rotban

Friday, October 30, 2020

Notes on Daang Dokyu Film Festival: Taboo

 


Taboo is a word that carries a lot of weight. In some ways, it implies silence, because it relates to people or things that are simply not talked about. In some ways, it implies invisibility, ghosts moving about a hidden world. But to be silent or to confer invisibility denies people their dignity; and the documentarian's job then becomes one who speaks or lets others speak, and one who shines a light on invisible people.

Nick Deocampo's Oliver (1983) does just that thing, showing us in all its unfiltered glory the life and trials of its titular subject. While Oliver gyrates, impersonates and does all sorts of entertaining, at times shocking acts, we are reminded that he does this for the sake of his family. Ultimately, his acts are a transaction, exchanged for monetary gain. But beyond that  the film explores how its subject grapples with identity and gender, topics that would have been normally talked about differently in 1983, making this film a radical act in itself.

One constant running through both Oliver and the next film we will discuss is the limbo where sex workers dwell. The promise of what looks like easy money in exchange for flesh is a trap, and societal structures are rigged against these people escaping the trap, ensuring that the cycle will perpetuate itself anew. In Pabelle Manikan's Dreaming in the Red Light (2019), this trap extends across generations. The mother-daughter subjects of the film know that sex work brings with it certain prejudices and connotations, but the lure of sex work draws some of them like moths drawn to a red-lit flame.

People stay silent because of societal taboos, an internalized shame built on wrong or misguided assumptions. With this silence comes an anxiety at the thought that either one's self or a loved one may be afflicted with something considered taboo, and the documentaries Invisible (2019) and All Grown Up (2018) tackle this in different ways, and the latter in particular leads to particularly heartwarming and profound moments.

There are people who are invisible but want to be seen, in the case of Jose Antonio Vargas' Documented (2013). I saw this in Cinemalaya and it is even more resonant in Trump's America, where the status of immigrants, illegal or not (and also by choice or not) is more gray than black and white.

Child soldiers occupy invisible spaces. They are embroiled in conflicts often not by their own choice. They join these conflicts forcibly, or through social pressures, or in some cases, through a personal desire to fight oppression. Mga Batang Mandirigma (2004) chronicles the transition from normal life, to child soldier, back to normal life - or at least a life as normal as possible.

To end this batch of documentaries we have Dory (2017), a short glimpse into the life of an aging trans woman near the end of her life. While before we talked about invisible people and silence, we get a glimpse of what it feels like in reverse: to live a life where friends and family have mostly passed on, where almost everyone we know is gone or silent. The result is a heartbreaking look into loneliness and the double bladed sword of old age.

Daang Dokyu is a month long film festival celebrating 100 years of Filipino Documentary film. For more information, visit their official website.

No comments: