If you’re watching Jet Leyco’s Second Coming, make sure you stay after the film credits finish flashing onscreen. The new film has a brief post-credits scene that expounds on some of the themes it touched on in its story.
This post breaks down the post-credits scene in question and tries to make sense of what it means as an addendum to the film’s story of domestic horror.
Before I go on any further, however, I’d like to first point out that I will be referencing events in the film. If you want to come into Second Coming unspoiled, consider this your official warning to click out: major spoilers ahead.
Still here? O.K.
The “Second Coming” post-credits scene
The scene itself, like the film, is perplexing at first take. The events that occur in it, however, are straightforward.
We open with Bea (played by Jodi Sta. Maria) who finds Imee (Angelica Ulip) sat on the floor, drawing sketches of stick figures and Beefy, the unicorn plushie seen in the film. Bea tells her that they have set up an appointment to go to the doctor, presumably to ascertain her mental health after the film’s (very) traumatic events.
For context, the film reveals that though Imee’s mother, Raquel (Queenie Rehman), haunts them for vengeance, it was Paolo (Marvin Agustin) that was the greater evil.
Raquel didn’t haunt Bea out of jealousy or spite—at least not eventually—but to punish Paolo for being an abusive husband. It is revealed that Raquel and Paolo’s was an abusive relationship, and Raquel wanted out and died for it in a car accident.
To make things worse, Raquel had withdrawn what we can only assume a big chunk of cash out of the family account, and Paolo has been looking for it since the accident.
When Paolo finds the stash of cash, Paolo goes certifiably psycho and tries to kill his own daughter, Imee. This alerts Bea and crashes a hamster tank on Paolo’s head, allowing them to barely wiggle out of safety. This leads to an even bigger confrontation, which ultimately drives a knife on Paolo’s chest, immediately killing him.
That brings us back to the post-credits scene, in which Imee asks Bea about Berry, her hamster. Bea explains that Berry is no longer with them.
Apparently, the rodent had been a casualty of the confrontation as well. Okay then.
Imee seems to catch Bea’s drift, and asks: “Tita Bea, pwede po bang ikaw na lang po ‘yung sumama sa’kin dito?” Imee points to her drawings, which shows a picture of Imee and a woman in a red dress (Raquel). “Sabi po kasi sa’kin ni mommy dadalhin niya raw po ako rito. Pwede po bang ikaw na lang ang sumama sa’kin?”
The scene ends with a pile of Imee’s pictures depicting her own ideal version of a family, which includes Bea, Beefy the Unicorn, and Berry the Hamster.
It’s also worth noting that the actual credits that succeed this scene include a montage of hyper-stylized cryptic imagery of a forest and Berry. This movie won’t let you go.
What this means
The post-credits scene furthers the film’s perversion of our desire for this unattainable idea of family. At least that’s what I have taken away from it.
The key characters in Second Coming, are dead-set on having one. Paolo’s descent into madness, for instance, is predicated on the obsession of having a family that’s perfectly aligned with what to him an ideal family looks like.
The scene reveals that Raquel wants this, too, both while alive and as a ghost. In addition to avenging her life’s misery, she also longs to be with her daughter, even if it means to take her to the other side.
Bea, meanwhile, cautiously treads her relationship with Paolo and Imee. This is motivated by the fact that she is Paolo’s mistress. Though she’s fighting to keep her new family above-water, she’s constantly reminded to know her place.
Caught in this crossfire, of course, are the children. First, there’s Bea—used as an instrument to fulfill her parents’ individual desires. And then there’s Sophie, Bea’s daughter, who is literally killed in the midst of all of it.
I personally take the final moments of this scene as a sobering lecture on the fact that our children don’t want much. As parents, and on a more macro-level as a country, we are locking ourselves in a prison of our own failures. We succumb to it deeper and it festers into a fatal obsession, as what happens in Second Coming.
Though I have some quibbles on its writing, the themes Leyco touches on here are interesting and intriguing. There’s plenty to unpack, from the questionable naming scheme (Edralin, anyone?), the political subtext, to the film’s welcome feminist slant.
I think people should watch Second Coming if only so we can discuss the movie here.