‘Iskalawags’ REVIEW: Rebel With a Cause
‘Iskalawags’ REVIEW: Rebel With a Cause
Kerwin Otida as Palot | Still taken from Keith Deligero’s YouTube page
Mild spoilers for Iskalawags ahead.
Being raised in a semi-remote barangay somewhere in Aurora until my teens, I know all too well the slow, quiet rhythm of rural life. Days can become mundane, and time seems to stretch endlessly. We filled the humdrum of free time with play — whether frolicking in the rice paddies, swimming in the river and irrigation canals, loitering around the barangay plaza, or spending our hard-earned coins at the seasonal traveling perya that would settle in for a while.
When we weren’t outside, we flocked to someone’s house to watch a bala (what we called VCDs or shared VHS tapes) crowded together in front of a boxy TV, transfixed by movies on the screen. Whether it was Tony Jaa kicking someone’s ass, FPJ mowing down a gang of goons, N!xau getting confused with the will of crazy gods, or Shu Qi’s captivating presence in So Close, these moments of communal viewing felt like little escapes from the stillness of everyday life.
Set in the sleepy, relatively peaceful town of Sitio Malinawon in Cebu, Keith Deligero’s Iskalawags follows a ragtag group of rebellious rascals who call themselves the “Iskalawags,” named after the Raymart Santiago film Iskalawags: Ang Batas ay Batas. The group consists of seven members: de facto leader Palot (Kerwin Otida), Intoy (Reynaldo Formentera), Romart (Windel Otida), Elyok (Johnreil Lunzaga), Poldo (Joriel Lunzaga), Jared, a.k.a. Bulldog (Micko Maurillo), and Liklik (Mark Lourence Montalban).
Much like us bored kids in the province, they navigate the monotony by filling their days with playful mischief, watching Jeric Raval films, or passionately reciting their favorite lines from FPJ movies. Their world unfolds against a backdrop of quiet routine, where adventure is something they must conjure up themselves, and where their jovial laughter in the dead of night feels like a small rebellion against the stillness.
The Iskalawags in a huddle | Still taken from Keith Deligero’s YouTube page
Iskalawags reminds me of my own childhood in a way — not just because of the rural setting but because of the way we could turn simple moments into adventures, and how our laughter filled the quiet spaces of provincial life. Watching these rowdy kids and their mischievous antics, I’m reminded of a time when our biggest concerns were as trivial as theirs.
The main plot centers on the gang’s quest to see some huge papayas, but the film hardly fixates on it. Instead, it focuses on the small moments they share, whether they’re discussing what they would do if they ever touch the chest of a woman or reenacting a scene from Kapag Puno Na Ang Salop.
In this aspect, Iskalawags succeeds in creating a sense of play — of crude, childlike wonder — through its keen observation of the lives of these kids. Deligero achieves this by instilling the film with an unfiltered, sometimes vulgar, yet humorous energy that remains playful and fun — an endearing quality that makes Iskalawags so charming and earnest.
There’s a genuine sense of joy and spontaneity, much of it thanks to the chemistry of the non-professional actors portraying the Iskalawags. Their naturalistic performances and apparently ad-libbed dialogue (according to this video from Deligero’s YouTube page) add a level of authenticity to the film.
The Iskalawags hanging out | Still taken from Keith Deligero’s YouTube page
Deligero’s filmmaking is as rebellious as a child, untethered from the conventions of traditional Manileño filmmaking. The cinematography favors dizzying handheld shots over static ones, much like a child who can’t sit still. The editing is fragmented, constantly jumping between the past and present while weaving in seemingly unrelated comical tangents and moments from the kids’ lives, much like a child who is easily distracted and sidetracked. Though the main narrative unfolds over just a few days, the editing slows the pace, immersing us in the lives of these delinquents and making us feel as though we’ve known them all our lives. To top it off, the soundtrack adds a punk edge to the film, intensifying its defiant energy even more.
The style is chaotic and, at times, disorienting. Audiences might find it daunting, but that’s what makes it feel so real. It’s like remembering your own childhood in flashes rather than in linear recollection. It truly is an oddball of a film, a joyous and unique gem of Cebuano cinema that deserves to break free from the seasonal screenings and be seen by everyone.
The Last Supper | Still taken from Keith Deligero’s YouTube page
But it’s not all peaches and gravy in Sitio Malinawon. Everything that’s been built up throughout the film — particularly the sense of play and the camaraderie among the characters — culminates in a heart-wrenching finale that rips into the machismo and fantastical illusion of violence in the Pinoy action films the Iskalawags so eagerly consume.
In these movies, violence is portrayed as something heroic and a quick fix to problems that carries no real consequences. The climax confronts this delusion head-on, reminding us that in reality, violence leaves both physical and emotional scars that can haunt us for the rest of our lives. A certain special participation of a 90s action star seals the deal, hammering the unsettling truth with a tinge of irony.
There’s an undeniable bittersweetness in the film as it explores the fleeting nature of youth and how we eventually outgrow the playful freedom that makes childhood so memorable. Like the Iskalawags, I remember feeling invincible as a kid, unaware that innocence is something we inevitably lose as we grow older — sometimes without even realizing it, or in some cases, tragically. But we all have to grow up sometimes, and that’s unfortunate.
‘Iskalawags’ was one of the films screened in FDCP’s “Sine Singkwenta: Pelikula ng Bayan”.
