This movie was 2 Cool 2 Be 4gotten
by Isabella Endrinal
From the title alone, 2 Cool 2 Be 4gotten (Petersen Vargas, 2016) promises something memorable, and director Petersen Vargas delivers that. Lush and nostalgic shots of Pampanga after the 1991 Mount Pinatubo eruption, paired with dreamy, hypnotic music, sets the perfect scene for a very compelling memory—that of the first love. But this movie isn’t your average coming-of-age romance. It’s the rare Filipino movie that tackles an LGBT story, and embraces all of its joy, confusion, and innocence. It also embraces the darkness that our obsessions drive us towards.
The movie focuses on Felix Salonga (Khalil Ramos), a friendless but smart sophomore in ’90s Pampanga. He’s convinced that there’s no one worth befriending there. However, the half- American Synder brothers transfer to his school. When Magnus Synder (Ethan Salvador) befriends him through remedial study sessions, Felix can’t help but fall in love with him. However, younger brother Maxim (Jameson Blake) has sinister plans that threaten their friendship.
On the surface, the movie is a nostalgic, ’90s-inspired teenage romance. This is the best part. Felix and Magnus’ chemistry moves you to root for their unexpected connection, making you remember those first pangs of your own young love. What starts as a paid tutoring session becomes their first real friendship. They share music through tape recordings. They share a love of Omegaboy. They even share a dream—to go to college in Manila. Despite obvious differences in their skin, race, and socioeconomic status, Magnus and Felix are each other’s only friend.
Felix’s attraction to Magnus is inevitable. When Magnus first approaches Felix, the Synder brother is literally bathed in sunlight, his skin glistening. Magnus shares a whole new world with Felix by way of Pampanga’s “Little America”—a far cry from the resettlement area Felix calls his home. Magnus introduces him to his first dance, first drink, and first smoke. Halfway into the movie, they walk on decade-old lahar, sharing what happened to them in the phenomenal explosion of Mt. Pinatubo. As their friendship blooms amidst the visible traces of destruction, Felix knows in his heart that this friendship is special. Felix wants to protect this, at all costs.
But this movie isn’t just about a provincial teenager falling for his half-American friend. It’s about colonial mentality. Before the Synder brothers enter the school, Felix and his teachers look down on being Filipino. Speaking Kapampangan is punished by a slap on the wrist. Top students are encouraged to work abroad, to send back dollars for their family, as if this was the only worthwhile aspiration. Even Felix looks down at his classmates, believing that his intelligence makes him worthy to study in the capital. The Synder brothers exacerbate this mentality. Felix’s fever-like dream casts Magnus as Tagalog epic hero Florante, hinting at our historical idealization of the white, straight man. And, in his pride at being Magnus’ friend, he deludes himself into thinking that the dollars he receives bring him to their level.
As we get closer to the end, this film becomes sickening, and necessarily so. The internalized hatred, the greed, the exploitation, and the rage and anxiety at being abandoned—all of these factors provoke our characters to do no good. No one escapes this—classmates kill for dollars, teachers sexually abuse the new students. But our main characters have it worst of all. Like Cain and Abel, Maxim kills his brother in the hope of being accepted by his father. And like Eve tempted by the snake, Felix reaches out to Magnus and touches him. This ends their friendship. Magnus is lost to Felix forever, not only because he is dead, but also because Felix becomes one of those people who abuses him—eyes fixed on his Americanness, but not on him. The ending of their friendship is also a betrayal.
In the end, Felix can only cling to Magnus’ memory. He can only go back, and sit atop the lahar, imagining that Magnus is there with him. He has no choice but to accept that their desire to be American ended that friendship. The visceral way Vargas depicts our learned obsession with what’s White clings to my mind. It’s a personal experience that I’ve never seen depicted with such painful accuracy before. As someone who grew up alongside half-white and rich classmates, I felt that confusion in the difference in our subcultures. I felt that urge to deny my Filipino-ness, taking in their music, TV shows, and movies. I lived that tug of war—simultaneously drawn to them, yet alienated by their world. Taking that pain and putting it on screen was a brave decision. It will take a long time to get over years of colonization, trying to heal ourselves from our self-inflicted wounds, but I think that this movie is a great start to the process. Vargas’ debut feature acknowledges that truth, and because of this, is an iconic moment in Asian cinema.
Isabella Endrinal is a recent graduate from the Philippines. She was the former Vice President of the Secretariat for the Loyola Film Circle.