JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Technically the servants in the Sharon/Gabby households might be described as poor people, but they’re not so much characters as signifiers of wealth, part of the production design.

Philippine cinema has always been obsessed with class. This is to be expected since Philippine society is extremely class-obsessed: everyone wants to look rich (hence the demand for skin-whitening products and luxury goods) because everyone looks down on the poor—especially the poor. In Tagalog movies the rich boy/girl is always falling in love with the poor girl/boy and defying his/her snooty family in order to be with the beloved. These movies always end happily—the audience must be assured that true love is the solution to the class struggle (very Christian, if you think about it).

I suppose rich people marry poor people in real life, but with less frequency than they do in the movies (and by rich we mean people whose net worth is not substantially affected by fluctuations in the exchange rate). Also, these poor are more properly termed ex-poor—many of them have become movie/TV stars, basketball players, and beauty queens.

In the early Sharon-Gabby movies people meet at polo matches, take private planes to visit their haciendas, and hang out on their yachts. Sharon Cuneta was very effective in these early roles because she was essentially playing herself: a rich girl who spoke fluent English and had the colegiala mannerisms. There was almost no acting required. It was later, when she became a Serious Actress, that the performances began to strain credulity. Consider the Lino Brocka komiks melodrama Pasan Ko Ang Daigdig (I Carry the World, or as we referred to it, Atlas), in which Sharon literally carried her “mother” on her back as she poked among the stinking garbage heaps on Smoky Mountain.

Clearly she was more comfortable on a yacht. Unfortunately the local definition of “serious actress” requires the performer to endure the most horrific torments. Only then will she gain critical “respect”.

Going back to P.S. I Love You, which I recently saw in an execrable Viva DVD release that makes us yearn for the clarity and quality of pirate downloads, Boots Anson Roa finds out that her daughter is dating Eddie Garcia’s son. She forbids Sharon from seeing Gabby.

Gabby is reduced to staking out Sharon’s house, which has a huge Arturo Luz sculpture (I think) out front, enrolling in her summer cooking class, and stalking the beloved as she accompanies her mom to play golf.

Admittedly the obstacle to true love is flimsy. No one believes for a second that Sharon and Gabby will not end up together. And just before the movie hits the two-hour mark, all barriers are toppled. “I’ll be at the hacienda as soon as I can,” Gabby tells Sharon on the phone.

“Take the plane,” Eddie Garcia, says, “it’s faster.” This is my favorite line in the movie. I have taken to using it in ordinary conversation. “The traffic on Edsa is awful.” “Take the plane. It’s faster.”

As Gabby’s plane lands, Sharon gallops towards him on her horse. Bursting with emotion, they leap from their respective modes of transportation, and run

run run into each other’s arms. Love me, love my pilot/horse. It beats taking the MRT.