Some “films” are unworthy of the title, ‘Tililing’ is one of them

Some “films” are unworthy of the title, ‘Tililing’ is one of them

Loren Mariñas in Tililing (2021), grabbed from the film’s trailer.

Loren Mariñas in Tililing (2021), grabbed from the film’s trailer.

Director and filmmaker Darryl Yap is no stranger to criticism. When he dropped the trailer for his new feature-length film ‘Tililing,’ concerns about the film’s portrayal of mental illness from netizens, celebrities, and mental health support groups alike exploded, especially with the way it was marketed in both the trailer and the film poster. To those who don’t know, tililing is a word used to describe people who are not mentally sane. The film’s director has said that he is one with the advocacy and that people would understand why it was presented the way it is. Of course, here in SINEGANG.ph, we believe in the saying that to see is to believe, and we’re here to evaluate if his statement holds true in the film itself. Please do note that if the events entailed in the following paragraphs sound confusing, remember that it’s what was shown in the film, and the reviewer did their best in describing an incoherent film.

The film opens with three intern nurses who arrive late as the head nurse is explaining house rules. During this scene, screenwriter Darryl Yap already showcases how little he knows about writing an effective script by relying heavily on huge signages one will never see plastered in a mental institution. This is conveniently shown whenever the hospital staff are talking in relation to said signagesinstead of composing sensible and professional dialogues appropriate for that scenario. This charade continues throughout the film, adding unnecessary sound effects whenever a joke, or rather an empty and humorless line, is mentioned. Of course, it’s not a Darryl Yap film without someone screaming profanities for absolutely no reason, as not even surpassing the 3-minute mark can the audience hear the nurses yelling putangina like professionalism doesn’t exist in that building. 

It’s five minutes in and the definition of certain mental illnesses are introduced as a joke while the 3 interns prepare for their shift. For some unexplained reason, the conversation shifts to their boobs, which again doesn’t contribute to the plot whatsoever, and juxtaposed to that of a guard having a stroke while accidentally pressing buttons on a control panel. A note flashes on screen summarizing what happened in the last few minutes, as if the audience wouldn’t get it without said note. It proves that the video editors themselves are aware that the way the film is presented is so incoherent that they resort to adding one. At this point, the movie has only been going on for 9 minutes. 

Candy Pangilinan (left), Yumi Lacsamana (middle), and Donnalyn Bartolome (right) in Tililing (2021), grabbed from the film’s trailer.

Candy Pangilinan (left), Yumi Lacsamana (middle), and Donnalyn Bartolome (right) in Tililing (2021), grabbed from the film’s trailer.

As the opening credits are shown, it is accompanied by an insensitive narration where the mentally ill are described and portrayed as zombies who are out to get the nurses, further propagating a harmful stereotype instead of destigmatizing it. The fact that this scene is deliberately placed in the opening credits, while the names of the cast and crew are put on top, shows how they all tolerated this type of portrayal towards the mentally unstable and it’s sickening to know that this is even allowed to be shown outside of the video editor’s computer because of its farcical and damaging depiction of the subject matter. It’s not the least bit funny; it’s nothing short of disrespectful towards the mentally ill, the healthcare professionals, and the mental institutions that this film is putting a bad light on. 

It is then that the film actually starts with the three nurse interns named Maricel (Candy Pangilinan), Jessa (Yumi Lacsamana), and Espie (Donnalyn Bartolome) being introduced to the Home of the Healing Heart’s headmistress, Divina (Cai Cortez). It is worth pointing out that the place looks like one of those abandoned, worn-down buildings in those zombie films, strengthening the idea that the patients are treated like zombies in said institutions. A line from the headmistress stands out in this scene,

Ang baliw, baliw. Kahit ano pa, kahit ano ka pa sa spectrum ng mga baliw iisa lang ‘yan. Baliw. May sayad, may sapak, may topak, may tililing,

further emphasizing the tone-deafness of the script, that is accompanied by the uncomfortable imagery of patients who have tililing. The tour then continues and it is shown how the nurses treat its patients–with disrespect and lack of care–as they are pushed around, showered all at once in a cell and left outside for the sun to dry them up. This scene is one of the film’s many attempts in criticizing the maltreatment that the patients could’ve experienced in mental health institutions, but the over exaggeration muddled down its point to nothing but a comedic and forgettable shot. 

Gina Pareño (left) and Candy Pangilinan (right) in Tililing (2021) grabbed from the film’s trailer. 

Gina Pareño (left) and Candy Pangilinan (right) in Tililing (2021) grabbed from the film’s trailer. 

The interns are then tasked to identify the mental illness of their chosen patient and whoever gets the closest will have their internship papers automatically signed.  The film then introduces the three main patients: Socorro (Gina Pareño), a comfort woman who has been in the institution for a long time, Peter (Baron Geisler), an orphan who is so neglected he doesn’t even know his own name and birthday, and Bernie (Chad Kinis), an arsonist who has a strange addiction for playing with his own shit. Their lives mirror that of the intern nurses who accompanied them, Maricel, Jessa, and Espie, respectively. All of them seemed to be stuck in their current positions because they have nowhere else to go. The rest of the film is spent going back and forth in flashbacks and realizations coming from the interns.

The film tries to save itself from crashing down by ending in an enigmatic and figurative narration that feels like a half-assed attempt into correcting the mistakes it showed in the past hour. The revelation that it is the headmistress who is the evil one is neither surprising nor interesting. The only thing that is remotely good in this film is when the credits roll, because at least the audience knows that the torture is finally coming to an end. 

Cai Cortez in Tililing (2021) grabbed from the film’s trailer.

Cai Cortez in Tililing (2021) grabbed from the film’s trailer.

Labelling the film as satire doesn’t automatically excuse or erase the problematic imagery that it shows. Saying that people should watch it first before judging and it ending up like what the public initially perceived is just embarrassing and shows the lack of self-awareness from the crew, especially that of the director. Mental health remains a sensitive topic in the Philippines and this film contributes nothing in the conversation. It instead, perpetuates the stereotypes it tries to fight against. 

The obsession in jumping or going back in time ruins the momentum of certain scenes and adds unnecessary time as the audience watches the film rewind or forward on its own–pulling a discounted and incompetent version of what Pulp Fiction (1994) already did. Darryl Yap has been posting short skits on Facebook for years now, but it seems like his style in both directing and screenwriting has yet to grow from it, and this film is a proof of that–disjointed, repetitive, and incomprehensible. Musical numbers are inserted for absolutely no reason rather than to maybe catch the attention of some viewers who fell asleep or wanted to turn the entire thing off. Some scenes previously shown are being shown again to emphasize a point, acting like the audience isn't capable enough to remember what happened a couple of minutes beforehand to rely on such a tactic. 

The film is too incoherent that it can make one question if this is even worth calling as one. It lacks the cohesive idea to keep the story going, and the way it was presented was disjointed enough to feel like it was either rushed or the video editors gave up halfway into editing. All in all, the entire hour-and-a-half runtime is a complete torture that recommending this to your worst enemy would be considered as a crime. Do something productive instead of watching this insanely rubbish piece of media. 

Tililing is now available on VIVAMAX.

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