Bangis (Joem Bascon) and his family live in a cemetery. He hustles a lot of side jobs but his major source of income comes from grave robbing. When his only child gets sick, Bangis considers desperate measures to save his child.
Pailalim is a movie that draws from a lot of previous social realist films: its milieu has been explored before with films like Ralston Jover's Da Dog Show (2015), and the juxtaposition of the living among the dead draw some comparisons to Magkakabaung (2014), Oros (2012), and Purgatoryo (2016). In this case, the people living among the dead feel like walking dead themselves, shunned and rendered invisible by society at large.
The film delves into some interesting topics such as the behaviors that drive people into drugs, the economies of corruption in small and large scales that perpetuates these communities and even heath seeking behavior influenced by poverty, lack of knowledge and other societal conditions. Ultimately, however, the tale that Pailalim tells is very simple and doesn't quite coalesce into something more profound. We are made to experience their suffering, and that's it.
The work is elevated by a committed performance by Joem Bascon and some decent camerawork. While Pailalim is stuff we've mostly seen before, fans of the social realist genre will have something to chew on.
Zig Dulay's Akin ang Korona opens with a sequence much like the local reality TV show Face to Face, where two groups of people have at each other after revealing some scandalous secret. Face to Face itself was patterned after US shows like Jerry Springer, whose "reality" is itself suspect. As it turns out, this fuzzy line between real life and reality is the beating heart of this film, reminiscent of the works of the late Francis Pasion, especially his 2008 film Jay.
When Nanong's Akin ang Korona confrontation catches the eye of the producer of the show, he is offered a chance to reconnect with his father. Nanong isn't exactly warm to the idea, but the promise of seeing a long-lost parent soon becomes tantalizing. But cinema verite this ain't: Nanong is made to act and reenact his journey, which leads him to some truths about the "reality" we consume.
That in itself can be interpreted as commentary on how television content is produced in human interest programs (such as... well, name your pick), but it can also be interpreted as a subtle jab towards works of social realism, the kind of artistic work that wouldn't feel unwelcome in a festival like Sinag Maynila. Throughout the film Nanong is instructed to stop smiling, as if he is not allowed to feel anything other than misery. He is subtly pushed towards a narrative controlled by the filmmakers. And when reality strays from that narrative,Nanong is forced back to the path... sometimes by force.
This blatant manhandling of narrative is not only counterproductive, as this film shows, it's also dehumanizing towards its subjects, a sort of objectification where flesh and blood human beings are reduced to objects to be pitied and occasionally rewarded with a nice token (only within the show's budget, of course.) But the people behind the program do so only as a consequence of economic realities (you gotta put on a good show, after all) and on Nanong's part, it partially addresses a conversation earlier in the film when he is asked, in a particularly hilarious way, if he would eat a bowl of shit for a million pesos.
The film builds on its awkwardness, as it starts from hilarity and descends into legitimate discomfort. Akin ang Korona highlights the tightrope artists must walk when depicting their fellow human beings in their art - and it shows us, in very adroit fashion, that sometimes, they fall off that rope.
We now take a look at some shorts (not hanging from some clothesline, mind you.)
We Want Short Shorts Short Shorts Reviews Sinag Maynila Edition
Shorts B
While on an objective level Dana Jung comes off as a little rough, it's full of quirkiness and heart as it tells the story of a dad who isn't ready to be a dad and his little girl who just wants to fly (metaphorically this time.)
Panaghoy starts off really weird as we follow what seems to be the Most Oblivious Woman In The World, as she takes what seems to be the Most Obvious Spawn of Satan on a little trip around town. But then the story takes us on a little ride and shows us that things aren't what they seem. I'm not 100% sure it's effective, but points for trying.
The best film (short or full length) I've seen today has to be Dude Pare Bro, a stoner comedy about a struggling architecture student who tries to recruit the services of his stoner (but apparently high-achieving) friend so that he could pass his course. It escalates quickly, and even that feels like an understatement. It's cleverly built on this level of awkwardness that builds up as it goes, making hapless viewers (like myself) laugh out loud and cringe at the same time. It's a glorious feeling.
Nagmamahal, Sal is also rough and scattershot at an objective level, but it does at least come off as heartfelt. Its depiction of a romance that matures over time gives us the highlights, but its disparate parts fail to cohere into a meaningful whole.
Ngiti ni Nazareno checks all the boxes for a grand old miserable time at the cinema: a poor child with a quirky backstory just wants his eccentric, drug-using, criminal mom to smile, so he smiles. Of course, that doesn't happen, because reality is a thing. If you're a fan of this kind of film, kudos to you, but at this point, I was out of it.
Sinag Maynila 2019 Short Documentaries Short Reviews
At Home tells the story of Christian Apolinario, who won an award abroad for his short film. Apolinario contracted polio at an early age, which left him disabled. He recounts his experiences as a PWD in Australia (and how the country accommodates people like him) and his experiences in the Philippines (and how we really have a long way to go in terms of accommodating PWDs.) It's great stuff, even though it goes a little bit too long.
Entablado functions more as reminiscence than documentation, as it looks back at the grand old Manila Metropolitan Theater, currently undergoing a multi-million peso restoration. The footage and interviews are enlightening, and we get a look at the theater as it is being restored, a glimpse at a place we haven't been allowed access to for some time.
Last year I saw a film about professional wrestling in the Philippines, The Good, The Bad, and the Fabulous, about three PWR women wrestlers. Hope Spots tackles the same subject, though it views its subjects through a broader perspective and doesn't delve into the personal lives of the people involved like the former film does.
Andap is about a woman living with Alzheimers, and it is full of really powerful, poignant moments especially near the end. However, it feels overproduced and doesn't quite know when to end (I counted two credits sequences!) I think it's still worth a watch.
Tata Pilo tells the story of its titular character, a craftsman who makes a special type of hat called a Kattukong, most prominently worn by famous figures such as Diego Silang. While it does raise a number of important questions regarding the preservation of cultural traditions and identities, it's full of problems: the staged parts feel silly at times, the film meanders and feels unfocused, and it ultimately feels repetitive.
Hyatt: Mga Kuwento, Lihim at Katotohanan tells the story of the ill-fated Hyatt hotel in Baguio, which collapsed after the 1990 earthquake that shook most of Luzon. Filled with interviews of people present during the tragedy, it's tantalizing stuff, though I wish that the material could be expanded into a feature length film.
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