POKWANG. Plays it for tears.
“A MOTHER’S Story” casts comedienne Pokwang in her first “serious” film role, as a long-suffering overseas contract worker who left her loved ones behind to assure them a brighter future. Pokwang knows whereof she acts, because she was an OCW for many years herself—but, that key advantage turns out to be insufficient “emotional capital” for her to come up with a truly creditable performance.
What seems to be the problem? For starters, the movie initially hedges its bets by making its lead actress engage in some comic antics—like a scene at the airport upon her return, where she’s greeted by a marching band, given a huge bouquet of flowers, and acts like a kooky conquering heroine.
So, when Pokwang eventually cries her heart out when her “martyr-mother” character has to contend with her husband and son’s ingratitude, the shift is too sudden and “push button” to be truly affecting.
Another distraction is provided by the fact that the film quite often goes into emotional territory that’s already been effectively mined in past movies about OCWs and their fractured families. To make those scenes, relationships and encounters fresh and vital again, “A Mother’s Story” should have provided its own, newly insightful take on them, instead of just opening the faucets again to have another good cry.
What the film does come up with that’s significantly new is its attempt to dramatize the story from the point of view of the OCW’s employers. One of them is sympathetic, and give Pokwang’s character extra money and a shoulder to cry on.
But, Pokwang also has to contend with employers who are mean, nasty and treat her almost like a slave. In addition, a Fil-Am friend turns out to be another exploiter, so Pokwang’s feelings of hurt and betrayal know no bounds.
Despite all of these vicissitudes, however, the lead actress’ performance doesn’t come up to an empathetic cathartic climax, because she plays it more for tears than genuine emotional insight. This is really strange, because the actress has lived those scenes. Unfortunately, however, the genuine tears don’t translate into authentic significance in her performance.
Sacrifice
Happily, Noni Buencamino does better as her husband. He’s definitely a louse and a heel, but the actor is still able to make us understand why, in his subjective view, he reacts the way he does to his wife’s selfless sacrifice for their family.
Daria Ramirez also does well in the film, but Rayver Cruz and Xyriel Manabat fall short as Pokwang’s children. Rayver does his “ingrate” scenes well enough, but he can’t manage the shift to remorse and change of heart with sufficient emotional believability and depth.
As for Xyriel, she plays yet another lista, sassy, verbose and precociously mature kid—and, frankly, we’re tired of the stereotype and wish that she could portray a real child, for a change.