My second day attending Cinema One Originals was at Newport Mall beside Resorts World Manila. I have to say other than IMAX those are the most comfy theater seats in any theater I've been to. Today, we talk about shorts and one competition feature.
WE WANT SHORT SHORTS SHORT SHORTS REVIEWS CINEMA ONE EDITION
Anino, a classic short by Raymond Red, was first up. Our main character, goaded by an enigmatic being (played by John Arcilla, no less) encounters life outside of his relatively sheltered existence taking photos for churchgoers. It seems arbitrary but it's not. It's very open to interpretation, and we are left wondering who the mysterious person is (is it part of the protagonist's psyche? a devil hovering over his shoulder? his conscience?)
Junilyn Has sets up a punchline, and it ends up really sticking to you in the end. Enter the ironies of amorality through moral facades. It's true that Junilyn Has (meron si Junilyn) but the phrase has a double meaning as well.
Dindo continues the trend from Martika Escobar's previous Pusong Bato in exploring one's fascination with nostalgia and the past (notably the cinematic past of our country.) This time it's about a boy's search for his father through the films they shared together. Dindo takes the fourth wall and drops a nuke on it. It's cleverly written.
This is the third time I've seen Sanctissima, and I think this was the cut I saw at Binisaya a few months back (I could swear the lesbian couple had dialogue, but I could be wrong.) Fellow moviegoers at the back were cringing at the horrific scenes, so it's still very effective. As a side note, having seen lots of dead fetuses in my line of work, the effects were spot on.
Reyna Christina is a coming of age tale. Tina's preparations and eventual walk at the local Santacruzan is a journey towards the realization of her own uncertain womanhood, the True Cross to her Santa Elena.
Pusong Bato is the struggle of man and woman, buried underneath imagery and sound. It is a bit hard to access, as we are left to uncover its meaning through our own interpretation. Also I think I saw a ship that the duo could have sailed to during the last moments of the film.
Mabuhay ang Pilipinas reminded me of a much longer film, Ang Kubo sa Kawayanan, except that the other party (in this case, a woman) wasn't as pushy about people leaving them. It speaks a lot about our countrymen who end up leaving the country, little by little abandoning the things that they love (partially symbolized by the camera) until they are left with a promise they cannot keep. Sure, there is a good life abroad, but realities abroad are harsh, and as our protagonist puts down the camera to continue the work, life's not as happy as it seems. (The movie also hammers this in via a rendition of our very own national anthem, playing over the credits.)
I've already seen Memorya in the Binisaya film fest, but this seems to be the remastered version as everything sounds way better than the cut I saw, and the voices sound different. My opinions on it stay the same, aside from the obvious sonic improvements.
The Tenant is the first of two international short films in the program. A refugee lives in an old lady's house. A victim of political oppression, he still experiences PTSD from the sounds of helicopters. The film's ending mirrors his state in a country that hesitates to accept him, leaving him as a man with no country, a tenant with no place to truly call home.
And finally we have A Love Story, which is far more straightforward than I had expected (although of course the genre, being about undead flesh eating creatures, is what it is.) It's nice, but as zombie movies are becoming popular with mainstream audiences, stories like this abound even in places like Youtube.
WE WANT SHORT SHORTS SHORT SHORTS REVIEWS CINEMA ONE EDITION
Anino, a classic short by Raymond Red, was first up. Our main character, goaded by an enigmatic being (played by John Arcilla, no less) encounters life outside of his relatively sheltered existence taking photos for churchgoers. It seems arbitrary but it's not. It's very open to interpretation, and we are left wondering who the mysterious person is (is it part of the protagonist's psyche? a devil hovering over his shoulder? his conscience?)
Junilyn Has sets up a punchline, and it ends up really sticking to you in the end. Enter the ironies of amorality through moral facades. It's true that Junilyn Has (meron si Junilyn) but the phrase has a double meaning as well.
Dindo continues the trend from Martika Escobar's previous Pusong Bato in exploring one's fascination with nostalgia and the past (notably the cinematic past of our country.) This time it's about a boy's search for his father through the films they shared together. Dindo takes the fourth wall and drops a nuke on it. It's cleverly written.
This is the third time I've seen Sanctissima, and I think this was the cut I saw at Binisaya a few months back (I could swear the lesbian couple had dialogue, but I could be wrong.) Fellow moviegoers at the back were cringing at the horrific scenes, so it's still very effective. As a side note, having seen lots of dead fetuses in my line of work, the effects were spot on.
Reyna Christina is a coming of age tale. Tina's preparations and eventual walk at the local Santacruzan is a journey towards the realization of her own uncertain womanhood, the True Cross to her Santa Elena.
Pusong Bato is the struggle of man and woman, buried underneath imagery and sound. It is a bit hard to access, as we are left to uncover its meaning through our own interpretation. Also I think I saw a ship that the duo could have sailed to during the last moments of the film.
Mabuhay ang Pilipinas reminded me of a much longer film, Ang Kubo sa Kawayanan, except that the other party (in this case, a woman) wasn't as pushy about people leaving them. It speaks a lot about our countrymen who end up leaving the country, little by little abandoning the things that they love (partially symbolized by the camera) until they are left with a promise they cannot keep. Sure, there is a good life abroad, but realities abroad are harsh, and as our protagonist puts down the camera to continue the work, life's not as happy as it seems. (The movie also hammers this in via a rendition of our very own national anthem, playing over the credits.)
I've already seen Memorya in the Binisaya film fest, but this seems to be the remastered version as everything sounds way better than the cut I saw, and the voices sound different. My opinions on it stay the same, aside from the obvious sonic improvements.
The Tenant is the first of two international short films in the program. A refugee lives in an old lady's house. A victim of political oppression, he still experiences PTSD from the sounds of helicopters. The film's ending mirrors his state in a country that hesitates to accept him, leaving him as a man with no country, a tenant with no place to truly call home.
And finally we have A Love Story, which is far more straightforward than I had expected (although of course the genre, being about undead flesh eating creatures, is what it is.) It's nice, but as zombie movies are becoming popular with mainstream audiences, stories like this abound even in places like Youtube.
And I guess it is appropriate to end where we started, with Raymond Red. His previous full length feature, Kamera Obscura, dealt with the filmmaker's relationship with his craft and the 'cinema' he has created. With his latest film, he goes a bit more personal with Mga Rebeldeng May Kaso, which is a fictionalized account of the infancy of Philippine independent and alternative cinema, a movement Red was heavily involved in.
The movie is set a few months after the EDSA revolution that changed the political and social landscape of the Philippines forever. There's a film festival going on, and it's on its last day. Rem (Felix Roco) is supposed to provide the closing film, but something is preventing him from finishing it.
Youthful rebelliousness and the climate of the times birthed creative and alternative movements, in this case, the alternative film scene and the punk scene. I guess there's something about wanting to go against the grain, a revolutionary spirit, so to say, that makes people go out and do unconventionally creative stuff. I've often heard about the beginnings of Filipino independent stories, but many were just anecdotes and fairy tales. This is the first film that I've seen that tackles this formative period in our cinematic history.
This has left me wondering why the director went for a fictionalized account of this event, instead of a direct documentary style treatment, or at least a mix of the two. I'm still weighing if either choice would have ended up better than the other. To many people who are aware of the history behind this cinematic movement, they would appreciate the film more. But without the historical context - the basis behind the film - I feel those viewers will not have appreciated the film as much as they would have had the treatment been different. The Q and A portion after the gala premiere solved much of those problems for me, but I wonder how other viewers, without the benefit of knowledge of these events, will react.
In a sense, many of the things that happened in this movie still happen today; back then, filmmakers also wondered whether to stay underground or go mainstream. Even now, the struggle for relevance and acceptance in a film industry headed by huge studio juggernauts continues. In the indie scene, independent filmmakers still ally themselves with like minded independent musicians - Sleepless, Ang Nawawala and Lisyun Qng Geografia are recent examples.
Mga Rebeldeng May Kaso is a snapshot, and at a brisk 75 minutes, it flies by. As a snapshot of a past generation, details and background information are inevitably lost in its creation. But watching the film only makes me want to learn more about the beginnings of a cinematic culture whose effects are being felt even today.
The movie is set a few months after the EDSA revolution that changed the political and social landscape of the Philippines forever. There's a film festival going on, and it's on its last day. Rem (Felix Roco) is supposed to provide the closing film, but something is preventing him from finishing it.
Youthful rebelliousness and the climate of the times birthed creative and alternative movements, in this case, the alternative film scene and the punk scene. I guess there's something about wanting to go against the grain, a revolutionary spirit, so to say, that makes people go out and do unconventionally creative stuff. I've often heard about the beginnings of Filipino independent stories, but many were just anecdotes and fairy tales. This is the first film that I've seen that tackles this formative period in our cinematic history.
This has left me wondering why the director went for a fictionalized account of this event, instead of a direct documentary style treatment, or at least a mix of the two. I'm still weighing if either choice would have ended up better than the other. To many people who are aware of the history behind this cinematic movement, they would appreciate the film more. But without the historical context - the basis behind the film - I feel those viewers will not have appreciated the film as much as they would have had the treatment been different. The Q and A portion after the gala premiere solved much of those problems for me, but I wonder how other viewers, without the benefit of knowledge of these events, will react.
In a sense, many of the things that happened in this movie still happen today; back then, filmmakers also wondered whether to stay underground or go mainstream. Even now, the struggle for relevance and acceptance in a film industry headed by huge studio juggernauts continues. In the indie scene, independent filmmakers still ally themselves with like minded independent musicians - Sleepless, Ang Nawawala and Lisyun Qng Geografia are recent examples.
Mga Rebeldeng May Kaso is a snapshot, and at a brisk 75 minutes, it flies by. As a snapshot of a past generation, details and background information are inevitably lost in its creation. But watching the film only makes me want to learn more about the beginnings of a cinematic culture whose effects are being felt even today.
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