The Twilight movies catch a lot of flak for “ruining” vampires in cinema, but I don’t think vampires have ever gone out of vogue because of it. Right after that franchise came to a close, we got the ridiculous and hence, insanely entertaining Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter. Kiss of the Damned was pretty interesting. I consider Afflicted to be one of the most realistic depictions of vampirism. Then there was What We Do in the Shadows, which spun off into a whole franchise. Doctor Sleep’s vampires were not like the regular ones, but they were quite spine-chilling. Blood Red Sky pitted a vampire against terrorists in a plane, and I don’t know how you cannot be excited by that concept. Day Shift commented on the gentrification of Los Angeles through the lens of vampirism. The Invitation capitalized on the success of Get Out and Ready or Not and then added vampires into the mix. El Conde took a bold swing by portraying the real-life Chilean dictator, Augusto Pinochet, as a vampire. In 2024, we got a three-course bloody meal in the form of Abigail, Nosferatu, and Sister Midnight. This year, we had Sinners, which was a box-office and critical success, and now we have The Time That Remains. How does it fare in comparison to its blood-sucking peers? Let’s find out.
Adolfo Borinaga Alix Jr.’s The Time That Remains, which he has co-written with Mixkaela Villalon and Jerry Gracio, tells the story of Lilia, an elderly woman who is admitted to the hospital after a bunch of thieves broke into her house and shot her in the abdomen. While recuperating there, Lilia forms a sweet bond with a nurse named Isabela, who tries to learn a thing or two about her. Lilia says that the young man who comes to visit her often is her boyfriend, Matias. While surviving the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, she met Matias, and she reveals to Isabela that he has the ability to turn into a cat. Due to the preposterousness of this tale, Isabela describes Lilia as a frail old woman who is gradually losing her mind. That said, from the perspective of Police Officer Angua, Lilia is the key to solving the case of a serial killer that he has been pursuing for ages. Over the years, he has gathered enough evidence to prove that while Lilia might be a regular human being, her boyfriend, who hasn’t aged in the past few decades, is something else. That puts Matias at a crossroads; he can either choose to go on the run in an attempt to thwart Angua, or he can stay by his lover’s side as she potentially takes her last breaths.
Since I started off this review by mentioning Twilight, I have to say that there are some uncomfortable similarities between Renesmee and Jacob’s bond and the one between Lilia and Matias. Sure, the note that their relationship ends on is profound, and it motivates Isabela, a person who had lost faith in the concept of romance, to believe in love once again. But the bedrock of Lilia and Matias’s love story—well, that and the rape revenge subplot—is problematic. Thankfully, The Time That Remains isn’t just limited to that. It uses vampirism to comment on Spanish colonialism and its harmful effects on the Philippines. While showing the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, that same vampirism is treated as a tool for retaliation and rebellion. In the modern-day part of the plot, the line between drug peddlers and vampires is literally blurred, probably in order to critique the older generation’s outdated views and inability to accept change. And on top of all that, the movie is mixing traditional vampire lore with that of the aswang. Now, have Adolfo and his co-writers done a decent job of handling all of these topics in a cohesive manner? No; it’s pretty rough. Is the ambition admirable, though? Absolutely, yes.
Unlike the Twilight movies, The Time That Remains moves pretty slowly. The pacing is borderline glacial. Hence, it runs the risk of exposing some of the cracks in Adolfo’s storytelling. However, that’s where Mark Victor’s editing, Allen Roy Santos’ sound design, the score by Paul Sigua and Myka Magsaysay-Sigua, Odyssey Flores’ cinematography, the production design by Jerann Ordinario and Maria Criselda Dacanay, Dennis Pendilla’s art direction, the SFX, and the VFX come into play and smoothen the viewing experience. The crew fully commits to the task of creating this haunting, gothic atmosphere where the act of taking each breath feels like an uphill battle. They create such an oppressive environment that the unwavering light emitting from Lilia and Matias’ romance burns brightly. In doing so, Adolfo subtly underscores his film’s message that eternal life doesn’t guarantee contentment; it’s the finiteness of it all that makes it valuable. And that’s beautiful, which is why I think that the script of the film should have been left in the oven for a little longer. You can have an immensely talented group of artists at your disposal. You can have genre-bending ideas. But if the screenplay is undercooked, then there’s a chance that the overall viewing experience might end up being forgettable.
When it comes to the performances in The Time That Remains, most of the heavy lifting is done by Beauty Gonzalez and Bing Pimentel. Speaking of Beauty, it’s truly amazing that she is in a genre-defining vampire movie like this, and last year, she was in the genre-defying zombie flick, Outside, which is on Netflix too, and you should definitely check it out. She should maintain this streak with a werewolf film, if she hasn’t done one already, and complete the horror classic trifecta. Carlo Aquino is great during the phase where he’s a warrior dealing with vampirism; it’s during the subtler moments where he falters. Jasmine Curtis-Smith, Cristine Reyes, Rita Avila, Allan Paule, Bembol Roco, Mark Herras, and the rest of the supporting cast are pretty good. They are all quite talented; it’s just that the material they are working with has not been polished to perfection. Is the movie worth a watch, though? Yes, absolutely. If you are a fan of vampire films, I think you’ll find shades of Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror and Twilight. You’ll get a history lesson on the Philippines. And, at the end of the ordeal, you’ll probably find yourself reflecting on the finiteness of life, love, and more. It’s not a great film by any measure, but it’s good enough to bolster the Filipino horror landscape.
