Except, there is no way to be prepared. ‘The Hows of Us’ is squarely designed to rip hearts apart right from the opening frames. Far from the emotional wreckage it delivers, this tribute to adamant love affairs somehow finds a way to build beautifully choreographed barters between the dreamy and sweet moments of auspicious romance and the inevitable days of struggle to keep the flame alive. In the film, George (Kathryn Bernardo) and Primo (Daniel Padilla) are young sweethearts with long-term plans. Their love story–initially told in flashbacks–blossoms under the same roof George’s ‘Tita Lola’ (Susan Africa) willingly lends them. Throughout this period of living together, George and Primo’s story is condensed into a montage of planning and dreaming together for their future. The course proves to be exciting. But like in every relationship, difficult days arrive. To George and Primo, the worst of those days would mean they have to finally part ways. What ‘The Hows of Us‘ feels like is a collection of songs teeming with lines that speak both the sweet and bitter truths of being in love, each verse comfortably fitting into the mold of traditional Star Cinema romcom. Naturally, the lack of inventiveness threatens even an emotionally adequate narrative, but in the film, the stubborn formula is anchored upon a very reliable linchpin: a combination of great actors and an insightful take on an extremely commonplace storyline. Padilla and Bernardo have never been better before in their performances here, their combined artistic efforts allowing their story to acquire a more absorbing power. As a tearjerker, ‘The Hows of Us’ creates a lasting emotional impact, and to the film’s credit, it quite earns the tears. Finding its place on the very same territory where the likes of ‘One More Chance’ and ‘Starting Over Again’ made their mark, the film dances in between the progressing levels of a bittersweet romance. It works on a particular frequency that is obviously primed to elicit tears, but the effort is hardly offensive to encourage distaste. Molina lends the story a self-conscious quality in Primo and George’s journey as a young couple trying to save their relationship and themselves from the ruins of their respective personal disasters, only to get tainted by some unnecessarily long filler scenes that are practically mainly employed for visual purposes. Kathryn Bernardo brings a very visible and compelling conviction as the emotionally betrayed and embittered, George. Bernardo plays a vital part in the film’s palpable effort to impart mature elements to a stubborn formula, and through her evident invesment, the film actually succeeds doing so. In her previous films, Kathryn already offered glimpses of her ability as an actress, some of which already too powerful to make her memorable. Here, she completely bares the entire array of her rare capacity to meander across varying intensities of a practically same emotion. George is undoubtedly her most remarkable performance as an actress. Daniel Padilla clings on practically the same level of restraint, but with a more affecting charismatic presence. Like his singular portrayal as Ely in the Olivia Lamasan-helmed ‘Barcelona: A Love Untold’, he gives Primo an unmistakable confidence to convincingly tread through the tender and rough moments of the character. There is an initial rejection of the idea to dive into the depths of Primo, with subsequent proceedings conveniently suggesting he deserves the blame. But towards the film’s resolution, the film plunges headfirst to the character’s depth, giving it its sort of redeeming moment, which Daniel Padilla breathlessly pulled off with a heart-crippling resonance. Even with all its shortcomings and tight adherence to the conventional, there is a distinctive feature in ‘The Hows of Us’ that makes the idea of pulling off this kind of romantic drama, over and over again, irresistibly appealing. It’s a bruised practice of its kind but that’s exactly what makes it extremely relatable. The film, on the whole, is a brutal scrutiny of relationships and how personal dreams can either destroy or make them. The brutality wouldn’t need to be excused, because by the time the closing credits roll, it wouldn’t be difficult to admit that the pain is necessary for the film to get all its beautiful, albeit painful, truths across. The new KathNiel film may be outright manipulative, but the tears are coming from a valid place.
