A Cunningly Subversive Tribute by Rozette Diaz ...

A Cunningly Subversive Tribute
by Rozette Diaz

Emir (2010)
D: Chito Roño
S: Frencheska Farr, Sid Lucero, Dulce

Emir (which means prince) is the Philippines’ first full-length musical written by Palanca Award winner Jerry Gracio and directed by Chito Roño. The movie’s big risk is its lead actress, Frencheska Farr. I mean, who the heck is she? Why would people go to a two-hour film to see her? Well, in my humble opinion, I think you should go and find out for yourself. Let Frencheska introduce herself to you.

The film tells the story of Amelia, a simple Filipina nanny who is given the task of caring for the Sheik’s son, Ahmed. Through the years, their relationship’s closeness becomes similar to that of a mother and a son, with Ahmed eventually learning how to speak and understand Filipino. But one day war ensues and the royal family is forced to evacuate. What happens next is a mix of tragedy and some drama without losing the film’s musicality.

The beauty of this film is in the songs and some of the production numbers. I say some because there are quite a few numbers the movie could’ve done better without. Not because they’re ugly, but because the film is too fugging long and I felt, as I was watching the movie, like I’ve been sitting there for hours. That’s a bad sign. One of the scenes I particularly disliked for its unnecessary length is Dulce’s grand song number past the middle of the movie. I just couldn’t wait for it to end. But the best song numbers are the ones with the lead actress in it, like the one between Amelia and Victor (played by Sid Lucero). Very sweet, very touching, and yes, very kilig. I would willingly sit through the whole movie again just for that scene.

My other favorite scene: the “Pesteng Salot” number. It definitely scared me knowing that the President was watching right behind us that night. But I was also really happy about it.

There’s also the setting. Sceneries from both the Philippines and Morocco are both heavily present in this film and they’re stunning. There’s the emptiness of the desert, then the abundance of the Banaue Rice Terraces. It’s very ironic, very telling.

The film starts out pretty classical in the beginning and deviates a bit towards the end. The strength lies in the wonderful lyrics of the songs, Farr’s brilliant voice, and the charm of the OFW story set against a strange and harsh Moroccan backdrop. “Bakit ako naririto?” asks Amelia throughout the film. Once you leave the theater, you’ll find yourself singing the same line over and over again.