Cinema One Originals: Forbidden Memory, Every Room is a Planet, Malinak Ya Labi

"Remembering is a sorrowful thing," one of the interviewees in Teng Mangansakan's Forbidden Memory declares. And indeed, this oral history surrounding the events of the 1974 Malisbong Massacre is a hard watch. But these are memories that should not be forgotten, in light of recent events. In a way, this film is a service, a gift for future generations, a warning to all that this must not happen again.

Its truths ring more true than any fake news site peddling lies and bullshit, as it comes directly from the mouths of the survivors of the massacre - part of an oppressive string of military operations that destroyed many innocent lives.

The stories are heartwrenching, and many say that they would never have told these stories otherwise. Yet their stories are only a small part of the deaths, rapes and incidents of torture that happened during that time. These events created towns of widows and orphans, with many not knowing to this day where their loved ones are buried.

Haunting are the pictures of the people, taken by an American who observed the beginnings of the operation, showing the townspeople rounded up in the tens, maybe hundreds, before the carnage. And disturbing is the coda to the film, showing a nation that has already forgotten this forbidden memory, choosing instead to forget and glorify a dictator as a hero.

Perhaps even more tragic is that Malisbong is only one of many atrocities committed against the Moro people during the Martial Law era. I would not be surprised if many people, enraged by these atrocities, went on to rebel against the government, a consequence of Marcos' all out war.

To forget these memories is to sanitize history. To forget is to deny the truth. And the denial of truth - almost nothing is as heinous. But nothing will ever erase this bloody stain in our history - just as, even now, shadows of bloody palm prints still exist in the mosque in Malisbong.

Every Room is a Planet is quite the strange experience. On paper it's a love story about a guy, his mentally unstable sister in law, and everything else around them. But on screen is a different story. The visual presentation of the film is mesmerizing. The film takes its title literally, with every room delineated by its own unique visuals - the outside being monochrome, a therapist's office awash with reds, and a personal space bathed in a warm instagram-like filter. Doors open and close with the sound of a science fiction airlock.

It all takes a while getting used to, and the film as a whole does takes its time getting to the meat of the story, easing us towards the revelations near the middle of the film. It keeps us deliberately in the dark regarding the missing brother in law, and whether the woman's psychoses are real or not. At times it descends into tedium, and it can get clunky or boring in places.

But when things get going, they get very strange, in a very good way. The presentation is fresh and interesting, although thanks to that same presentation style, it doesn't always work out. The strangeness hinges with Valeen Montenegro's performance, whose psyche unfolds in a nuanced manner, her quirks and instability rubbing off on Rap Fernandez's character.

This is honestly a hard film to pin down. It treads the line of experimental stuff, but not too much as to become frustrating. I recommend a watch, especially to those who have seen Javier's previous work and want to see an evolution in style.

And finally, we have Malinak Ya Labi (Silent Night), a regional feature from Pangasinan. The story tells itself in segments that proceed in reverse (the first scene is actually the last chronological scene in the film) ala Memento, and its premise, that of ritual sacrifice and a string of murders, seems tantalizing.

However, the film suffers from one really glaring sin: it is too preoccupied with being showy and gimmicky in its presentation. We don't just get a drone shot, we get a gratuitous drone shot that seems unnecessary. We don't just get slow motion, we get an entire sequence (minutes long) in slow motion that becomes tedious. The reverse narrative becomes frustrating, existing only for the sake of its gimmick, robbing the film of its form until more than halfway through. At times the editing becomes awkward, and some scenes don't really work because of this.

It's a shame, since the movie seems to talk about interesting issues: it talks about the dirty little secrets people keep even in small communities. It talks about how those in power are no less trustworthy than your neighbor (maybe even less so.) It talks about things about society we'd rather not talk about. It talks about tradition and sacrifice, about how our most vulnerable are susceptible to the whims of the deceitful. But the message is lost in the delivery.