‘How to Be Yours’ and the Privilege of Choice
Given the chance, what will you choose: Love or career?
Film: How to Be Yours
Directed by: Dan Villegas
Story by: Dan Villegas
Screenplay by: Patrick Valencia, Hyro Aguinaldo
Starring: Bea Alonzo, Gerald Anderson, Bernard Palanca, Janus del Prado
Is it possible to have it all: a successful career and a meaningful relationship with someone you love?
This is the question being explored in Star Cinema’s latest romantic-comedy movie, “How to Be Yours,” which tells the love story of Anj (Bea Alonzo), an amateur cook who dreams of working at an upscale restaurant, and Niño (Gerald Anderson), a career-driven guy who sells high-end light fixtures for a living.
Anj and Niño’s romance started out with a stereotypical meet-cute: flirtatious looks and coy smiles as they see each other for the first time, playful banter over drinks, and dancing to cheesy disco tunes.
The attraction is instant, the conversations are easy yet meaningful, and everything just feels oh so right. After a night spent talking and laughing, it’s clear: There’s something there. And just like that — with brilliant courtship montages, flirty text and tweet exchanges, and kilig romantic gestures added to the mix — a relationship is born.
The next scenes show us the bliss and excitement of a new love. Anj brings out the fun in Niño as she shows him that there is more to life than his job. Niño, on the other hand, helps her overcome her insecurities and supports her in achieving her dreams.
But even when these two very different people do everything they can to keep the relationship happy and healthy, a change in priorities starts to put a strain in their relationship. Career-driven Niño is starting to think of settling down, while freewheeling Anj decides to go all-in in pursuing her passion.
A demanding workplace and a breakdown in communication complicate matters even more, and when push comes to shove, the relationship falls apart.
As someone who has been gorging on all things romance (books, television shows, and movies), I knew from the get-go that “How to Be Yours” would be telling a story that I’ve seen and read so many times. Having to choose between love and career — or as how Anj puts it, “Choice A or Choice B” — is a theme that has been portrayed and explored in the romance genre numerous times and in numerous ways.
Yes, to describe “How to Be Yours” as groundbreaking is an exaggeration, but to dismiss it altogether as a run-of-the-mill and formulaic romantic-comedy is an unfair oversimplification. Because no matter how simple or familiar the story is, when a movie is done right, it resonates with the audience.
And resonate it does.
With Dan Villegas at the helm, it comes as no surprise that “How to Be Yours” is effective and, more importantly, sincere in the message it wants to relay. With a slew of romantic films — plus a TV show — under his directorial belt, Villegas is practically an expert in telling character-driven stories about love and relationships. And “How to Be Yours” is a great showcase of his intimate, personal, yet very relatable, style of storytelling.
The cinematography and the production design are the icing on the cake. The lighting, the slow-motion sequences, the music — all add color and detail to the world these characters inhabit.
But the beauty of “How to Be Yours” is in its ability to perform the delicate balancing act of showing us a love story that is both specific and universal. Anj and Niño feel, act, and talk like real people — thanks to the winning combination of the screenplay written by Patrick Valencia and Hyro Aguinaldo, and the performances of Alonzo and Anderson.
Alonzo is a veteran in romantic movies, and you can definitely see it in her performance as Anj. She sells it all — Anj’s cheery disposition despite her insecurities, the on-screen chemistry with Anderson, the kilig, and even those awkward and cheesy “po” lines. But it is Anderson that really surprises in this movie. Gerald Anderson has graduated from his maangas pretty boy roles and the change is apparent.
One scene in particular perfectly captures the depth and growth in Anderson as an actor: Anj’s sister was heaping praises on Chef Pocholo (Anj’s Gordon Ramsay of a boss, played by Bernard Palanca) for all his support in pushing Anj to follow her dreams. The camera then focuses on Niño, and you see him going rigid as he hears the remark. He keeps silent all throughout the exchange, but when he sees Anj smiling and letting her sister’s comment pass without any input, his stoic mask cracks and all the anger, disappointment, and pent-up frustration burst out of him.
Anderson may not have any lines in this scene, but just by looking at his face you hear him anyway: “Hindi ba ako ang sumuporta sa’yo, Anj? Hindi ba ako?”
Anj and Niño’s relationship feels authentic, too. You feel all the #feels as if you were witnessing their blossoming love in real time. You can’t help but giggle and shriek in kilig when they flirt and banter with each other.
As they get closer, you get invested in them, too. You’re even conflicted when watching their love scene because it’s sexy and intimate and the chemistry is so palpable. Gah! It feels like voyeurism somehow.
And when they fight, you understand it. It’s logical. The movie never falls short of showing you how minor misunderstandings and little resentments can grow and evolve into a bigger and more complex problem.
You see how much they still love each other. Yet you also feel their struggle and anguish like a punch in the gut.
In the scene where Anj and Niño break up, it’s evident that the fight in them is gone. And you can’t help but feel powerless as you witness how this once beautiful relationship slowly crumbles.
Real people with real problems — when it comes to movies, it really is that simple.
Strangely, although I enjoyed “How to Be Yours” and would gladly recommend it to anyone who likes romantic films, what struck me the most was this idea of choice that Villegas (who also wrote the story) posits in the movie.
Maybe this reveals more about me than the movie itself, but this idea of having to choose between a passionate relationship and individual aspirations lingered in my mind well after seeing the film.
I was even slightly irked at how the burden of this choice fell again — like in most romance stories that explore this theme — on the woman. (Of course, it’s the woman! Of course! Art imitates life and all that.)
When Niño drops this throwaway remark, “… Dahil diyan sa lecheng pangarap mo,” Anj looks at him as if he slapped her. Even I felt the sting of that metaphorical hit.
And when Pocholo notes that he and Anj turned out to be similar when they chose their careers over their relationships, I was with Anj all the way when she counters: “Pero bakit kailangan kong mamili?”
Yes, Pocholo (and Mr. Villegas), do we really need to choose? Isn’t it possible to have it all?
The film says, yes, you can have it all. But as Pocholo explained, it’s difficult. You have to work on it. You have to be willing to compromise and sacrifice. (Although real-life studies provide a sobering and more pragmatic outlook regarding this idea of “having it all.”)
What’s more, and this I realize after having analyzed (or overanalyzed, for that matter) this dilemma, you also have to see and appreciate that choice for what it is: a privilege.
Anj and Niño are an upper middle-class couple with upper middle-class concerns and upper middle-class sensibilities. Not everyone has the freedom to choose love over career, or vice versa. And you can forget about wanting to have it all!
Some people can’t even spare the time to think about it. They need to work, never mind if the job is not aligned with their personal goals and passions. They need their paychecks to put food on the table, pay the bills, send their siblings to school, or pay their parent’s medical expenses.
I’m not saying this to negate or belittle Anj and Niño’s journey as a couple. As I said, although “How to Be Yours” tackles universal issues, it still tells a specific story about specific people. I understand where Anj and Niño are coming from (I come from the same background, too). And I get the story Villegas wanted to tell.
It’s just that this idea of choice has unsettled me, is still unsettling me.
What a weird takeaway from a romance movie, right?
Maybe this is the mark of a thought-provoking film: its ability to not only make its audience feel or think as they watch a story unfold, but to push them to dissect and even deconstruct the film beyond the confines of the screen and apply it to the real world.
Funny that a mainstream rom-com can do that.
And, yes, I still want an answer: Paano na lang kung walang choice?
