Heneral Luna

I've often overlooked Antonio Luna when I studied history during my childhood. Compared to his much more popular brother Juan and other historical figures from our past, he tends to get lost in the noise.

Often I find myself disappointed with Filipino historical films; sometimes they serve as a glorification of their subject matter, with their stars trying hard to equate their machismo with the said figure's heroism. We often treat these figures with reverence; real life superheroes from our own past. (Raymond Red's 1993 film Sakay, for me, remains an exception). However, Jerrold Tarog's latest film, Heneral Luna, manages to avoid that, and it is a film that ends up shedding light on the life of this remarkable man. It also asks us the hard questions about our country right now and our responsibilities as its citizens.

Heneral Luna takes us into the middle of the Filipino-American War, fresh from our liberation from centuries of Spanish occupation. General Emilio Aguinaldo (Mon Confiado) tries to manage the conflict, but two wildly differing sides are clashing; one side prefers compromise with the Americans; while the other, led by Luna (John Arcilla) wants to keep fighting the technologically superior American forces via guerrilla tactics and a planned fortified stronghold to the north.

While much of the war is fought in the trenches, another, equally important war is waged inside meeting rooms and safehouses as the leaders of the revolutionary government make crucial decisions regarding their stance on the war.

Arcilla does not glamorize his role nor portray Luna as some sort of saint; while history sees him as a consummate soldier, a tactical genius, an accomplished writer and scientist, considered as the Philippines' best and only true general, history also sees him as an irascible, at times belligerent man whose inflexible style was not a match for his army. In a career defining role, Arcilla paints the picture of a multifaceted man whose fierce patriotism is a flaming heart in the right place. In contrast, the revolutionary army, which is, for all intents and purposes a militia group of untrained, undisciplined men and women, balk at his command style, still tied to clan or regional loyalties and their own egos. 

As expected from someone with an impressive body of work, the technical aspects of the film are sound. Excellent camerawork and an engaging soundtrack work. Heneral Luna is peppered with haunting images of reminiscence and bloodshed: an expertly done flashback sequence done in one take reflects a stream of consciousness, while other scenes of brutality shock and imprint themselves, notably one scene obviously paying visual tribute to Juan Luna's most famous work, the Spoliarium. While Arcilla carries the film on his shoulders, it is balanced by effective performances from the rest of the cast, many of them veterans from Tarog's previous films. Special mentions go out to Mon Confiado's controlled take on Aguinaldo, Joem Bascon and Archie Alemania as Luna's subordinates, and Epi Quizon as Apolinario Mabini. And thankfully the movie is not relentessly bleak; the movie has some light moments to balance out scenes depicting the brutality of war and its human toll.

In historian Robert Rosenstone's piece The Historical Film as Real History, he writes:

"Our sense of the past is shaped and limited by the possibilities and practices of the medium in which that past is conveyed, be it the printed page, the spoken word, the painting, the photograph, the moving image. Which means that whatever historical understanding the mainstream film can provide will be shaped and limited by the conventions of the closed story, the notion of progress, the emphasis on individuals, the single interpretation, the heightening of emotional states, the focus on surfaces."

It is also important for us to realize how historical films (and media) shape our own understanding of the past. My views on our Filipino heroes rarely wavered in my childhood; it was only through a  deeper understanding and investigation of the facts that I realized the glossy truth we are presented as children is often embellished. Perhaps it is important not to view our national heroes as godmen, as saints, bur rather as mortal men beset with the same follies and flaws as any of us.

In the same piece, Rosenstone notes that many mainstream historical films give us a sense that despite this traumatic and hellish past, things are often better now. Films like Saving Private Ryan (1998) among others, give us a sense that now, things are better, and that the people depicted in these films have fought for something.

Tarog, however, subverts this; as the Revolutionary government falls, it is not just because of the American forces, it is because of our own in-fighting and crab mentality. It is clear that the same problems that plagued Luna and his contemporaries in the past still haunt our society today. Patronage politics (or politicking of any kind), lack of discipline, blind obedience to authority, and an individualistic approach to things are still deeply rooted in our culture. Every time you see the government (or rogue branches thereof) kill its own citizens and members of indigenous tribes, every time you see people blindly follow a random seedy politician or ersatz religious figure like zombies, every time you see us voting the wrong people into office, you know: things haven't gotten better, they've gotten worse.

Heneral Luna asks us a question that Enzo Williams' Bonifacio (2014) asks, though not as effectively: what can you do for your country? And, is whatever you are doing truly for your country or for yourself? It also gives us a mirror with which we view ourselves, and by this self reflection, a call to change ourselves and our society for the better.