It's surprising that A Catholic Schoolgirl is Myra Angeline Soriaso's debut film, because the filmmaking at play feels so precise. It helps that the ground it treads is well trodden, about intersections of identity and faith in a coming-of-age. There is a confession at the end of this film - usually accepted without judgement by a priest as a representative of a loving God - and it is met with exactly what we expect. In the many iterations of this tale, trauma sadly seems to be a defining trait of these comings-of-age.
The defining frames for me in Apa Agbayani's Abutan Man Tayo ng House Lights is that of Jon Santos dancing to exhaustion, as if his effort could chase the light away from the comforting dark of the dance floor. The inertia of a relationship that has run its course is the hardest to overcome because it means one has to face the end of something, or everything. Without Santos or Bart Guingona this probably would not have worked, but they're here, and it does.
Animal Lovers leans on absurdity, on humans that have abandoned love and even their own humanity. But there's a real danger here in the process of dehumanization, especially for those in the most unfortunate circumstances, and regarding exactly where the film gazes. The absurdity alleviates that for the most part, but it has left me with a few reservations with how everything turned out.
I'll be honest and say I initially struggled with the ideas of Microplastics, so much so that before I even dared to write this (this entire piece was meant to come out earlier) I watched it another time to give it a fair shot. The second time around I gleaned more from the film. It's said that microplastics can be found in all of us, even before we're born; imperceptible damage that accumulates over time, borne from careless actions. In that same way, that is how trauma destroys us, in small actions of love denied, rejected, in casual acts of violence. Some have read a particular part of the film as representing sexual violence, but it didn't read that way to me, it felt more like a manifestation of self hatred, being denied love leading to one denying love in the first place. I'm not sure if it all held together in the end, but it's better than I initially thought it was.
Tamgohoy is Roxlee directing his own RRR, a fictional reimagining of two historical figures who have never met, joining forces to fight against colonial masters. With his trademark animation, Zaldy Munda level editing and out of focus shots, the film is steeped in native traditions and rituals. Meanwhile, Roxlee himself, made up like a Catholic Heath Ledger Joker, taunts the natives and calls them savages. How exactly can one evaluate the form of a film whose creator has disposed of it entirely, when that seems to be the point? It's as if the film's own form rejects the western conventions of cinema, decolonizing through filmmaking. Does it work? Not fully. But the least I can say is I kinda like it.
We end this slew of reviews with Che Tagyamon's Tumatawa, Umiiyak - an animated film that sees how class disparities bleed into urban topographies, where even the dead have more space than the living, as long as they're rich enough. It's challenging, thought provoking stuff and a film that quite a few people have overlooked on account of its animated form.
No comments:
Post a Comment