ToFarm Film Festival 2018 | Festival Report

What a strange, strange film this is. The first thirty or so minutes of Carlo Catu's Mga Anak ng Kamote is confusing but intriguing at the same time. There is manipulation of both image and sound, the frame shifting its size to reflect the character's state of mind,  the sound shifting from crystal clear to canned and muddled, as if trapped inside an old, decaying film from the seventies.

The film amalgamates satire and science fiction, the sane and insane, things both mundane and absurd. The innocuous sweet potato is portrayed as a dangerous narcotic that threatens to unravel the fabric of society itself. It sounds ridiculous, and it is. But dystopias are inherently absurd, and perhaps the film reflects that absurdity and magnifies it for all to see, as a warning - as dystopias are created despite their absurd nature. And considering we are in the midst of a crackdown on illegal drugs, there's some real world, contemporary resonance here too.

The film also plays with the plasticity of memories. What really happened to our main character, Iyong (Katrina Halili)? Who is this mysterious old lady who shares her name? Why does this strange relationship create a weird time loop? I'd by lying if I told you I know what's actually going on, and the film deserves a second watch if only for that.

There are a few minor technical hiccups. The subtitles have a number of errors, and at times Katrina Halili's makeup is too orange (though considering the amount of carotenoids in sweet potatoes, this may be deliberate.) Nevertheless, Mga Anak ng Kamote is the kind of film that's very hard to pin down. I hope it finds more mileage in the festival and arthouse circuit.

At first, the rhythms of Tanabata's Wife threw me off, as it was a bit atypical compared to what I am accustomed to in local cinema. But when I saw the simplicity behind its creation, the visual symmetry, and the frames shot from a low angle camera, as if seated on a tatami mat, I realized the genius behind the construction of this film: it borrows from Japanese sensibilities, from Ozu and Kurosawa, to reflect a story whose melding of cultures is seen in its heroine's name: Fas-ang, a "crossing of boundaries." As a literary work, it is a story rooted deep in history and culture, its author the son of a Japanese father and an Ibaloi mother.

Set in the 1920's, Tanabata (Miyuki Kamimura) is an immigrant farmer from Japan who settles in the Mountain Province. This was apparently common at the time; Japanese workers were commissioned by the Americans to build infrastructure. Tanabata falls in love with a local woman, Fas-ang (Mai Fanglayan), and the two of them get married. Their marriage is anything but typical: they are wed without ceremony, both husband and wife refusing to accede to norms. This rebellion is particularly resonant considering that in Japanese culture, to conform is the rule. But love transcends rules and cultural norms, creating something unique and beautiful. However, traditions seem to creep back into the story, and Fas-ang retreats to the safety of the city lights of Baguio and the allure of American silent films. She is then attracted by a fellow tribesman who convinces her to leave Tanabata, which leaves him despondent over her departure.

The film is exquisitely framed and crafted; the pace is slow and deliberate, restrained yet expressive in the words it elects not to express. Fas-ang is depicted not as an unthinking savage, but as a strong-minded, independent woman who is not constrained by tribe or normalcy. There is a hesitancy with both characters to cross cultures, stemming from either a reluctance or an inability to understand the cultural norms of the other. But relationships are built on compromise, and it is that notion that ultimately overcomes any misgivings.

The final frames of this lovely film reflect not Fas-ang's name, but Tanabata's: his namesake is a star festival that celebrates the plight of star-crossed lovers. These final images fade to black until we see only Tanabata-as-Hikoboshi's tear-laden eyes, like stars twinkling in the darkness of the night, guiding our lovers home.

Piyo (Jefferson Bringas) is a member of the Talaandig tribe of Bukidnon. He is slated to be the next Datu or leader of their tribe, but a yearning for freedom leads him to leave his village and make a living as a musician. Still, the land of his birth calls to him.

There's a certain musical quality to Julienne Ilagan's Kauyagan that is fairly entertaining. The film is peppered with songs with both a contemporary and traditional flair. The film is also a story about how Lumad traditions are fading as the younger generation leave for greener pastures, an idea that is much in line with recent films such as The Chanters (2017), albeit with a more traditional storytelling approach.

However, the film proves to be a bit scattershot in its approach.  On the whole, the film is pretty rough. The plot takes several detours and changes direction during the first half and only really picks up once Piyo returns to his home village. Conversations are shot without much coverage, and the general pace is pretty languid.

I appreciate the intent behind the film, but Kauyagan's execution doesn't always match its ambition. Still, it's worth it if only to see a story about our indigenous tribes, groups that continue to be underrepresented in local media even today.

For a film festival about farming, ToFarm is home to the most number of local science fiction films made in the past five years. Alimuom is perhaps one of its most ambitious: in the near future, the Philippines has banned farming altogether in part due to the toxic environment. Diwa (Ina Feleo) is a scientist whose work extensively involves plants. She is contacted by the government to help identify a number of mysterious seedlings, leading to some pretty interesting revelations.

The film's social science fiction approach is similar to last year's Instalado, which establishes a futuristic world whose society closely mirrors our own. The Filipinos of Alimuom have elected to leave the country in droves, opting to carve out a life in off-world colonies as Outerspace Filipino Workers (OFWs.) The ones who are left behind are burdened with a repressive, bureaucratic and controlling government and a hypercapitalist system. 

And like Instalado, while there is extensive worldbuilding (and considering the low budget, impressive visuals to match), it suffers the same problems as that film. There is a revelation near the end of the film that is not really surprising, but the implications behind it are world-shattering if used correctly. However, the film doesn't really do anything with this revelation, instead opting to leave the world as it is. The film gives its characters the chance to change the world, but this choice lingers in limbo. Maybe that's the point? Maybe there's a part 2 in the works?

If only for its soaring creative ambition, Alimuom is worth watching. As a fan of science fiction and the worlds they depict, I enjoyed seeing this film, despite its flaws.

In every edition of ToFarm there is that one film that embodies the spirit of the festival the most, and this year, it's Hubert Tibi's 1957. It's a relatively simple film about a group of farmers who work under the rule of a landlord, just as President Ramon Magsaysay prepares to initiate a comprehensive agrarian reform law which would give farmers more rights.

1957 plants many seeds that take sprout later on in the film: a giant cob of corn (discovered through a bout of ilicit sex of all things) becomes a metaphor for rights and ownership. A particular character quirk becomes something more profound later on. And even the film's title becomes somewhat resonant as the film ends.

1957 is not a perfect film. There are parts that are roughly constructed, and the film tends to meander in its first hour (I was prepared to call this film 'horny farmer boiz'). However, once the conflict between the farmers and the landlord is firmly established, things get interesting and poignant. And the film's final frames show the plight of the Filipino farmer as a whole: strong together, and reliant only on each others' strength, and not on those who seek dominion over their lives.

The first sequence of Roman Perez Jr.'s Sol Searching paints its titular character in a not-so-flattering light: as an irascible, strict woman with a huge chip on her shoulder. But as we learn more about the titular Sol as a person, the portrait formed is that of a true contemporary hero, one whose life has touched so many, but due to circumstance is doomed to fade into memory.

After her untimely death, Sol's friend and fellow teacher Lorelei (Pokwang) and student Bugoy (JM Salvado) take Sol's body on a tour in order to find a place to hold a decent wake, and the film takes the shape of a road movie. But they are denied time and again because of many factors. Sol ran afoul of many people - politicians, landowners and other unmentionables - because of her advocacy to help uplift the farming community. Her dedication to her students and the farmers is unwavering, and as the film goes on we slowly piece together what happened to Sol in that first sequence. Salvado and Pokwang are excellent together, and this first part by itself is solid.

The film takes a different direction during its second half, once the actual wake starts and people who know Sol personally begin to arrive. By taking the focus away from Lorelei and Bugoy, the film is weakened, though the place we are eventually taken to isn't bad, just unexpected. From the plight of teachers, the film shifts its focus to the commodification of the dead, depicting a system that allows the dead and the bereaved no place for dignity. In one earlier scene, a funeral parlor operator treats the dead like rungs in a multilevel marketing scheme. Later on, Sol's corpse is made as the epicenter of a gambling operation, similar to films such as Oros (2012) and Purgatoryo (2016).

The film tackles a lot of heavy topics, but it is a comedy, and for the most part, it succeeds. Despite all the darkness and tragedy, there is an undercurrent of hope underneath, that perhaps the seeds Sol planted did take root and grow after all, and the moment of that realization is a seriously affecting moment. Sol Searching is a finely made, uplifting film held up by some top notch performances.