A good year for women on film, as exemplified in new releases The Eyes of My Mother, Miss Sloane, and more
Matthew Lickona 5 p.m., Dec. 9
An outstanding noir — sort of a Filipino Fargo without the cheerful black humor — wherein the stink of moral sewage is rivaled only by the stench of desperation. Marlon Villar has a sick wife and a crappy job as a driver for a (very) dirty congressman. He also has a daughter with whom he prays — but what he prays for is not a clean heart and an upright spirit. Writer-director Ron Morales sends our allegiances spinning through a festering wound of a world, and keeps the camera rolling as he scrapes away layer after layer of rot. But he does so without bombast, and with the frank admission that morality is often a matter of what kinds of corruption we will or will not tolerate. Everybody's bad, but some people are worse, and a few want to be better than they are. With Arnold Reyes, Menggie Cobarrubias. 2012.