2011: Philippine Shorts

2011: Philippine Shorts

Criminally overlooked perhaps because their commercial value is limited, short films are like really effective pick-up lines. Within a matter of a few carefully selected words, emotions are captured, leading to what the pick-upper hopes would be a night of satisfying orgasms (or delectable conversations, depending on the moral barometer of the suave pick-upper). Limited to a running time of less than an hour, short filmmakers have the daunting task of creating worlds, forwarding ideas, convincing cynics, and expressing long-repressed feelings, while establishing an aesthetic and motivation that would set them apart from other audio-visual campaigns.

Raya Martin’s Ars Colonia, which was commissioned by the Hubert Bals Fund, was shot in hi-8 analogue video. Starting with the image of the silhouette of what seems to be a Spanish conquistador backdropped by an a mountainous isle surrounded by raging sees, the film suddenly explodes in what is either a blazing battleground or a fireworks celebration (the dazzling visual of colors bursting resulted from Martin drawing over the actual film with markers of various colors). Also shot in analogue film, Gym Lumbera and Timmy Harn’s Class Picture features various schoolchildren whose yearly class photographs are being taken in the beach. The film, beautifully faded like a memory stored for decades and suddenly rediscovered, evokes the fragile pleasures of reminiscence. Martin’s Ars Colonia, Lumbera and Harn’s Class Picture, and Shireen Seno’s Big Boy has turned analogue film into time machines, transporting viewers to places and events remembered from a respectable distance.

Jon Lazam’s Hindi sa Atin ang Buwan (The Moon is Not Ours) was filmed from a consumer-level video camera. A sequence of images of travel connected by ingenious editing (at one point, the moon bursts into fireworks before putting the audience within the alienated safety of the interior of a taxi with the unnamed protagonist in a moment of longing), the short converts the randomness of vacation shoots into a document of the heartbreak of distance, starting from rapid movements and ending in solemn quietude, as if to visualize what a sigh of romantic ache would sound in a silent film.

In Walang Katapusang Kwarto (The Endless Room), Emerson Reyes mercilessly focuses on the faces of his two outstanding actors (Sheenly Gener and Max Celada) who portray two lovers wasting idle time after what is presumed to be a bout of intense lovemaking. By invading the private spaces of his performers, Reyes concocts a document of voyeurism, where the audience takes intense pleasure in listening to the humorous banter of two persons engaged in an illicit relationship, the same way these two persons take intense pleasure in invading into the private lives of their neighbors, who we will only know through the way they shut their doors.

Filmmaker Jerrold Tarog was commissioned by an advocacy foundation to create a documentary on the Agusan Marshlands, an area in Mindanao that is famed for its various animal and plant life. Neither familiar nor armed with any emotional attachment with the place, he conceived the assignment as an adventure, seen from the eyes of his avatar, Gaby dela Merced. The result is Agusan Marsh Diaries, a delightful documentary that could have been just another tourism ad but ended up as an experience like no other. Unlike Tarog, Cierlito Tabay and Moreno Benigno do not have the task of reinventing the wheel. Undo is a documentary like any other. The only difference here is that Tabay and Benigno’s subject, an artist whose drug addiction is funded by his art and whose art is fuelled by his drug addiction, is more than enough to carry the film. Knowing this, Tabay and Benigno fills the minutes with only the subject, drowning it with his art, his life, even his music.

The stories and messages conveyed by the short films released in 2011 are all diverse. Their methods of conveyance are to say the least, intriguing. From Marianito Dio, Jr.’s Sarong Aldaw (One Day), which tells the all-too-familiar tale of young man leaving the provinces for Manila with immense lyricism, to John Torres’ Mapang-akit, which recounts from visual and aural textures of salvaged footage from another film the tale of a man who is seduced by an aswang, to Chuck Hipol’s Man of the House, which conveys the skewed image of the perfect Filipino through the ads that these families consume, to Nica Santiago’s Awit ni Maria (Song of Maria), a gorgeous tale of a man who falls for a prostitute and lives that admiration through the music he imagines for her, to Jason Paul Laxamana’s Timawa (Free Man), which weaves together fashion photography, filmmaking, impossibly beautiful people and the theme of marital infidelity to come up with a comedy with Lynchian awkwardness, these shorts are not limited by the stories they attempt to tell. Instead, they create stories from the way they tell stories, adding layers upon layers, creating a treasure trove of information within the very short span of mixing creativity, indulgences and everything else that make films more than just a succession of moving images.

Below are eleven notable shorts released and seen in 2011:

1. Ars Colonia (Raya Martin)
2. Hindi sa Atin ang Buwan (The Moon is not Ours, Jon Lazam)
3. Mapang-akit (John Torres) 
4. Class Picture (Gym Lumbera & Timmy Harn)
5. Walang Katapusang Kwarto (Endless Room, Emerson Reyes)
6. Sarong Aldaw (One Day, Marianito Dio, Jr.)
7. Undo (Cierlito Tabay & Moreno Benigno)
8. Awit ni Maria (Song of Maria, Nica Santiago)
9. Man of the House (Chuck Hipol)
10. Agusan Marsh Diaries (Jerrold Tarog)
11. Timawa (Free Man, Jason Paul Laxamana)

2010: Philippine Cinema

John Torres' Ang Ninanais

2010: Highlights in Film

The year 2010, much more than anything, exposed the many faults of the so-called Philippine cinema that have gone unnoticed because of the deafening attention, whether good or bad, foreigners are giving individual films that showed prominently in major international film festivals like Cannes and Venice the year before. Given that there was hardly any Filipino-made film that made waves abroad this year; it certainly felt like the world has grown tired of the country’s poverty and other problems. Yet most filmmakers, starving for international attention which is not unexpected since that kind of attention is the only attention that will assure a lifetime of making films, adhere to formula: slums, social relevance, day-in-the-life, and guilt-ridding.

This year’s edition of Cinemalaya, perhaps the country’s most prominent producer of films targeted for international screening, is underwhelming not because of the poor quality of the films, but because only a few of the films showed any authorial voice. It seems that in its quest for films and filmmakers that could make it big in the international scene, it mutated into a manufacturing plant that produces films of the exact same feel and intent instead of a community that fosters independent creativity. In other words, this year’s edition of Cinemalaya, as compared to last year’s, felt like penance. The film’s that stood out are the ones that didn’t feel like they belonged to the selection: Mario O’Hara’s Ang Paglilitis ni Andres Bonifacio (The Trial of Andres Bonifacio), which features the veteran director struggling with the digital medium but nevertheless coming up with a masterpiece whose audaciousness cannot be belittled, Teng Mangansakan’s Limbunan (Bridal Quarter), a flawed yet gorgeous gem of a film that quietly observes a woman submit herself to tradition, Dennis Marasigan’s Vox Populi, a confidently helmed document of the birth of evil in politics.

CinemaOne, on the other hand, had films that were heavy on authorial voice but are either confused or lacked in technical proficiency. The clear masterpiece of the bunch is Remton Zuasola’s Ang Damgo ni Eleuteria (The Dream of Eleuteria), a very human portrait of a woman about to leave her home town and her dreams to fulfill the dreams of her family.

Thus, the Philippines’ best films mostly came from filmmakers who made their films independent of Cinemalaya or CinemaOne. Khavn dela Cruz, who finally finished the surprisingly exquisitely crafted Mondomanila, a project that has been brewing for more than a decade, also produced and directed Cameroon Love Letter (for Solo Piano) and Son of God, two films of different natures and intentions but reflected a filmmaker who is very certain of his voice. Monster Jimenez’s Kano: An American and his Harem, another project that has seen many years in production, is miraculous simply for portraying a pervert with such humanity. Jerrold Tarog’s Senior Year is entertaining, endearing, and utterly poignant for its reflection on how the promise of our youth seems so distant in our disappointing adulthood.

Perhaps the most surprising Filipino films of the year came from the unabashed churner of fragrant garbage, Star Cinema. My Amnesia Girl showed Cathy Garcia-Molina mastering the art (yes, art) of creating fluff. RPG Metanoia showed how Filipino animators, given proper attention and motivation, can create something that can be at par if not outdo their counterparts in Hollywood. Sa’yo Lamang showed Laurice Guillen creating a family melodrama that is pious but sinful, formulaic but refreshing.

If there’s anything that 2010 should remind us, it is that international appeal, while always welcome especially in the free promotion it gives locally-produced cinema to viewers in the Philippines, is not the only barometer of quality. It should never be the basis as to why one watches or makes films. Reality is becoming overrated, and filmmakers, much more than mere tellers of stories should start learning to become makers of stories, whether these stories are taken from real-life experiences or not. If one is to learn from David Fincher's The Social Network, arguably the most successful American film from 2010, truth is not the most cinematic element of true stories, it is usually what independent imagination can come up with that truth.

Now, to the list:

Top 15 Filipino Films of 2010

1) Ang Paglilitis ni Andres Bonifacio (The Trial of Andres Bonifacio, Mario O'Hara)

2) Ang Ninanais (Refrains Happen Like Revolutions in a Song, John Torres)

3) Kano: An American and His Harem (Monster Jimenez)

4) Ang Damgo ni Eleuteria (The Dream of Eleuteria, Remton Zuasola)

5) Mondomanila (Khavn dela Cruz)

6) Senior Year (Jerrold Tarog)

7) Son of God (Khavn dela Cruz & Michael Noer)

8) Cameroon Love Letter (for Solo Piano) (Khavn dela Cruz)

9) Limbunan (Bridal Quarter, Teng Mangansakan)

10) RPG Metanoia (Luis Suarez)

11) Vox Populi (Dennis Marasigan)

12) My Amnesia Girl (Cathy Garcia-Molina)

13) Donor (Mark Meily)

14) Here Comes the Bride (Chris Martinez)

15) Sa'yo Lamang (Laurice Guillen)

2009: Highlights in Film

Raya Martin's Independencia

2009: Highlights in Film

2009 has been both kind and cruel to Philippine cinema. As we celebrate the numerous recognitions Filipino films are getting from beyond Philippine shores (Brillante Mendoza winning Best Director in Cannes for Kinatay (The Execution of P) with Raya Martin's Independencia (which is the second Filipino film, after Mendoza's Serbis (Service) in 2008, to be featured in the prestigious New York Film Festival) and Manila (co-directed with Adolfo Alix, Jr.) also premiering in the film festival; Pepe Diokno's Engkwentro (Clash) winning the Luigi de Laurentiis Award and the Orrizonti Prize in Venice, where Mendoza's Lola (Grandmother) premiered in the main competition of the film festival; Pusan and Thessaloniki putting the spotlight on Philippine cinema, concentrating on the diverse output of the new wave of directors from the vibrant independent scene; Vienna holding a retrospective of Lino Brocka's works; among many others), we mourn the untimely passing of the heroes of Philippine cinema: Alexis Tioseco, a great critic who championed Southeast Asian, and more specifically Philippine cinema, concentrating on the films of the Diaz, Martin, and John Torres, whose works he dearly loved, with endless passion; and Johnny Delgado, a great actor whose collaborations with almost all of the country's great filmmakers (Brocka, Mike De Leon, Gerry De Leon, Laurice Guillen, and Celso A. Castillo), make up a portion of this country's vibrant cinema.

2009 also saw the continuation of what ails our cinema: an unimaginative mainstream (although I must admit that Chito Rono's T2, the first half of which is quite intriguing, Olive Lamasan's In My Life, a baby step for the mainstream to embrace gay cinema (as opposed to the banal comedies of Joel Lamangan that merely re-echoed the stereotypes of homosexuality from past decades with contemporary idiocy), and Laurice Guillen's I Love You, Goodbye, a fine film except that it ended illogically, were minor delights), and local film distributors that favor brainless blockbusters (Michael Bay's Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and Chris Weitz's New Moon) to quality imports (although the latter part of the year saw the surprising commercial release of Werner Herzog's The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans, James Gray's Two Lovers, Quentin Tarantino's Inglorious Basterds and Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox). Despite that, the year saw the continuation of what gives us hope in our cinema: Cinemalaya, despite my apprehensions to its raison d'etre of independence through creative compromise, had a roster of good to great products (Alvin Yapan's Ang Panggagahasa Kay Fe (The Rapture of Fe), Veronica Velasco's Last Supper No. 3, Borgy Torre's charming short Bonsai); Cinemanila, apart from showcasing the best films from around the world (including Christopher Chong's Karaoke, Sergei Dvortsevoy's Tulpan and Tomas Alfredson's Let the Right One In), saw the premieres of Raymond Red's Himpapawid (Manila Skies), his first film since winning the Palm D'Or for his short film Anino (Shadows), Christopher Gozum's Anacbanua (Child of the Sun), and Armando Lao's Biyaheng Lupa (Soliloquy), and CinemaOne, despite my problem with the festival's treatment of its director's property rights with regards their films, which produced its sole masterpiece, Ray Gibraltar's Wanted: Border.

One can only hope for better things for 2010: with filmmakers getting their due respect, not only in terms of recognition but also basic sustenance (it pains me to see these filmmakers struggling to pay off debts incurred for the sole reason of advancing this country's cinematic culture); with our audience actually watching the films that have garnered worldwide fanfare instead of simply reading about them from obscure press releases in several broadsheets; with more film lovers writing about our cinema, giving room to responsible discourse about our films. Now, on to the lists:

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Werner Herzog's The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans

Top 10 Foreign Films Released in 2009

1) The Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call - New Orleans (Werner Herzog)
2) Two Lovers (James Gray)
3) Ponyo (Hayao Miyazaki)
4) Karaoke (Christopher Chong)
5) Let the Right One In (Tomas Alfredson)
6) Fantastic Mr. Fox (Wes Anderson)
7) Public Enemies (Michael Mann)
8) Tulpan (Sergei Dvortsevoy)
9) Inglorious Basterds (Quentin Tarantino)
10) Drag Me To Hell (Sam Raimi)

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Christopher Gozum's Anacbanua

Top 10 Filipino Films Released in 2009

1) Independencia (Raya Martin)
2) Kinatay (The Execution of P, Brillante Mendoza)
3) Wanted: Border (Ray Gibraltar)
4) Anacbanua (Child of the Sun, Christopher Gozum)
5) Lupang Hinarang (Hindered Land, Ditsi Carolino)
6) Himpapawid (Manila Skies, Raymond Red)
7) Walang Alaala ang mga Paru-paro (Butterflies Have No Memories, Lav Diaz)
8) Ang Panggagahasa Kay Fe (The Rapture of Fe, Alvin Yapan)
9) Last Supper No. 3 (Veronica Velasco)
10) Kimmy Dora (Joyce Bernal)

*****


Raymond Red's Ang Magpakailanman

Top 5 Older Filipino Films Seen for the First Time in 2009

1) Pagdating sa Dulo (At the Top, Ishmael Bernal, 1971)
2) Bakit Dilaw ang Gitna ng Bahaghari? (Why is Yellow the Middle of the Rainbow?, Kidlat Tahimik, 1994)
3) Bontoc Eulogy (Marlon Fuentes, 1995)
4) Ang Magpakailanman (The Eternity, Raymond Red, 1982)
5) Kagat ng Dilim (Dark Bites, Cesar Hernando, 2006)

(Cross-published in Senses of Cinema, 2009 World Poll)

Cinematic Highlights of 2007

Lav Diaz's Death in the Land of Encantos

Cinematic Highlights of 2007

What better way for a film lover to celebrate the coming of 2008 than to give due recognition to the brilliant films that were released the past year. Living in the Philippines, where the censors are both cruel and stupid and the distributors are tardy or entirely negligent in releasing their gems (like P. T. Anderson's There Will Be Blood, Tim Burton's Sweeney Todd, Julian Schnabel's The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Sean Penn's Into the Wild, among other widely released favorites), has made it very difficult to make a comprehensive list of cinematic highlights. More obscure titles (like Eric Rohmer's Romance of Astrea and Celadon or Carlos Reygadas' Silent Light, again, among many other arthouse favorites) will most likely never reach these shores.

The ones that were shown here (through commercial runs, or the several film festivals, or DVD's) were weeded out, and to my surprise, there were very few disappointments (like Zack Snyder's culturally callous 300, Michael Bay's overlong and overly jerky Transformers, and David Slade's witless 30 Days of Night) and numerous pleasant surprises (like Sam Raimi's whimsical Spider-Man 3, Kevin Lima's enchantingly romantic Enchanted, Bard Bird's deliciously wonderful Ratatouille, Judd Apatow's touching Knocked Up and Greg Mottola's hilarious Superbad). The crop of films from the Cinemanila International Film Festival (Fatih Akin's The Edge of Heaven, Julie Delpy's 2 Days in Paris, Anton Corbijn's Control, and the grindhouse flicks from Quentin Tarantino's personal collection (Eddie Romero's The Ravagers (1965), a Pacific war flick in dire need of a reassessment and Cirio Santiago's The Muthers (1976), the quintessential female pirates cum women-in-prison exploitation flick)) do not disappoint.

On the other hand, there was definitely no shortage in quality when it came to local filmmaking talents. While the mainstream is still struggling in its self-imposed quagmire of uninspired moviemaking, the independent scene is brimming with talent, releasing various films that arouse intellectual discourse wherever and whenever they are shown (like Jim Libiran's Tribu, a valiant although imperfect effort in documenting the gang subculture evolving in Tondo, Dennis Marasigan's Tukso (Temptation), a Rashomon-like whodunit that subtly tackles the moral corruption that accompanies the real estate boom, Rico Maria Ilarde's Altar, a definite step-forward for horror auteur Ilarde, Brillante Mendoza's Foster Child, a lazilly crafted but still engrossing docu-drama on the state of foster parenting in the country, and Khavn dela Cruz's 3 Days of Darkness, the director's personal "fuck you" to the brainless horror films the mainstream is thriving on).

For my yearender list, I thought it best to separate Filipino and foreign films. As with all other lists, mine doesn't have the pretense of being comprehensive or peerless (and will most likely be a work in progress). It is also highly personal, subjective and will obviously lack the films that I have not seen (thus, if you don't find the film you love here, it is either I have not seen it or I don't find it noteworthy). And now the lists:

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Cristian Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks, and 2 Days

Top 5 Foreign Films Released in 2007

1) 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (Cristian Mungiu)
2) Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg)
3) We Own the Night (James Gray)
4) Zodiac (David Fincher)
5) Ploy (Pen-ek Ratanaruang)

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Satyajit Ray's Jalsaghar

Top 5 Older Foreign Films Seen for the First Time

1) The Adventures of Prince Achmed (Lotte Reiniger, 1926)
2) Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (F. W. Murnau, 1927)
3) Jalsaghar (The Music Room, Satyajit Ray, 1958)
4) Trial of Joan of Arc (Robert Bresson, 1962)
5) Syndromes and a Century (Apichatpong Weerasethakul, 2006)

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Jade Castro's Endo

Top 5 Filipino Films Released in 2007

1) Kagadanan sa banwaan ning mga Engkanto (Death in the Land of Encantos, Lav Diaz)
2) Autohystoria (Raya Martin)
3) Voices, Tilted Screens and Extended Scenes of Loneliness: Filipinos in High Definition (John Torres)
4) Endo (Jade Castro)
5) Confessional (Jerrold Tarog & Ruel Dahis Antipuesto)

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Kidlat Tahimik's Perfumed Nightmare

Top 5 Older Filipino Films Seen for the First Time

1) Bedspacers (Joey Gosiengfiao, 1980)
2) 48 Oras (48 Hours, Gerardo de Leon, 1950)
3) Burlesk Queen (Burlesque Queen, Celso Ad. Castillo, 1977)
4) Mababangong Bangungot (Perfumed Nightmare, Kidlat Tahimik, 1977)
5) Huling Balyan ng Buhi (Woven Stories of the Other, Sherad Anthony Sanchez, 2006)

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Cigarettes, Cues and Cinema: Filipino Shorts of 2007

Raymond Red's Anino (Shadow)

Over the years, there have been plenty of Filipino films that have screened in Cannes including Lino Brocka's Insiang (1976) and Jaguar (1979), Mario O'Hara's Babae sa Breakwater (Woman of the Breakwater, 2004) and Brillante Mendoza's Foster Child (2007). However, there has only been one Filipino film that has won an award from the prestigious film festival. That film, recipient of the Palme d'Or for Short Film in 2000, is Raymond Red's Anino (Shadow, 2000), a short film that details the encounters of an unlucky photographer in Manila. The short film, then thought of as inferior to the full-length feature, has finally gained respect and attention in the country. Moreover, the advent of digital video has made it much easier for filmmakers to experiment with the medium. The result is an influx of short film works, mostly from students of the many film schools scattered around the archipelago. The problem is to separate the bad from the good and from there, pick out works that are truly excellent. The many independent film festivals like Cinemalaya and Cinemanila has made the job easier by selecting a number of short films for screening or competition. Of course, there will always be undiscovered gems floating around in cyberspace or screening in some undisclosed viewing area. The short films reviewed are the ones I have had the opportunity to watch, mostly in this year's Cinemalaya Film Festival held in the Cultural Center of the Philippines.

Jerrold Tarog's Carpool won a short film competition held in the nation's cultural center in Manila. The story is mundane, perhaps inconsequential. Three girls, friends from high school up to college, are finally reuniting after an alleged boyfriend-snatching that ensued between two of them. Tarog sets his audience up with what seems like a banal in-car discussion of hurt feelings, juvenile romances and harsh betrayals. The setup is all too familiar; the reveal even more so in an off-putting, completely understandable and ultimately humorous way. The victim of the boyfriend-snatching has got everything wrong. Her fury should have been directed to the person she entrusted with her fiery private outbursts. It's classic comedy of errors, a mini-network film where characters aren't separated by cultural and geographic divides but by petty quarrels and one undisclosed yet vital information.


Tara Illenberger's Durog

The 2007 version of Cinemalaya has ten short films in competition. Included are Vic Acedillo Jr.'s Toni, a tale of a solitary boy finding unlikely friendship with a statue of the Santo Nino, Hubert Tibi's Maikling Kwento (Short Story), another tale of friendship between two kids, an enterprising Chinese and a Filipino, editor-turned-director Tara Illenberger's Durog, which details a druggie's exploration of mysterious shrooms that blur fantasy and reality, future and present, and Peque Gallaga-protege Lawrence Fajardo's Liwanag sa Dilim (Light in the Darkness), an exercise in stylistics while tackling the pitfalls of drug addiction. I was neither moved not offended by the entries. The short films were shown and ultimately forgotten. These concepts definitely looked better in paper.

Mark dela Cruz's Misteryo ng Hapis (Sorrowful Mystery) is easily the most well-made of the bunch. Set during the pa-siyam (the traditional nine days after the death of a loved one spent praying novenas), Misteryo ng Hapis is about a stage performer (Andoy Ranay) suffering through bouts of painful flashbacks of his hard life growing up as a homosexual in a strict Catholic household. Clearly, dela Cruz goes for atmosphere. Candle-lit interiors, theatric gestures, silent cries, and neverending prayers repeated with mantra-like dedication by the devout converge to detail a near-claustrophobic repression of sexuality dealt by adherence to the Catholic faith. The end, where Ranay goes on stage and performs, is a much-deserved release. Dela Cruz's sincerity is undoubtable but his embellishments could have been minimized; there's too much make-up in this gay film.

On the other hand, Tagapagligtas (Protector), Maria Solita Garcia's entry about an abortionist in Manila's most famous church district, has all the embellishments without Dela Cruz's onscreen sincerity. It's a heavyhandedly executed morality play, packing the valuable minutes with every abortion-related cliche conceivable. Emmanuel dela Cruz's Gabon (Cloud), like Misteryo ng Hapis, is set during the time of mourning. A Moro girl enters her classroom, and the rest of the students react to a mysterious stench. Two elderly Moro enter the room; one starts singing a native folk song, supposedly to appease the girl, who we find out is a spirit who continues her ambition to finish schooling despite her death. The short is heartfelt and sensitive. While it hints of politics (Dela Cruz's quaint visuals arbitrarily morph into what looks like black and white security cam footage, hinting of a connection to the government's military efforts in Mindanao pursuant to the so-called war on terrorism), the short doesn't attempt to push the envelope.


Nisha Alicer, Caren Crisologo and Nix Lañas' Doble Vista

Nisha Alicer, Caren Crisologo and Nix Lañas' Doble Vista, about a writer (Jake Macapagal) still in love with his muse (Lily Chu), is the audience award winner of the film festival. For the uninitiated, the short feels like a commercial for cigarettes (I remember one commercial where the token male lead jumps from one scene to another without any logical explanation). The filmmakers explain that the short is a serious product of their adherence to Godard's counter-cinema. The short, however, betrays their lofty ambitions. Instead of really countering the conventions of commercial contemporary Filipino cinema, the film feels like an consolidation of several popular influences (the cigarette-wielding writer is spirited away from Tony Leung's persona in Wong Kar-wai's In the Mood for Love (2000), the jazzy rhythm from early Godard (or worse, Godard's numerous inferior advocates), the video-essay on death and cigarettes from de-intellectualized Chris Marker, same actor (Art Alicer) recurring in varying roles in what seems to be an attempt at surrealism from Luis Bunuel). It's unfortunate really, as the three filmmakers are great technicians (the writing is current, the editing is precise, the cinematography is wonderful given the restrictions of the digital format) and young; they will inevitably find their own voice, and will inevitably forget the counter-cinema excuse, something I believe has lost much of its meaning especially in an international film culture that has branched into so many categories.

The most fun short film is Enrico Aragon's Nineball, winner of the jury prize. It is rude, crass, yet absolutely hilarious. It first pokes fun at the indefatigable relationship between Filipinos and the game of billiards (the success of billiards champions Efren 'Bata' Reyes, Django Bustamante and other Filipino greats has inspired jobless vagabonds to take up the pastime as supposed livelihood). The center point is an obsessed billiards aficionado, his face covered by a horrid rag (it is the mystery that opens to the punchline) and is fed with raw potatoes (his obsession extends to his turning his eating utensils into cues and the potatoes into billiards balls); the punchline is that his misfortune is a freak accident in one of his usual games. The punchline of the punchline is the cameo of Efren 'Bata' Reyes, the aficionado's savior. Aragon prolongs the comedy through the end credits: the suspect nineball passed from one cue to another in shocking yet deadpan fashion.

Alvin Yapan, awarded fiction writer and lecturer on Filipino literature in Ateneo de Manila University, enters the filmmaking arena with much humility. His short film Rolyo (Roll), which tackles a provincial family trying to earn a living, won Best Short Film in Cinemalaya and in my opinion, is the most outstanding short film of the year. The film is technically crude (the visuals feel very earthy and natural, the sound design unabridged with background noise --- provincial breeze muffling the audio --- unedited from the final product). Yapan is obviously not a trained filmmaker, but what he possesses is a gift for telling a story with layers and layers of meanings, overcoming the banality of the mundane to dish out an engaging commentary.


Alvin Yapan's Rolyo (Film Roll)

The subject of Rolyo (Film Roll) is the titular film roll, used by the family as perimeter fence of their farm to protect their crops from feeding birds. The daughter is tasked to catch the birds, which her father will later on paint with cheap watercolors. The next day, the two travel to the town church where they will sell the painted birds to other children. The money they will earn from the sale of the birds will be used to buy home-made trumpets, crafted by rolling reels into a cone. The irony of the film is that the use of these film reels is anything but cinematic or artistic; the family uses the reels for economic purposes. Cinema to them is confined within the perimeters of daily survival and is mutated into a mere tool for livelihood (the art is removed from the substance (the negatives)), far detached from common precepts of what cinema stands for. The main character, the daughter stands in front of a cineplex showing the latest Hollywood blockbuster. Her father disapproves knowing that they cannot afford to purchase tickets to the screening and they proceed to walk (there's also a sublime sequence which showcases their detachment. The daughter exchanges glances with a kid inside a fastfood chain; the two of them separated by both the glass window and financial freedom. The kid continues to play merrily while the daughter walks along with her father to the church).

The short ends with an act that showcases Filipino innovativeness amidst the lack of economic power: the daughter against the candle light "watches" the movie from the de-rolled reel sourced from the homemade trumpet, just before it is converted into an anti-avian fence. It's a nuanced scene symbolic of the daughter's trying to infuse cinema back to the reels which have been commodified by human need. Here, she finds a semblance of what the reels are really meant for (to tell stories) despite being stuck in her harsh reality which does not provide her cinema. Rolyo really is a fascinating film, sufficiently turning the film reel (one also wonders which lost Filipino classic the daughter has seen that night) as a symbol of humanism against the face of a dehumanizing work-a-day world.

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This post is my contribution to the Short Film Blog-A-Thon hosted in Only the Cinema and Culture Snob.

Philippine Cinema on the Verge of Redemption

from Sherad Sanchez's Huling Balyan ng Buhi (Woven Stories of the Other)

Philippine Cinema on the Verge of Redemption
by Francis Joseph Cruz

Nine Best Digital Films

My list would have been different. Lav Diaz’s Heremias (2006; a nine-hour epic about an ox-cart driver on a spiritual journey), Dennis Marasigan’s Sa North Diversion Road (On the North Diversion Road, 2005; a road trip through the despair of a dying marriage), Ato Bautista’s Sa Aking Pagkagising Mula sa Kamulatan (My Awakening From Consciousness, 2005; a powerful yet flawed film of connected stories of angst-ridden teens), Khavn dela Cruz’s Squatterpunk (2006; a video-collage of scenes shot in the slums set into motion by the music of the aptly-named band, The Brockas), and most recently Jade Castro’s Endo (2007; a lovely romance set in a world of temporary contractual workers) would possibly make the cut.

It’s unfortunate that there’s only one documentary in the list. Raya Martin’s The Island at the End of the World (2005; a fascinating immersion on the Ivatans of Batanes as shown by juvenile inmates) and Ditsi Carolino’s Bunso (The Youngest, 2005; a brave expose on the futility of both our judicial and penal systems, as shown by the experiences of juvenile inmates) are all powerful documentaries. More surprising is the lack of genre films. Rico Ilarde’s Sa Ilalim ng Cogon (Beneath the Cogon¸ 2005; a nightmarish tale of a man-on-the-run, a mysterious lass, and a monster hiding beneath a forest of tall grass), Erik Matti’s Pa-Siyam (2004; although studio-financed, it is a film shot in digital video, about siblings unraveling the mysteries behind their mother’s death) and Mario Cornejo & Monster Jimenez’s Big Time (2005; two petty crooks trapped in a scheme bigger than their ambitions) are all worthy candidates.

The nine digital films in the program, selected through a series of surveys, are all worthy entries. These are the films that do not need the oft-used and bastardized label of “indie” to legitimize their existence.

Films About Children

More than half of Filipinos are children which is probably the reason Philippine cinema has an infatuation with children’s tales. More than the statistics, films about children always focus on coming-of-age, of innocence on the verge of a sudden awakening, of the beauty of naiveté in the midst of the world’s realities.

In Mes de Guzman’s Ang Daan Patungong Kalimugtong (The Road to Kalimugtong, 2005), two children wake up to their daily task of walking miles to reach their school. The film unravels like a humble ode to those struggling to traverse that barricaded road to their meager ambitions. It’s brilliant in its narrative simplicity yet it carries with it a subtle indictment of the ills of an underfunded public education system.

The unlikely heroine of Brillante Mendoza’s Manoro (The Teacher, 2006), young Jonalyn, has the daunting task of teaching the members of her Aeta tribe to write in time for the presidential elections. Through her journey to find her grandfather (who is more interested in hunting for food than taking part in the elections), she awakens to the futility of modern democratic processes, especially to their tribe, a mere dot in the myriad of problems plaguing the nation.

Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros (The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros, 2005) sparked public consciousness on the unlimited possibilities of the digital medium by winning hordes of awards and recognition from several film festivals here and abroad. Auraeus Solito’s first feature carefully puts in the center of the film a fragile romance between an honest cop and adorable Maxie. In a sequence borrowed from Carol Reed’s The Third Man, we become witnesses of the pre-pubescent gay boy’s quickened and heartbreaking blossoming in a world as dirty as the trash-clogged canals shown in the film’s start.

Films About Poverty

Poverty is more often than not, a primary ingredient in Philippine cinema. Being poor is prima facie evidence of being the underdog and filmgoers’ hearts ache for the underdog. Lino Brocka turned poverty into his canvass; it is the impetus for the bizarre love triangle in Insiang (1976), for the Manila-bound exodus of Ligaya in Maynila sa Kuko ng Liwanag (Manila in the Claws of Neon, 1975), and for the subjugation of the men to near-nude grinding in Macho Dancer (1988). Digital cinema has embraced the decades-old trope with a fresh approach.

Riles (Life on the Tracks, 2003) is the lone documentary in the program. Ditsi Carolino’s unobtrusive camera relentlessly follows the Renomerons during their final days living in a makeshift shack a meter away from the railroad tracks. Of course, the true movers of the documentary are Carolino’s subjects: Eddie, the husband with pitch-perfect comic timing and Pen, whose consistent nagging is made charming by her fortitude against the many illnesses she is feeling. The result of Carolino’s sincere storytelling and the Renomerons’ willingness to have their lives immortalized in digital video is a moving portrait of survival and resilience in the midst of inhumane living conditions.

Like Riles, Jeffrey Jeturian’s Kubrador (The Bet Collector, 2006) centers on the resiliency of its main character Amy, a bet collector for an illegal numbers game. Her profession dictates that she be at the mercy of fate as her every transaction, each little mistake invites death. Always moving forward and with frequent apparitions from his dead soldier son, it takes a chance encounter with death for her to pause, and realize how close she is to the grave.

New Visions

A cinematic revolution that merely exchanges 35mm for the cheap conveniences of digital video can hardly be called as a true revolution. The conventions of narrative cinema should be broken, and new stories be told.

If cinema is terrorism, as John Torres’ Todo Todo Teros forwards, then the Philippines would be its ideal headquarters. Torres populates his film with familiar faces and places: directors Lav Diaz, Khavn dela Cruz, and Regiben Romana are artist-terrorist hybrids and pubs and concert venues their dangerous lairs. However, that’s just the brilliant backdrop of this essentially romantic tale of an artist deeply in love with Olga, his Russian tour guide, at the expense of his desperate wife. That scene where the wife weeps as footages of her husband and Olga sharing moments with each other are projected over each and every corner of that paranoid metropolis is something that will forever be etched in my cinematic consciousness.

Sherad Anthony Sanchez’s Huling Balyan ng Buhi (Woven Stories of the Other, 2006) was made with seed money provided by Cinema One, a cable network under the Lopez Family-owned conglomerate. It is the best film to ever be funded out of the pockets of Lopezes (a daunting feat since the family owns one of the biggest film studios in the country). A boy and a girl on a search, a band of Communist fighters, a camp of government troops, their neighbor, a priestess of a dying tradition --- these are the threads that are weaved to form the mysterious and magical, subversive yet lyrical tale of the marginalized.

Raya Martin’s Maicling Pelicula ng Ysang Indio Nacional (A Short Film About the Indio Nacional, 2005) presupposes a film culture that preceded the concept of nationhood. Vignettes of everyday functions (quite subversive in its subtle humor; children enchanted by an eclipse and churchgoing chores) under Spanish rule, transforming into the footholds of an impending revolution are successively shown, accompanied by live music (from a repertoire chosen personally by Martin). The clever footages are given significance by the film’s haunting first part: a woman unable to sleep wakes up her husband and begs for a story; the story alludes to the melancholy of a nation deprived of identity and history, symbolized by the woman deprived of her sleep.

Lav Diaz’s Ebolusyon ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino (Evolution of a Filipino Family, 2004) took a decade to make (it includes both 16mm and digital video footage). Clocking at eleven hours, the film is a monumental examination of two families struggling through the political and economic change brought about by history. The middle entry to his Filipino Trilogy (which includes Batang West Side (West Side Avenue, 2002) and Heremias), the film establishes Diaz as one of the most unique voices in contemporary cinema.

Like the fractured interconnected souls of Diaz’s Ebolusyon ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino, our cinema is on the verge of a beautiful redemption. Young filmmakers like Martin, Sanchez, Torres, and many more waiting to be discovered have taken into their hands the role of pioneers of this new Philippine cinema. Truly, we are living in exciting times.

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This article was written for the 9th Cinemanila International Film Festival catalogue. Unfortunately, the program of "Nine Best Digital Films" was shelved, along with this article. It has found a new home in my blog.
The film festival runs from August 9 to 19 in the Gateway Mall in Quezon City, and August 17 to 19 in Boracay Island.

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I also urge you to check Noel Vera's List of 100 Best Filipino Films.

Shake, Rattle and Roll 8 (2006)

Shake, Rattle and Roll 8 (Rahyan Carlos, Topel Lee & Mike Tuviera, 2006)

If you ask me what the best thing that came out of Regal Studios these past few years, I'd tell you with a straight face that it is their films from the indefatigable Shake, Rattle and Roll franchise. While most people are waiting for the end of the franchise, I, on the other hand, eagerly await the next film. If you're going to ask me why I hold the horror trilogy in such high esteem, I'd bluntly answer because it's always interesting; as opposed to their Mano Po franchise, or the never ending Joel Lamangan melodramas. Just last year, the franchise exposed to the Filipino masses the works of independent filmmakers Rico Maria Ilarde (his Aquarium is a far cry from his Ang Babaeng Putik (Woman of Mud, 2001) or Sa Ilalim ng Cogon (Beneath the Cogon, 2005)) and Richard Somes (his Ang Lihim ng San Joaquin (The Secret of San Joaquin) surprised me by inflicting film history lessons with his recreation of the typical aswang tale).

The eighth installment to the long-running franchise has three young directors helming three different tales of horror and the supernatural. The older Shake, Rattle and Roll films never bothered to connect the short films with at least similar themes or recurring characters; Shake, Rattle and Roll 8 manages to instill within the three works a narrative device that connects them. Moreover, the three short films in this installment are all situated in Metro Manila, or at least has its main characters dependent on urban living. With that, a subtle theme surfaces. There seems to be a careful commentary on urban living wherein urbanites are too busy or too preoccupied to meticulously observe the suspect trappings of their day-to-day life.

Rahyan Carlos (who wrote and directed the awful Pamahiin (Superstition, 2006)) helms the first episode entitled 13th Floor. Carlos manages to churn out a product that is generic, without being utterly repulsive. The plot follows a company of birthday party specialists that was employed by a couple living on the fourteenth floor of a residential building for the birthday of their only daughter. The party starts and they find out that the daughter's guests are all ghosts --- tragic victims of a fire that engulfed the building which used to be an orphanage. Carlos has a good collection of comedians to do the comedy work for him --- Bearwin Meily, Janus del Prado (who I thought was gifted with pitch-perfect comedic timing), Keanna Reeves (who wears her shirt to proclaim that her gargantuan breasts are a joke by themselves), theater veterans Robert Sena and Isay Alvarez. The rest of the film, including the technicals, is merely patchwork for Carlos. It's entertaining but completely forgettable.

Music video director Topel Lee picks up from what Carlos left behind. Lee is one director who has a unique eye for aesthetics. He begins his episode entitled Yaya (Nanny) with only the hands of the yet to be uncovered nanny walking towards a suburban dwelling. Leaves wilt and plants die as she passes by; Lee wants to make it clear that the monster here is no mere creature but a being of extreme evil that death and destruction are mere consequences of her passing by. She is employed by a mother (Sheryl Cruz) to take care of her two offsprings; a baby girl and a trouble making kid (Nash Aguas). We first see the face of the new nanny (Iza Calzado); Calzado is a tall lady with distinct yet calm facial features; her casting is a brilliant decision as she's one of the few young actresses who can effectively limit gestures and still remain effective. The little kid starts to suspect that their new nanny is an aswang (a vampiric monster who feeds on little children and the livers of adults). He starts questioning around and prepares himself for a self-imposed battle for his and his baby sister's survival.

Lee directs with masterful precision. There are very few cheap thrills or forced shocks. Instead Lee punctures your guard with a compelling scenario he infuses with his perfectionist visuals. With cinematographer J.A. Tadena, he conjures a suburban paradise that suddenly turns into a children's nightmare with the introduction of Calzado's nanny-from-hell. You instantly root for the kid (Aguas has a natural charm that draws you to his plight). In one sequence wherein Lee shows off his comfort zone (MTV's), we dutifully follow the kid's mission in building up an arsenal of traditional weapons against the folkloric monster with the aid of Von de Guzman's enchanting yet apt music scoring. It's a wonderful, wonderful episode that beautifully portrays the horrorful nightmarish vision of evil masquerading as a household help appearing suddenly to disrupt the peace of suburban living, all seen in the point of view of an innocent yet hardy boy.

More ambitious is Mike Tuviera's LRT, the third and final episode of the film. Like in his first feature film Txt (2006) wherein he reveals the cellular phone as an instrument of supernatural evil, Tuviera again uses a modern tool of convenience as the harbinger of chills and death. A group of passengers find themselves trapped when their coach diverts from its usual route ending up in the locked servicing terminal of the LRT (light rail transit). The terminal is the home of a mysterious monster who feeds on the hearts of its victims. It's a wonderful mix of monster feed --- there's the hero (Keempee de Leon), the hero's love interest (Manilyn Reynes) and her asthmatic son, a host of employees, a teenage couple, a band of petty criminals, and a persistent evangelist.

The episode plays out like a shortened version of a Guillermo del Toro monster flick (some portions I thought were inspired by del Toro's Mimic (1997) and scenes from Hellboy (2004)). Tuviera keeps the suspense at a reasonable high, only sometimes interrupted by illogical placements of cheesy dialogue between the hero and his former girlfriend. The film is technically brilliant; de Guzman's musical score emphasizes the setting by using industrial rock elements, Odyssey Flores' cinematography is exquisitely executed, the editing is quick yet judicious. When I thought LRT as merely effective but has really nothing else to say, Tuviera surprises me with a twist which I thought was very brave, if not politically motivated or at least leads to several conclusions of political, or if you're one who is allergic to allusions to present politics, societal nature.

I thought Shake, Rattle and Roll 8 might be one of the most consistent entries to the franchise. There are no clear masterpieces (no Ishmael Bernal's Fridyider (Frigidaire) or Somes' Ang Lihim ng San Joaquin), but there are no outright disappointments (Emmanuel Borlaza's Baso (Glass)) either. Overall, it's one thrilling ride from start to finish; and I'm not afraid to shout "I want more!"