It is perhaps one of the greatest pitfalls of a biographical film that it becomes a hagiography - in that it portrays its subject as a saint and not as a flawed human being. The Last Interview: The Mayor Antonio Halili Story does not fall into that trap, because it seems to be actually tailored to make you not like the character; the man in the film is portrayed as a well meaning douche. One could think that this film is a mean spirited attempt at character assassination, but then again, the original intentions seem to be to portray its subject as a good guy, so we'll chalk this one up to general incompetence on the filmmakers' part and a glaring lack of self awareness.
Like last year's sylvan masterpiece of wooden acting Ang Misyon: A Marawi Siege Story, director Ceasar Soriano has once again chosen a topic about a relevant event and predictably botches the landing like a drunk chimpanzee landing a 747. Last year, the Mayor of Tanauan, Batangas was shot and killed during a flag ceremony. The man had a penchant for parading drug suspects, and although he was publicly supportive of the country's drug war, he was linked to illegal drugs himself (even though no evidence to that effect ever came out to the public.) His killers have never been found.
The film is framed as a pseudo-documentary: most of the movie is a flashback to Halili's life and his journey towards political leadership. John Estrada takes the lead role. Director Soriano himself takes a role as the interviewer, as if the movie was an episode of his PTV show Magandang Gabi, Pilipinas. Again, someone used to Filipino biopics would perhaps expect a hagiography, portraying its subject as a virtuous person - but there is a disconnect between what the film wants to show us and what we really see. If anything, it says a lot about the logic and mindset of people supporting the drug war.
The flashbacks literally start with an elementary school age Halili beating up another kid. The film tries to justify this in an unconvincing scene where his father tells his mother that it's okay that Halili beat up that kid, because that kid was a bully and his son was protecting other people. In any other situation, this kid would be seen as a violent thug and not as a valiant protector. Lesson #1: it's okay to inflict violence on other people, as long as it's against the right people. This theme is maintained throughout the flashback sequences as we see Halili beat up people a few more times. The second time we see this, we are not given a reason why he is beating up said person - we are just led to believe that since it's Halili doing the beat down, that person deserves it.
A sideplot involves Halili's cousin being raped and tortured by a number of nameless bad guys, but we don't know who they are, and the cousin is used as an excuse to justify Halili's tough stance on crime. Shame, then, that we don't really know what happened to that case, and the dead cousin is promptly forgotten. Lesson #2: It's enough to be angry at injustice, and that anger takes precedence over the actual dispensation of justice.
Halili finds his sweetheart (portrayed at different ages by Kate Alejandrino and Ara Mina) by aggressively courting her. (And by aggressive, I also mean that they bond through Halili beating up several people. It's kind of a trend at this point.) They eventually get married, but then the film inexplicably shows a scene where Halili cheats on her with another woman. Halili is clearly caught in the act, but it's somehow solely the mistress' fault. This is also played up for laughs, considering the accompanying soundtrack. The rest of the film forgets this scene and emphasizes their great romance. Lesson #3: when a man cheats, it's always someone else's fault, and it is just a case of men being men, with no negative impact to their character whatsoever.
When Halili finally does become mayor, he makes good on his promise and cracks down hard on criminality. We get anecdotal footage of people telling us that hey, the mayor's methods kinda work. Soriano frames Halili as an action star, actively taking part in these operations with an M-16 slung over his shoulder, even though there isn't any reason to believe he actually participated this deeply. Lesson #4: "tough guy" politicians see themselves as the action stars of their own movies, a fantasy that seems to be a way to compensate for some psychological complex.
This leads to the parading of suspects that Halili was famous for. The film's 'logic' holds true up to this point. Since these alleged (emphasis on alleged since they haven't been convicted) users and pushers are the bad guys, it's okay to disregard their human rights, even though ironically the film shows footage of a prisoner saying yeah, we have rights too. That doesn't matter, of course. The film does address that there are people that criticize Halili's methods, but this is dismissed quickly, with our erstwhile mayor stating that the people who criticize him must be involved in drugs, too. In this context, this feeling of self-righteousness and entitlement makes sense. Lesson #5: Elected officials are the official, unassailable arbiters of what's right and wrong, and if you criticize them, rightfully or not, you must be an enemy as well and deserve no rights.
This proves to be ironic as Halili himself gets tagged in the administration's narcolist. It's unclear how or why he is involved in said list, as the film chalks it up to "political blabla" (an actual line in the film) and political persecution (by whom, the film never says.) Faced with the possible end of his political career, there's a scene where Halili sees a political future for his daughter, but only because she's his daughter. Nothing in the movie tells us why she deserves that position, she apparently deserves it because of Lesson #5. Lesson #6: Political dynasties are justified. I guess. Considering that his daughter did eventually win as mayor during the recent election, that says a lot about how people think about it.
Soriano uses mostly competent actors this time, which only exacerbates the the fact that it makes the non-actors even worse by contrast. Imagine award-winning actor Noel Comia Jr. delivering his lines alongside a couple of human shaped robots and you'll get an idea how ridiculous it looks like. And it's not hard to see why these non-actors lack the direction needed to give a convincing performance: Soriano himself has the acting prowess of a damp sponge. On the technical side, the film is actually a giant step up from Soriano's previous film, but that's relatively speaking.
The film ends with actual footage of Halili's death, which feels overly graphic and insensitive to its subject. I personally never knew the former mayor; all I know is what the film tells me. For all I know he might have actually been a truly upstanding individual, a respectable public official and a model citizen, who did good by the citizens of Tanauan. It's just that this tone-deaf failure of a biopic doesn't do him or his legacy any favors. It's poorly made, poorly directed, and comes from a place of smug condescension and a total lack of awareness. Whether one is for or against the drug war, there's nothing in this film that caters to either audience, because it sucks. And given that literally no one saw this film (I saw this film alone in an otherwise empty theater) I think audiences picked up on that, too.
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