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Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Yap:Chainsaw massacre
By Januar E. Yap
Meanwhile
A mysterious pirate named Alex U. appeared in a dream to lend me an invariably mysterious DVD copy of a film with the likewise mysterious title of “The Jailhouse Chainsaw Massacre,” produced by the equally mysterious producer, Hannah Barbers cartoons.
But it wasn’t cartoon though. The film, I discovered later, was a disturbing ultra-realistic take on the blood and gore that according to its epigraph actually happened in the city’s jailhouse facility sometime (and, well, its director has an enormous talent for intense paradoxes) in the not-so-distant future.
The jailhouse, built in the age of innocence, finds itself on top of a dormant volcano around which lies a meshwork of fault lines. That by itself is a portent. The story is set against a backdrop of a city, or a country for that matter, in anarchy. Much bickering has been centered on the mysterious bank accounts of an alleged mutant named Jose Pidal. On the other hand, the police have been unable to solve crimes perpetrated by a strong army of Martian immigrants who took advantage of the perihelion (the point in the orbit of a planet at which it comes closest to the sun, although in this case Earth and Mars). Palpable in the recent months, the coming elections stir the city’s trapos gung ho, panicking for alignment—monetary and allegiance, and not necessarily in that order.
The city’s expert crime analysts believe the robberies are some sort of fund-raising activities for the politicians. That brings us to the backbone of the story, in the macrocosm of the jailhouse facility. The film vaguely hints of the initials BBRC, which accordingly means Big Brother, Release the Criminals.
The plot begins upon the discovery of a chainsaw in the jail compound. By the way, so as not to confuse you, the film runs with parallel plots, connected only in the sense that they depict the
ery state of the nation.
The crux of the story came when a mad (Or was he?) inmate unleashes Pandora’s box in a fit of violence via his chainsaw. As a result, the city’s rated criminals bolts the compound and into the arms of politicians who are only too willing to employ them into the secret army of election fund-raisers.
But the story ends at this point. The credits roll. I woke up. Thank God it’s only a movie. And in a dream.
(September 16, 2003 issue)
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