"Kubrador" is done in the neorealist vein. Here's how Wikipedia.com defines neorealism in art:

Indeed, it recalls such films as "The Bicycle Thief," or more contemporarily, Abbas Kiarostami's "Where Is My Friend's Home," where we get to follow, literally and figuratively, a character, and witness a day or a few days of his life -- a snapshot of his life, as it were.

This is one of the hardest things to pull off in moviemaking because the filmmaker is always striving for the verisimilitude of life. One, for example, has to rein in actors who have the tendency to ham it up; or to transcend a clichéd script or dialogue. In this regard, the first couple of sequences is on shaky ground. The opening sequence for example has some stereotypical scenes and dialogue in the chase scene (e.g. a woman looking out of the window screaming or one of the characters falling in a bathroom where an old woman is taking a bath) and some of the acting is verging towards what I would call theater acting (this is not to disparage the theater, but a movie of course has a different set of aesthetic rules), but thankfully, the film regains its footing as the movie progresses and becomes more sure of itself. I'm not sure if Director Jeturian shot the film in sequence, but if he did, then this could be the explanation. Jeturian and his actors become more sure of themselves.

But perhaps another credible explanation could be found in the fact that the film uses professional and non-professional actors. I was talking to filmmaker JP Carpio about the film the other day who has himself used professional and non-professional actors, and he observed what often happens in such a setup (as initially observed by Cassavetes, I think), that the non-professional actors influence the professional actors and vice-versa, but the former doing so more than the latter. Which is great, because the film is pruned, as it were, of collective acting mannerisms gained throughout the years. In this case, the high point of this ensemble acting is the scene with the jueteng treasurer, whose character is superbly acted by Director Johnny Manahan. When I was watching the scene, I didn't know that it was Manahan -- because I'm only familiar with his name from sitcoms and TV shows which he directs -- and was pleasantly surprised during the credits to find out that it was him. Everyone I talked to afterwards has confirmed this observation about Manahan. At any rate, if ever there was a sequence which Director Jeturian should put in his resume or filmography which would best represent his works, or his skill in filmmaking, I think this is one of those scenes. The treasurer sequence is, in my opinion, one of the most perfect pieces of ensemble acting I have ever seen. I can only compare it to Mike Leigh's "Vera Drake," for example, in particular the living room scene where the family discusses the "injustice" of their beloved Drake's fate.

Other actors whose acting is impressive in this film is the late Elmo Redrico, who has the uncanny ability to transform himself into the character he's portraying, and at the same time make the character very sympathetic. In every film in which I saw him, he seemed to get better. (Many filmmakers I have to talked to since his passing have agreed, and have rued his untimely demise.)

Gina Pareéño, meanwhile, although I think a bit "too healthy" for the role, is consistently good throughout the movie, and is the anchor of the movie not just story-wise, but also acting-wise. Whenever the movie is in danger of losing us in a certain scene (which happens very seldom in this movie), we only to have look for her, to understand what's happening. Look for that scene with the grieving grandfather (played by Domingo Landicho), for example.

At any rate, the acting and the script, sure-footedly takes us not only into the lives of the characters but also into the subject of the movie, the world of jueteng. We get to understand how the illegal game operates, and get to see the lives of those involved without judgement on the storytellers' part. If there were, it's definitely not in the form of a moralistic wagging of finger, and it's for the most part, reserved for the politicians and powerful people who are only talked about in the movie and whose dark shadows lurk over every scene. The movie, though, is less a moral tale than a dissection of what ails our system and our nation. It is in this sense that the movie is uniquely Filipino.

And that is why, I think, the movie's ending was put there. Tacked on, according to one reviewer, which I tend to agree with a bit, but not totally out of place nonetheless. The scene recalls the Feliber Andres incident some years back in a similar setting, a comment perhaps on the collective psyche of Filipinos. However, I would have preferred a more organic ending, that is a finale which is an "inevitable" conclusion of the story. Be that as it may, "Kubrador" is a movie which succeeds in what it set out to achieve, that is, to depict as accurately as possible, and for the most part without judgement, the lives at the margins, and by doing so, provide a deeper insight into the bigger picture.