Cinema One Originals 2017 | Nervous Translation looks at life through the eyes of a child

In Shireen Seno's Nervous Translation, we examine childhood through a child's innocent perspective. Her earlier film, Big Boy (2012), also explored similar themes in a wildly imaginative way. In this film, childhood, innocence and history intertwine in unexpected, magical ways.

Set in the late eighties, Yael is a young gradeschooler living at home with her mother. Her father lives overseas as an OFW, sending cassette tapes home for Yael and her mother to listen to. She's overly shy and introverted, but brilliant in school.

There are a lot of things in this film that aren't explained to us, because we see the world through Yael's eyes. We see Yael's arms covered in bandages, perhaps the result of an allergic reaction or an autoimmune disease (you can imagine the doctor in me trying to diagnose this particular condition) but we see it addressed directly only once. Yael's dad talks about "God's cooking," but other than the vague notion that it's some sort of innuendo there is no explanation for this either. At times the film moves into magical, dreamlike interludes. Events shown on TV happen out of place, perhaps a quirk of fractured, fragmented memories. And that's actually the point -  the film accurately portrays the mystery and magic that children see in otherwise mundane adult affairs. We don't know these things because Yael doesn't know these things either.

I should know, since I grew up in the eighties at around the same time as Yael. I had the same blanket that she had; our house had the same betamax player, the same clunky beige carrier air conditioner. I too recorded my voice onto cassette tapes that I sometimes listen to even today. I used to write things like Yael too, drawing and making up stories on yellow pad paper. There were no gadgets or smartphones to occupy my time, just my imagination, my toys and the entire world.

The film expertly sets up an emotional tone that works because of its unique perspective. A family visit becomes a slightly unwelcome intrusion; cousins become zombie invaders, a child gazing at her favorite uncle is mirrored by camera movement, illicit conversations heard almost out of earshot become strange curiosities. And because it gives us a child's perspective, the film helps us understand why kids do weird things sometimes.

Like Big Boy, Nervous Translation ties in this childhood with another, historical, childhood. Having taken place just after the EDSA Revolution, Nervous Translation frames a child's coming of age with our country's own coming of age. At the time, the country was still in a precarious state, with frequent blackouts and a constant state of danger from multiple coup d'etats. As a country, we may have been reborn after our liberation from decades of oppressive rule, but our country's second childhood mostly comprised of groping in the dark. Yet, on the other hand, this bigger picture may feel distant and inconsequential in the eyes of a child, unconcerned with such things.

This is brave and skillful filmmaking at work. Nervous Translation is a fine examination of childhood that touches on my sense of nostalgia in more ways than one.