On a Christmas evening, a family's simple plan to watch a blockbuster at Robinsons Place Jaro took an unexpected turn. Instead of the anticipated spectacle of Avatar 3, they found themselves drawn to the festive poster for the Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) entry, Call Me Mother. What followed was not just a movie, but a moving experience that left them walking out of the theater quieter, heavier, and filled with a sense of gratitude.
A Deliberate Shift in Tone and Comedy
Following the high-energy, quip-heavy success of Vice Ganda's previous film, And the Breadwinner Is…, Call Me Mother represents a clear and deliberate shift. The comedy in this film is present but restrained, knowing when to step back and allow quieter moments to breathe. Slapstick humor no longer dominates scenes that require emotional depth. The film trusts in the power of silence, meaningful pauses, and lingering glances, signaling a growth in storytelling approach where the material, not just the star, leads the scene.
Layered Storytelling and Political Subtleties
The film operates on multiple levels. On the surface, it explores complex themes of motherhood—contrasting biological ties with chosen family, and legal definitions with lived experience. Beneath this narrative, Call Me Mother is rich with intentional details that reward attentive viewers. These are not heavy-handed political statements but subtle winks, like the pageant contenders named Miss Iloilo, Miss Albay, and Miss Taguig—regions with distinct political identities in recent Philippine elections. This layering reflects the real-world awareness of its stars, Vice Ganda and Nadine Lustre, without ever becoming preachy.
The film tackles recognizable Filipino realities, including the lives of Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs), legal insecurities, queer parenting, and informal adoption. The difference from similar films is its tone; these issues feel lived-in and authentic, not merely announced for dramatic effect.
Unforgettable Performances and Emotional Climax
The emotional core of the film is powerfully held by Lucas Andalio as Angelo. His performance is devastating in its simplicity, grounding every scene and preventing the story from tipping into melodrama. However, the film's most unforgettable sequence is a tense fifteen-minute climax where social workers and barangay officials intervene in the home. In this scene, Vice Ganda delivers arguably her strongest dramatic performance to date. Twinkle's resistance is raw, human, and ferocious, culminating in a heart-wrenching act of letting go that redefines the entire film's message about love and sacrifice.
Nadine Lustre provides a crucial emotional counterweight in a revelation scene during the UniWorld pageant. Her performance is marked by calm vulnerability, a stark and effective contrast to Vice Ganda's rawness. Technically, director Jun Robles Lana demonstrates confident control, using camera tilts and lighting to mirror the characters' emotional states, particularly in the poignant Disneyland scenes.
While not without minor flaws—some plot conveniences and a slower first half—the film's overwhelming sincerity carries it. The humor knows its place, the tears feel earned, and its message trusts the audience's intelligence. In a festival season often defined by noise and spectacle, Call Me Mother makes a radical choice: to sit quietly with the complexities of love, proving that sometimes the most powerful statement is a restrained one.
