Pamilya Ordinaryo is No Ordinary Film

Pamilya Ordinaryo (a 2016 Filipino film streaming as Ordinary People on Netflix) is an honest, in your face, uncompromising look at the lives of street children.  We see them everyday; so we may have become so used to them being part of the streets. The film, therefore, pushes us to at least acknowledge that they are as human as anyone else, regardless of economic strata. They can even be more human despite their foul language, coarse manners, and rugby-sniffing habits.

In particular, the film lets us peek into the life of a homeless teenaged couple, 17-year-old Aries and 16-year-old Jane, who have just become parents to their one-month old baby. They curse and yell, and invectives seem to define their first language. They always fight, but it just seems part of their daily routine, that to do otherwise would be an aberration in their existence.  Oddly, you would still feel the care they have for each other. They do petty crimes from phone snatching to shoplifting in order to survive (and at times, just to please the wife’s fondness for something new).  Then one day, their baby gets stolen.  And as marginalized as they already are, the harshness of today’s society and culture of deception all the more push them down to the ground as they desperately search for their baby.

Though calloused and experienced in the mundane, their youth gets in the way of discernment.  Thus, they end up trusting the vultures and stealing from people who would have been their savior. The inconsiderate and insensitive police is once again highlighted in the film, asking questions that lean toward perversion and are irrelevant to the case just to get a glimpse of Jane’s lactating nipples. While the radio announcers seem sympathetic to the couple’s plight, discussion on air points more to their self-righteousness.  The TV segment producer may have altruistic intentions, but inevitably succumbs to romanticizing the couple’s troubles following the dictates of media ratings game. Jane and Aries choose to put their trust on an obviously dubious character that would lead them to their baby’s whereabouts.  But can we blame them if desperation now controls their thoughts and actions?  Of course, there are those who would provide genuine help.  But they are not technically empowered, thus, limiting their sincere efforts.

Ronwaldo Martin (yes, Coco Martin’s brother) and Hasmine Killip deliver excellent performances.  Their take on their roles feels fresh and raw. They provide Aries and Jane the near perfect amount and combination of soul and physicality to their characters, making them so real.  They make their characters both unapologetic and sympathetic at the same time, a feat no ordinary actor can do.

The film’s structure makes us feel like a voyeur, secretly witnessing their story as it unfolds, yet feeling frustrated for we can only see them but are unable to do anything material. I like the use of CCTV footages in the film foreboding something bad is about to happen. It heightens the realism and adds suspense to the chosen segments.

Jane’s resolve to return the baby speaks volumes of humanity. She is a mother after all and while she’s suffering, she wouldn’t wish other mothers to feel the pain she’s feeling. The film predictably ends in a dark and depressing situation. The abrupt ending (i have never been fond of abrupt endings) could have been improved though.  I don’t have specific alternatives, but maybe showing them back in their shelter may still speak of hopelessness. But then again, the bus scene may imply that the journey to survival continues in spite of the series of unfortunate events.