I was apprehensive as soon as it was announced. The first one was already perfect. Why risk its ruin? The trailer was released and I worried more. I missed the grit and texture of Hong Kong and I was turned off by how saturated the colors were. I missed Ethan’s pores. Joy’s sweat. “Was this filmed against a green screen?”

Even so, I love the characters too much to not want to see them again. So I did. I caught the first screening on opening day. And two hours later, I’m still crying on the way home, looping TJ and KZ’s duet about the commitment to choose the same person. Always. Every day. Despite.

(Warning: Minor spoilers ahead.)

A change in scenery

It’s a bit disorienting, to see Joy inhabit a different place. One that isn’t crowded, where streets are wide but cars are few, where snow-capped mountains instead of old buildings stand eternally in the background.

But I guess that’s why it’s right for this story. I’m reminded of a joke Joross made in the first film: “They’re stuck in the ‘stuck’ room.” A possibly unintentional metaphor for Hong Kong, the place both of them struggled to get out of but whose crampedness forced them to be together. 

The streets of Calgary are too wide, and its sky is endless. Here, drifting apart should be easy.

Past and present

This contrast becomes more and more pronounced as the film peels the layers of their relationship’s demise by occasionally jumping back to the past. 

“Five minutes” used to be a request to cuddle in bed longer, now it’s a plea to pause the fighting. A cramped room once forced them to contend with their mutual love, now it’s forcing them to confront their individual demons. The man you loved because of how they relentlessly supported you, you now love despite how they burden you.

Familiar scenarios

This is not exactly a first in Philippine cinema, let alone Star Cinema history. Aga and Lea in Sana Maulit Muli. Piolo and Claudine in Milan. And now, Alden and Kathryn, here. Men who whine about dealing with the same white people’s dirt that their female counterparts endure are pretty usual. Did the writers recycle this dynamic? Is it an homage? I don’t know. But is it a persistent truth? I think so.

However, it doesn’t only have similarities with previous films; it also has similarities with previous ones by Direk Cathy herself. The forced cohabitation and non-linear storytelling may remind you of The Hows of Us. The awkwardness between the exes, One More Chance. The break-up reminds you of It Takes a Man and a Woman. Even Uno’s vibe reminds me of Mir from Miss You Like Crazy! 

Screw it, though. Wes Anderson always has maps and plans that go wrong, and Christopher Nolan always has old and wise Michael Caine, right? Direk Cathy gets to have her signature. (Thank goodness it’s not a wig.) 

Joross, et cetera

And speaking of her signature, Joross Gamboa. 

I’m convinced by now that Direk Cathy trusts his sense of humor so much she just lets him do these ad-libs that become some of the most memorable lines in her films. Leading the rest of the loud supporting ensemble (another Direk Cathy staple!), his zingers lend a lot of levity to what could’ve been a very tense, dramatic movie.

The Filipino community

The rest of the cast is fun enough, too, but it’s that they provide access to what the Filipino community in Canada is like that I appreciate more. Yes, they’re warm, loud, fun, and extremely caring – good stuff we all know and are proud of. But one thing I especially like about Hello, Love, Again’s depiction of the Pinoy community is that it’s honest enough to make us capable of causing our fellow Filipinos harm and abuse.

And then there’s COVID

The pandemic tested many relationships, and here’s where the particularness of this international worker experience really gets highlighted. Many of the stuff we see in the film – marrying to be a permanent resident, Pinoys sharing a small house, doing lots of side jobs – are stuff we’ve more or less seen before.

Getting stuck in another country amidst a global pandemic, however, is pretty new in film, and it’s through this part of the story that Alden Richards pretty much secured his next Best Actor nomination.

This Ethan is proof that the pandemic wasn’t by any means an equalizer; it revealed how progress is more fragile for most, and how some of us came out of those two years utterly altered. And stripped of his luster and joy, Alden’s Ethan annoys, angers, and devastates. 

“Nandito na naman ako.”

Meanwhile, Marie lies. Joy isn’t gone, just hidden. Suppressed as an act of self-preservation. And while it’s fun seeing the lie creep up on her because it provides the film with some of its lightest moments, Kathryn tackling grit, grief, and heartbreak is just an entirely different beast. At one point, Joy reprimanded Ethan for performing poorly at a job and I was scared of her. She did that without a close-up and while wearing a mask. 

Jealous and drunk Joy is the peak Kathryn, though. I was well-prepared for a light, funny moment of her failing to hide her jealousy that I thought would lead to a confession, but the gear shifts. And perhaps, to a degree, the fourth wall is broken. Suddenly, I’m not only witnessing a beloved character annihilate a monologue, I’m watching the brightest star of this generation, someone we all grew up with, bare her soul to an extent she never has and through the only channel she ever would: her craft.  

The Thing Is…

My brain wouldn’t shut up while I was watching the film; it annoyed me. “I’d rewrite that line.” “I’m not sure about that choice.” “That joke didn’t land.” “This has been done before.” My yapping went on. Still, I laughed heartily, didn’t I? I cried with them more times than I’d admit, too. When I got home, I thought about a poem by Ellen Bass. It goes:

Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

To not be blind to shortcomings and excesses, but staying anyway; to find it far from perfect, but still loving it so. “To hold life like a face” after it’s beaten you blue. To embrace a person, a story, life for both its tarnish and shine. I guess that’s the point. We know we love when we love despite, don’t we? 

I love Hello, Love, Again.

Seen the movie already? Tell us your thoughts in the comments!