MANILA – Can Mike Sandejas recreate the same waves he made last year with his semi-biographical Tulad Nang Dati with his new film Dinig Sana Kita?

For someone who have seen and marveled at the former and was contemplating whether seeing the latter in a crowded theater house is worth it, the response could be an immediate ‘No.’
 
The plot seemed typical: rocker Nina (Zoe Sandejas) meets deaf person Kiko (Romalito Mallari), overcome their differences, fell in love and live happily ever after. However, the story came out as a welcome surprise as it built more on the individuality of each characters rather than the romance.

While she can be a war freak, literally jumping on to anyone who messes with her, Nina is not just your typical rebellious rock star. She actually followed house rules (though sometimes resorting to bribing maids to sneak out). Kiko, on the other hand, is one of the facilitators in a school for the deaf. Nice, pleasant, easy to talk to, he was abandoned by his parents when he was still a child.
 
As the characters dealt with their respective situations in their own unique ways, viewers are also introduced to the deaf community and their struggles. The deaf are portrayed not as piteous creatures but as teens who know how to live and enjoy being different. They actively engage in team building activities, they go clubbing, they act and dance and they can hear music through vibrations on walls and floors.

One just had to wonder and be amazed at how they managed to express strong emotions such as excitement (in seeing an old mentor) or anger (at being left behind by a trusted leader) through sign languages.
 
Dinig Sana Kita proved to be completely different from Sandejas’s first film. While Tulad Nang Dati was more visually compelling, Dinig Sana Kita banked more on the story and the development of the characters. It’s not just Jet Pangan and his nostalgic wanderings; it’s about Nina wanting to be heard and Kiko seeking a home.

Dinig Sana Kita is not about the ups and downs of band life but of restlessness of the young, of being different, of belonging, of being wanted and loved.
 
And it ditches the sappiness, thank God. You don’t hear Nina doing the traditional you-don’t-understand-me-so-the-hell-with-everything lines but there’s a detachment in the way Zoe acts that any misunderstood youth could easily relate to.

The treatment is light and funny, and it gives off that warm feeling without going overboard. Each character leaves their respective marks in the scenes they are in and manages to either make viewers laugh so hard or leave them misty eyed with a lump in the throat.
 
Is it worth watching? Duh, of course it is. Two weeks after I’ve seen its initial premiere, the opening song Malaya is, not surprisingly, still stuck in my head.

A colleague said he began to like a certain band again after watching the film and kept on singing the ending song over and over and over again.