In the not so distant past, only prostitutes, sentries and those in the medical profession worked nights. Then suddenly there is this new culture where there is happy hour in beer joints at 6, 7 in the morning — all because of the mushrooming of call centers in the metropolis. After working the graveyard shift where they get all sorts of verbal abuse from irate callers, call center agents just want to relax, unwind and take out all the stress before calling it a day or night — I don’t know, their body clock must already be so confused, no thanks to their erratic schedule.
Quite recently, Robinsons Galleria screened for a week or so the indie film My Fake American Accent, which was an entry in last year’s Cinemalaya. Directed by Ned Trespeces, the movie is about life inside those call centers — how the employees operate and what miserable lives they have there (or so the film depicts).
Those young people who have worked or are still slaving it out in call centers as you read this may not agree with the portrayal of some of the characters in this new profession, but we should remember that not all offices are the same and people face different situations even if they belong to one profession.
In My Fake American Accent, we only see a group of call center agents who work in one department as a team and that is enough representation for me because if the writer and director aspired for more than that, the film would have been unmanageable. As the movie progresses we get to know each character one by one, but only on the surface since not everyone is provided with a backstory because if they did that, the film could just go on and on.
And so there is Eric (Jonathan Neri), the newbie, who is just learning the ropes. He doesn’t really have a tough time because his teammates are supportive and they work as one — covering up for each other’s lapses even. This is a nice touch because that makes My Fake American Accent some sort of a feel-good movie in spite of the tension all around — what with irate callers complaining and even screaming at them at most times. They’re a team and they rally behind each other.
We also meet Astrid (Tracy Abad), who trained to be a writer, but works as a call center agent. In journalism, people say that those who can’t write teach (not necessarily true because Jullie Yap Daza wrote, taught and later even hosted her own TV show). In the case of Astrid, obviously she can write because she is a Palanca winner. But really, is there money in writing? Apparently, working as a call center agent is more lucrative and so she sticks it out there — for the moment, so she hopes. We do get the point, however, that the call center people are better paid than most other new graduates and it’s a good option if you want to earn good money.
Astrid bonds well with Samp (Cherry Mae Canton), who is a funky dresser and rebellious. There is a surprise twist in the middle of the story concerning her and her supervisor. It may not be all that important a revelation, but it works well.
Then there’s Buster (Miro Valera), who — like most other young people — work hard to keep up with the latest trends (expensive shoes and the like). What happens to him in one part of the movie shows the risks involved for those working the night shift.
The most challenging role is actually given to Martin de la Paz, who is called Meryl by his colleagues. He is Meryl because he can do accents — the way Meryl Streep does in Sophie’s Choice, Out of Africa and A Cry in the Dark. As the team’s biggest asset, he is extremely overworked and is hardly allowed to take a day-off. As a result, he burns out easily.
Martin gets to display a wide range of emotions as Meryl and he is excellent in his every scene: Being utterly professional even in the face of the most unreasonable customer (the expression on his face and the tone of his voice show it all — correctly and very realistically). He is most effective in that sequence where he is being bratty — yes, that part where you don’t even see him, but only hear him on the phone. “Ayoko nga!” (“I don’t like!”) — he barks to his boss who begs him to return to work that instant. The inflection is perfect.
Among his best scenes are those with his team leader, Joanna Seva, played by Mailes Kanapi. Now, I’ve always been fascinated with this actress who played Tonya in the stage version of Insiang some years back. I didn’t see that, but I was very impressed with her when she played the co-worker of Ina Feleo in Endo — to the point that I had her name researched so I could put in a good word for her in my review of that 2007 Urian Best Picture nominee. In Endo, she is cast as a lowly worker, but in My Fake American Accent, she is the high-strung boss who will stop at nothing to achieve her goals. Her character may border on the caricature, but she is disciplined enough as an actress and is able to control herself before she goes overboard. And when it comes to versatility, nobody can beat her in this department.
The characters we meet in My Fake American Accent show us the people who man those call centers and how stressful life is for them. While the viewers get entertained with the film’s narrative (and it helps that it is technically superior: The editing, photography and music), we also learn to be more understanding and tolerant of call center agents who take in our complaints about defective products and inefficient service. While not necessarily a propaganda, My Fake American Accent is pro-call center.
Maybe it really opted to strike a balance to show both sides — the call center operations and those calling in to lodge their complaints — except that this is not an epic that can explore all angles. Sure, I said earlier that I am already happy with that small fraction of call center life shown in My Fake American Accent, but they did miss out on something very important — the voice of the dissatisfied consumer.
Now, I admit I am one of those bastards who give call center agents hell when my phone company bills me incorrectly, my Internet service malfunctions (which is often) and the ATM machine is always off-line (a six-year war I’ve been having with my bank). I am a tough customer to deal with because I know I am entitled to good, quality service and when I don’t get that I raise a fuss and demand to be heard.
But what do you know? The call center agents don’t listen and don’t give a hoot about the complaining party (again, as shown in the film and I am inclined to believe they did research prior to production and that was what they saw). Of course, the call center agents try to take in information and see what they can do, but they really just let us go blah-blah-blah until we get tired and exhaust all pent-up emotions. If you watch My Fake American Accent, the whining customers are bad people who should be flushed down the toilet.
Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed watching My Fake American Accent because it is an engrossing movie. But how I wish the customer side — especially those who were screwed up by unscrupulous manufacturers — also got their day in court.
Truthfully, my heart bleeds for the call center agents because these are just kids who simply want to earn a living. But apparently, something is wrong with the system — with the consumers again at the losing end. Wonder no more why service in this country keeps deteriorating.