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There never seems to be any acting going on, as both Lee and Houngheuangsy fill scenes with tiny details of personality, including glimpses of the characters' emotional depth. The camera captures them physically as well, with a tactile sense of their skin and bodies, including a couple of pointed handheld shots. This further lets us sense what these men are feeling at each point in the story, from the heat of a Bangkok flat to the force of medical treatment.

There's a mesmerising quality to this film, as we watch these two lonely men on a collision course. So the extended encounter between them in the hotel room is remarkably moving, as is what they decide to do afterwards, all of which gives the final scenes some raw power. It's hard to escape that this film could have been edited into a 15-minute short, but the immersive effect of sitting with it for just over two hours is remarkable.

themes, sexuality

8.Oct.20 lff

The three lead actors embody their roles with attitude and physicality, often effectively heightened, especially when they're drunk. Andres mostly defers to his elders, but does so cynically. Baldo is terrified of local myths, blaming Andres for cursing them to a violent death. And Paulo is depressed to be a grown man reduced to working like an animal for a pittance. So when the plot suddenly leaps forward, or steps to the side, we become curious to fill in the gaps. And the big picture isn't rosy.

Diaz shoots scenes in often unnervingly clever ways, using wide frames to put characters in context with each other and their environment. So the island's grisly history from the galleon trade to WWII plays into the story. And where this plot continues to go after the trio's momentous cross-island trek is even edgier, tapping into the kinds of feral impulses that are expressed by those who have elected and still support immoral politicians, which of course doesn't only happen in the Philippines.

themes, language, violence

10.Oct.20 lff

Rivas holds the film with a strikingly open-handed performance as a woman who is being worn down by the gyrations inside her mind. She's smart and funny, but constantly riddled with terror that she tries to compartmentalise, often looking like she's seen a ghost. Her attempts to isolate and rid herself of this intruder are intriguing and downright freaky. And her interaction with other characters bristles with a blend of warmth and wariness. The characters around her are rooted in earthier authenticity, although that's not how Ines sees them.

Intriguingly, the films original Spanish title means "the fugitive", which gives the premise a rather different slant. There are times when Meta's dream-within-dreams approach loses the viewer, because it's tricky to remain engaged when the plot is this opaque. But we can't help but sympathise with Ines as her mind continues to slip, wondering along with her what's actually going on here. And as a depiction of a woman who learns to give in to her deeper yearnings, this is seriously audacious filmmaking.

themes, language, violence, sexuality

11.Oct.20 lff