Local mainstream films aren’t allowed to have sad endings. The general wisdom is that people go to the movies to escape from their problems, and thus do not want leave theaters in a state lower than when they entered. And so, for a film to be commercially viable, it has to stay positive. It was explained to me once that Land Down Under had its title changed to Love Me Again because “under” is a negative word.

As a governing philosophy for local mainstream filmmaking, it isn’t ideal, but it’s understandable. There is nothing inherently wrong with making generally positive films, especially given the season. Escapism is a long held cinematic tradition, the realm of fiction the only place where people can eat their cake and have it, too, our idealized heroes and heroines overcoming every hurdle, ending up deliriously happy in the arms of a loved one. The problem only surfaces when a movie doesn’t call for a happy ending. This is what happens with I Love You Goodbye, a film that has a pretty interesting story to tell, but ends up fumbling it as it saunters towards an ending it cannot possibly deserve.

Lizelle (Angelica Panganiban) is girlfriend to successful (and older) surgeon Adrian (Gabby Concepcion). The two are very happy together, but Lizelle is struggling to gain acceptance from Adrian’s domineering mother and his daughter from a previous marriage Ysa (Kim Chiu), who both see Lizelle as just another gold digger. Things get tougher for her when Ysa brings home Gary (Derek Ramsay), an old flame of Lizelle’s who’s returned to the country in the hopes of rekindling his relationship with her. Though Lizelle loves Adrian, various problems take its toll on their relationship, and everyone is forced to face some difficult choices.

The film is operatic in nature, working off heightened emotions and terribly dramatic situations. It is the kind of film where tears flow freely and people get slapped thrice in a single scene, all while the score swells to a dramatic maximum. Director Laurice Guillen keeps the dramatic tension high, the romance steamy and the emotions overflowing. Lee Meily’s luscious visuals provide operatic grandeur as well. But it is also a story that makes some tough choices with its characters, allowing them to be more complex than the context would suggest. The movie benefits from moments of silence, when the music dares not intrude on the heartfelt words of the movie’s characters, letting us dwell in their unique piece of sadness without interruption. It is in these moments that the movie advances towards inevitable tragedy, dutifully placing the pieces on its chessboard of sorrow.

I do not know if it really matters, but I’m placing a spoiler warning here. Do not continue reading if you wish to avoid knowing how things turn out.

And so for a hundred or so minutes, the movie lurches towards tragedy, and surprisingly, pulls the trigger. The machinations are convoluted, the plot relying on too many conveniences, but the character arcs mostly pull it off. The problem is that the tragedy doesn’t matter. In the final scene, we skip ahead to a happier future, where everything has magically changed for the better. The cloud that hangs over the couple’s head appears to have dissipated. Lizelle is happily accepted by people who still hated her last we saw them, all their apprehensions whisked away by the clumsy jump forward. I do not begrudge anyone their happy ending, but in any narrative, endings have to be earned. In the same instant, much of what was built in the previous one hundred or so minutes is pretty much thrown out the window, all the grand opera lost as everyone dutifully forgets everything that happened to them in service of the requisite happy ending.

It also largely wastes the efforts of Angelica Panganiban, who puts on a pretty remarkable performance. Through all the heightened emotions of this operatic tale, she stays amazingly sincere, grounding her tears with unflinching humanity. Late in the film, she delivers a confession that rings wonderfully true, the movie taking a rare moment of silence to let us savor her performance. Her leading men work pretty well, too, though their limitations are a little obvious. Kim Chiu manages to spread her wings a little bit, but she obviously needs a little more time to grow.

A dark tale doesn’t necessarily warrant a dark ending, but this one does. I Love You Goodbye manages to sow some beautiful seeds of sadness, but chose not to reap them. And it’s easy to understand why it had to be done: this just isn’t the environment to tell darker tales. As reasons go, it’s all right, but it doesn’t really make the movie any easier to swallow.

My Rating: