‘Moneyslapper’ REVIEW: A Convincing Display of Wealth
‘Moneyslapper’ REVIEW: A Convincing Display of Wealth
In Pampanga, there is desolation and a screaming lack of change. According to Bor Ocampo, this hometown of his is befitting of microrepresentations of colonial abuse, disorder, greed, and whatever else plagues the Philippines. With a script whose foundations are penned by Jason Paul Laxamana, Moneyslapper shapes up to be a scummy consolidation of the modern Filipino spirit, defined by anti-heroes in a story almost akin to a Western without all the valor or the glory.
Daniel, a victim of child trafficking in the province, finds himself all dusty and soulless, incredibly impoverished and barely making ends meet for himself when he strikes gold in the lotto. After escaping the clutches of an abusive life and being rescued by a pastor’s daughter named Jesse, he finds himself escaping Pampanga with his newfound wealth, living a life far richer than he imagined previously.
From this, a bulk of Moneyslapper is formed: the luck-stricken Daniel finds himself partying on a yacht years into the future, having been educated in America. On waking up from a cocaine bender and realizing the emptiness of indulging in such excess, he plots with his now lover, Jesse, to return to Pampanga and make things right with the inordinate amount of wealth that they have. The redemption that takes form takes very interesting choices.
It is interesting to consider Moneyslapper as a sort of Western in the sense that it borrows visual cues from the genre, imbibing locally identifiable references all throughout, and is centrally focused on the goal of redemption through Daniel’s perceived good over his evils. It’s the sort of quality only punctuated by visual cues like Bor Ocampo’s preference for medium shots, occasional views of the expanse, and quite humorously, Daniel briefly sporting a look that feels satirical of Simoun from El Filibusterismo.
Much is to be said about how John Lloyd Cruz decides to make Daniel the uncomfortable anti-hero that he is, especially one being made as a twisted interpretation of the ilustrado. It’s the nature of his being American-educated, yet carnal and violent in nature; the way he pursues his own form of justice towards a broken system and its complicit participants; or simply his narrow desire towards money as not just a form of charity, but a form of salvation.
Such note explains why the film is quite populated with the most blatant mixture of religious, sexual, and violent references. It’s clear to the film that the power associated with Philippine’s darkest characters are ones so cruelly defined by their dichotomous obsessions with sex and faith — people so easily mired in lust that run contrary to the faith that informs their moral choices.
It’s quite funny to the extent that Lav Diaz makes an appearance as Jesse’s father, Kulas, and proceeds to spout only dialogue straight from the Bible (as in, he ends every single line with the source!) while also making it clear that he sees women as a subservient sex. It’s quite depraved to the extent that Daniel’s form of retribution to his trafficker takes an indescribable one. There’s even a tinge of comic relief spread throughout this dark and twisted adventure, of which those aforementioned themes are explored to their furthest extent because the desolation becomes frankly absurd at some point.
Moneyslapper essentially explores these moralistic functions of wealth and power in their capacity to truly change others for one’s own good. The way in which Bor Ocampo and crew twist this to eventually explore power dynamics within families, relationships, and even religion, make for quite a compelling yet dizzying experience. It’s easy to be initially thrown off at the disjointed nature of Moneyslapper’s central story to other themes at play, especially with an adjacent story that bookends the film about a tour bus crew having to deal with American and Chinese foreigners doing whatever suits them to treat the Philippines as a playground of voyeurism and defecation. Though by the end of it, it’s lack of continuity is for the better of it, as the gaps are quite easy to relate anyway, what with foreign countries using so much of their wealth and money to convince the Philippines that their lives will be better with a million pesos and nothing else will follow.
Such musings are only highlighted by very discomforting and deluded characters. Whether it be John Lloyd’s bizarre performance as Daniel, Lav’s performance as a pious father, Roxlee’s cameo as a mumbling philosopher, or Jasmine Curtis-Smith’s attempts as Jesse to be a woman of her own, the type of storytelling that identifies Moneyslapper’s redemption is one amongst morally depraved souls. It’s the type of characterization imagery that doesn’t feel self-serving, if only it communicates things so blatant that it is quite mad at the state of things, and the only solution is to position its absurdity through equally absurd people.
Without diving further into it, Moneyslapper is really quite a profound and angry film. The whole thing is symbolically charged, only scattered and sometimes disconnected for better or for worse. Bor Ocampo in this film’s Q&A remarks having such a strong, if not personal connection to the film, and thus, can be easily identified through the resulting techniques and characters this film possesses. It’s the type of film that benefits from a slew of strange performances from its cast. The whole thing feels conclusively ridiculous, yet amazing if only because it makes quite the daring attempt to view money as a multifunctional device: as a means of power, as a source of income, and as a weapon.
The most remarkable thing about this pseudo-Western is that it does not involve any guns. Moneyslapper’s brand of violence gets disgusting without ever firing a bullet. It is methodical, yet reckless; straightforward, yet deep. Its most impressive aspect is its incorporation of symbolism and reality, how Daniel’s twisted morality comes into contact with a very dormant, very subdued Filipino people. The film really seeks to make a microcosm out of the Philippines, but never resorts to a gun. Violence is often the answer, but its brand goes beyond bullets.
Moneyslapper may wield quite a disjointed construction, but its absurdities are built like an endless nightmare where hell feels closer to being alive than dead.
Moneyslapper is part of QCinema 2024’s lineup as part of the Asian Next Wave competition.