Serious and campy in equal parts, punctuated by a humor bordering on the acerbic and tongue-in-cheek, Moral poses questions to issues ranging from women's role in society at large to the decay of the traditional family unit.
Moral is the story of four friends who, despite their obvious differences in their outlook in life and taste on men, are characterized as strong women in their own right: Joey (Lorna Tolentino) is a liberal chick with a loose reputation; Kathy (Gina Alajar) is an off-key singer with delusions of grandeur; Sylvia (Sandy Andolong) is a single mother left by her husband for a male stripper; and Maritess (Anna Marin) is an ambitious woman forced to become a stay-home mom after getting pregnant out of wedlock.
'Bakit ang mga babae, di pwedeng maging promiscuous?'
Happy-go-lucky and seemingly without direction, Joey goes about gallivanting on a regular basis, for lack of a better term, sporting a junkie lifestyle and sleeping at night in different places, out to prove herself equal to, or better than, the opposite sex by never adopting a meek demeanor or embracing traditional female virtues.
The justification of her loose (or in feminist jargon, liberating?) habits is never fully explored in the film, except for the character's rather naive notion that doing what she is not socially allowed to do is the end rather than the means with which she can subvert the system. Sure, she joins workers' rallies, but only to see her crush (who years later dies a rebel). This kind of feminism spells a lot of pitfalls, including the futility of it all as it doesn't really present no new alternative other than reversal of gender roles, which in itself isn't really an alternative.
The film seems to realize this when, fast-forward to Joey's near-death experience following an abortion procedure, she wakes up alive and well, thanks to the expertise of a male doctor. As if to stress the film's point even further, we learn later on that Joey is also infertile, a weird coincidence considering how she loathes children.
'Hi, Claire dela Fuente'
Kathy, on the other hand, just couldn't get it: She knows she can't belt out a tune without straining somebody else's eardrums, but with mindless disregard, she keeps going on. She dreams of hitting it big in showbiz, a goal she is dead-serious of accomplishing she is willing to do just about anything, even if it's at the rather extreme end.
Following an unsuccessful stint as social climber, she agrees to market herself, for instance, as a New Age artist spewing hippie pronouncements, dishing out sentences peppered with Krishnas and Jesus Christs. And for better deals, she sleeps around with men and women alike.
Kathy is the quintessential showbiz wannabe: wide-eyed and easily manipulated with a few promises of sure success, she allows herself to be used, both in the literal and commercial sense. This flippant, even predatory, nature of showbiz industry -- which gobbles up fresh non-talents and spits them out later when suddenly found useless -- is unfortunately as close to reality as it could get.
Kathy does realize later on that she can't sing, but by then the damage's been done already.
'Pakisabi sa kanya putangina niya'
On the surface, Sylvia is a tough, strong-willed woman who can juggle studies and raise a kid alone at the same time and still get through anything. We are, however, proven wrong: Apparently, she can't move on with her failed marriage, even when she finds out his ex is crazy to a lean, toned guy who gyrates in his undies for a living.
After the initial shock and disbelief dissipate, Sylvia allows herself to get to terms with the fact that her marriage is over. She befriends her ex's partner, a signal of acceptance to the kind of relationship that many consider taboo and unacceptable.
She moves on by bringing another guy to her bed. She seems content for a little while. But as with anything that seems to work great, her illusion of happiness is shattered when she finds out her new partner is the sweet-talking liar type, after which she concludes the relationship with a decisive cuss.
'Taun-taon niya lang akong binubuntis'
Leading a domestic life as a housewife isn't exactly what Maritess had in mind when she and her three other friends graduated from the University of the Philippines. So when she finds herself in that position, she is caught in a dilemma: Will she pursue her career goals or be a homemaker for her kids and husband? She realizes however it can't be one or the other, as if the two are exclusive and irreconcilable.
The notion of a traditional housewife is well-presented in Maritess' overbearing mother-in-law, who spent her life doing the traditional things expected of mothers: a life of cooking, laundry, raising kids, cleaning the home, and acting as sexual vessels to their husbands. Not that it's an entirely evil set-up, but this is a culture that is so deeply entrenched in our collective psyche, that to veer from it is weird at best and downright unacceptable at worst.
Sylvia's decision not to subscribe to this "ideal" sense of motherhood may have been met with fierce resistance from her husband, but ultimately she gets what she wants. This may not be the case for most women who choose not to question the socially accepted set-up or who don't have much choice to begin with, but it's a model to a relationship defined by consensus between those involved, not an assignment of roles based on the prevalent norms.
Calm turbulence
Marilou Diaz-Abaya's Moral, considered by many as feminist, is an acute portrayal of some of the most pressing issues women in the country face, whether at home or at work. Although espousing change, the film is never didactic at all. If anything, it makes the viewers think and ask questions for themselves and ultimately makes them wonder if beneath the calm surface everything is just fine.