out an apprehended neophyte collector, bribing a police officer, collecting contributions, on the side, for the wake and burial of neighbors who recently died, and transacting sundry businesses with practically her whole neighborhood who seem to accord her with respect and affection.

Rising action is not what makes the film engaging, in fact, even riveting. It is the film’s visual and aural textures that tell all in several levels, from the micro-story of a lowly slum-dweller valiantly struggling for survival, or of a bereaved family lamenting the senseless death of their recent college graduate, their only hope to lead them in their escape from a life of wretchedness, to the macro-tale of a society steep in corruption and injustice, where superstition is the people’s only cling to sanity and salvation. The film is replete with subtle potshots at foibles every ordinary Filipino is familiar with.

The film highlights an acid-etched portrait of a strong-willed woman of great strength and endurance as a centerpiece of a societal mural embellished by details of squalor, depression, inequality, and yet also of faith and hope that are almost magical and divine.

It is said that this film is Jeffrey Jeturian’s best to date. We wouldn’t put it that way. Oftentimes, he sinks his teeth into genres he has not tried before, employing unconventional style each time. And each time, too, he bites deep into the thick meat of his latest film extremely well done!