Filmmaker Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu must be very inspired to conceive and bleed for 21 Grams. This tale would remind us of Christopher Nolan who boggled the mind of everyone with his very non-linear obra, Memento and Quentin Tarantino who contributed the Oscar awards-snubbed (since the lead actors and the director are all Oscar winners, I have to include this tidbit) Pulp Fiction and its equally non-linear narration and how Marsellus Wallace (Vhing Rhames) stood in (near) absentia as the lead character.


For the nth time, let me stress that there is no such thing as an original idea. Tell that to your boss, crazybitch!


Inarritu fed us with images, encouraging us to complete his puzzle as if he has heard my blatant whines in Tagalog that I’m sick and tired of the ice-cold shakes Hollywood has been giving me. This Mexican chef served an empty plate before my eyes, sprinkled one spicy ingredient after another and left the table napkin afar from my reach in purpose.


Isn’t it frustrating that no matter how hard Jack (Benicio del Toro) attempts to follow his faith, harder times seduce him, pierce him with an arrow? His decision to reach to God distanced him away from his own angels. As a result, his abode was divided into two, contrasting voices. I actually chuckled.

Mary (Charlotte Gainsbourg) shuts the door then re-opens it when it ceased from knocking. She asks Paul (Sean Penn) for another chance, yet he gave unintentionally to Christina (Naomi Watts). What a joke.

Christina has lost Michael (Danny Huston) and their lovely kids. Her initial response to their demise altered when Michael reincarnated in Paul’s dying body, pleading her for poetic justice. When she finally woke up from her sleep, she carries the baby that warrants a new chapter in her book. Like what happened before.

It is refreshing to view this film, how the hand-held camera inched us closer to what the characters feel, how the sequencing preached it doesn’t matter what comes first or last since life is a cycle until we’re 21 grams lighter and how it postulates that death makes room for another life. I thought at the beginning I’ll get bored, but the end made me ask for more.

Confession: If Jessica Zafra watches Benicio del Toro flicks with hormones, then I viewed the guy seats away from me with hormones. In the dark, of course.