Cinema One Originals 2018 | Ash is Purest White

There's a scene in Ash is Purest White that lingers in the imagination. At the film's midpoint, the protagonist (Zhao Tao) is lured by the prospect of a different, quieter life, a life much more humdrum compared to the life of a jiang hu or gangster - the only life she has ever known. Ultimately, she declines this choice, unable to change. She sees UFOs in the clouds, and the connection makes a bit of sense: to the modern China she feels like an alien, watching over but unable to connect with the country metamorphosing in front of her.

Taking place over the course of seventeen years, Ash is Purest White is part crime drama, part semi-romance, part chronicle of a China undergoing rapid transformation. In the midst of all this are our protagonists, members of a small time gang operating in Shangxi. Soon it becomes clear as the world moves on that they are being left behind, and they are quickly becoming obsolete in a world that has no need for them.

This isn't the first time Jia Zhangke has tried to capture this feeling of change. His 2015 film Mountains May Depart also depicts a China in flux and the slow creep of Western civilization into Chinese culture. Jia is able to paint vivid pictures of contemporary China in the midst of one of its most profound transformations, acknowledging the transience of the moments in the film. In one scene we are treated to scenes of a riverside, while being made aware that these vistas will disappear after the completion of the Three Gorges Dam. This sense of impermanence lasts all the way until the end of the film, where even in a place where the old ways stubbornly cling to relevance, things seemingly eternal, like love, fade into nothing.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Restored Classics [Omeng Satanasia, Minsa'y Isang Gamu-gamo]

A Faustian bargain drives the story of Dolphy's 1977 film Omeng Satanasia. When an old scientist (Dolphy) fails to create an elixir of youth for himself, a gay demon (also Dolphy) offers him youth in exchange for his soul, that is unless he can find true love before a one year time limit expires. The rest of the film (clocking in at more than two and a half hours) consists of the youthful Gregory Casanova (also Dolphy) doing just that.

The film is mostly remarkable for garnering Dolphy his first (and in my recollection, only) FAMAS award for acting for playing four roles in this film. Granted, we don't really see much of the fourth character, an angel, but it counts. The movie itself hasn't aged quite as well, but there are a number of things that still stand out even today. For its time, its use of special effects and split screen techniques is impressive.

Dolphy's stories seem to always have a moral lesson to tell. In this case, it's the fact that money and youth don't always buy happiness. During the pre-screening program, Bibeth Orteza mentioned the fact that Dolphy was being considered for a National Artist nod, but the latest effort was rejected because he "romanticized poverty." This in my view is a ludicrous statement, considering the time in which these movies were made. His works were subversive in their own quiet, often comedic way. In particular, this film can be interpreted as a rejection of ill-gotten wealth, and that there are some things more precious than youth or money. That makes the final frames of the movie, a shot of Omeng with the only thing that he truly values, even more poignant.

The legendary Nora Aunor has numerous films under her belt, but this film in particular stands out from most of her other films, if only for its place in pop culture as the movie that had her saying "my brother is not a pig!" Without context, it sounds bizarre, but in the proper context the implication of that line is haunting and relevant even today. Minsa'y Isang Gamu-gamo is an essential postcolonial work, as it shows the lasting effects of the United States on our country.

The film mostly follows regular melodramatic conventions of the era, managing to use these conventions to bring about its intended patriotic message. The Philippines of Minsa'y Isang Gamu-gamo is a country with a significant foreign military presence still within its bounds, decades away from the eventual removal of a permanent US military presence in the country. Even though the Filipinos of this era are virtually treated like second class citizens in their own country, they defer to the colonizers and accept this perceived inferiority due to economic or pragmatic reasons.

But the film's characters soon assert themselves against the Americans and their sympathizers; in this context, "my brother is not a pig" is a declaration of humanity, of sovereignty, a statement of peers, not inferiors. The film goes on to show two examples of what can happen if we fight back, and the outcomes come off as a bit pessimistic: the first shows our propensity to compromise in the face of increasing pressure, the second shows how futile it can be, because of how lopsided the system is made to be. The reasons for these outcomes are varied and complex, but the ending scene can be interpreted as one example of a root cause for our irrational deference to former colonizers: we're hardwired to serve and be helpful.

The film also sears indelible images in its frames: a shot of F4s flying overhead, a kite, colored in the red,white and blue of both our flags, stained with blood, and Nora Aunor's enigmatic expression in the final frames of the film, searching for a sense of justice that proves elusive. 

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Double Twisting Double Back

Spoilers for those who haven't watched the film.

Though it's probably not intentional, Double Twisting Double Back begins with a shot of hands and limbs, preparing to do gymnastics. And in a way, it kinda reflects this movie as a whole: our hands are mirrors of each other, complementary yet opposites, the left hand clashing against the right. Yet one's grip is stronger, our balance, better, when both are working in tandem.

Badger (Tony Labrusca) is tapped to train in order to rejoin the Philippine National Gymnastics Team. We do not know why he was kicked out of the team, but we get hints here and there. Soon we learn that Badger's personality is fractured; his other self (Joem Bascon) is a satyromaniac. Badger tries to repress this other personality, but he only manages to make his other self more and more dangerous.

It's easy to dismiss Bascon's character as evil, but in some ways, he has a point: he wants Badger to lead a normal life with a normal job instead of risking his health and finances by engaging in gymnastics - a profession that, especially in the Philippine setting, is thankless. It's only in not accepting the balance between his two personas that Badger's other self becomes more and more unhinged. One can even argue that both Badgers are right and wrong, and both (and not just one of them) are living life on the edge - Labrusca's version engages in competition for little to no reward, while Bascon's version engages in risky sexual behavior, getting a number of STDs in the process.

The parallels between gymnastics and sex click on a conceptual level as well; in its infancy, gymnastics was performed in the nude, functioning as a sport and a tribute to the physical body. In comparison, casual sex is all about the body and the desire for it. The adrenaline rush of sports and the orgasmic rush of sex also intertwine in this film, and it's an interesting conceptual framework to base the movie on.

Parallels will also be drawn between this film and Black Swan (2010), and it does apply for most of the film. In most of professional sports, gymnastics is probably the closest to the performing arts, though this comparison reaches only so deep. Because once the film reaches its last third, things begin to get more abstract. Badger becomes even more unstable until he loses his grip on reality, fracturing his personality even more. Thanks to its increasing abstraction, there are a number of things and plot threads that were left poorly explained (but make sense if you pay attention and read the credits).

Though it spins out of control during the last part, Double Twisting, Double Back has a fascinating premise and is worth watching if only for decent performances from both leads.


edit 10/17: correction regarding terminology

Cinema One Originals 2018 | A Short History of a Few Bad Things

Keith Deligero's newest film is perhaps his most straightforward; while Iskalawags and Lily were both fractured recollections of memories past, this film, this film is, for all intents and purposes, a crime procedural, a Bisaya cop film about dealing with the ghosts of the past. When detective Tarongoy (Victor Neri) investigates a spate of mysterious deaths in Cebu City, he's roped into deeper (and more personal) shit than he expects.

Like Deligero's previous films, it's remarkable in the way it reframes genre in its own flavor, a flavor Manilenos may not be accustomed to: instead of the gritty streets of Makati or the squatter communities of Metro Manila, we get fantastic shots of Mactan Bridge, or a tense car ride through Colon, or sweeping panoramic shots of the Cebu metro.

It goes through the usual motions of cop procedural mystery dramas: the requisite red herrings are there, there's a hardass for a boss,  a seemingly naive sidekick, a mysterious female, and there are many fun false leads. Yet Deligero's punk sensibilities are also here: in terms of tone, it's quite similar to his earlier short film, Babylon. There's just enough humor and weirdness that it doesn't come off as too staid or serious.

There's also commentary here about the effects of trauma, and how emotional scars are just as substantial as their physical counterparts, and how guilt and the actions of the past contribute to our collective brokenness. It ends with a film within a film - perhaps the film we were really meant to watch - a film about wrongs righted and oppression avenged.

The film's technical aspects are decent, though some scenes come off as a bit too oversoundtracked - not every scene needs to have an accompanying song. It's an interesting addition to an already impressive body of work.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Pang-MMK

Fresh out of his stint at the Cinemalaya Institute, John Lapus' Pang-MMK is something like an application of all the things he's learned about filmmaking, and in that regard, it's actually decently made. 

The film serves as the sequel to one of the most popular episodes of MMK, otherwise known as Maalaala Mo Kaya, one of the Philippines' premiere drama shows. In that episode, Origami, a young boy has to deal with his dad having (and eventually choosing) a second family. The film continues that story decades later with the death of the father; the son (Neil Coleta) is tasked with organizing the wake and funeral arrangements.

The film reunites the original cast of the MMK episode: even Alwyn Uytingco, who played the original boy, appears in a cameo. The film explores the fascination and appeal behind true to life stories and how some stories are stranger than fiction, though the treatment is well-meaning parody at best, surface level banality at worst. There are some elements of family drama in the mix, though it's mostly played for laughs.

To be fair, there is character development and self realization with the central character, though that's sometimes drowned out by the comedy (and again to its credit the film can be quite funny in parts.) Pang-MMK is a film I've highly underestimated; but it's actually just OK, and that's the problem. It's a little too OK to stand out compared to the rest of this year's entries.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Paglisan

Cris (Ian Veneracion), a former theater actor and playwright, lives with Alzheimer's disease. His wife Oreng (Eula Valdez) has sacrificed everything to take care of him, but it's understandably taking its toll. When their son and his partner come to visit, and when Cris is tapped to perform in a musical theater presentation, the stress becomes too much to bear.

I've seen my share of love stories on screen this year, and the animated musical Paglisan ranks among the best of them, because it talks about the kind of love that sticks and endures, the kind of love that is selfless and ever-giving, the kind of love that starts like any other love, but matures into something greater. It's also one of two films this year that talks about the end of that love, or perhaps, an indication that while our bodies and minds may waste away and decay, love remains.

And when one thinks about it, Carl Papa's films have always juxtaposed the physical degradation  of the body and the robustness of the soul, contrasting that which is fragile to that which is resilient - in his earlier film Manang Biring for example, a woman dying of breast cancer still retains her love for her daughter. In this film, we have two lovers who want to love each other, who still love each other, but are constrained by the limits of their own minds and bodies. These constraints seep into their individual insecurities, especially during one heartbreaking song where Cris hopes that his tired wife will still love him when she wakes up.

The simplistic animation reflects this degradation: while it starts off properly colored and designed, the colors begin to get blurred, and these colors struggle to keep up with the outlines of the characters. Even the backgrounds get more and more abstract as Cris' mental faculties begin to fail. But this is capped off with a poignant moment, an affirmation of love delivered in one single line, and I think it's one of the best moments in Philippine Cinema this year.

Paglisan is a treat to watch, and it's my favorite Cinema One film so far in this year's edition. In the face of all these mumblecore neon-lighted love stories, it stands out above them as something unique, emotional, and heartfelt.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Fisting (a.k.a. Never Tear Us Apart)

It's quite telling that in Fisting (a.k.a. Never Tear Us Apart), there is an obvious aversion to showing faces. In fact, for all the characters except one, we do not see their faces until the very end. Through a smartphone-like aspect ratio, for the next 84 minutes we will get to know them through their bodies: the avatar-like image, defined by carnal and materialistic expectations, that they decide to project out into the world. The sole exception is the dominatrix (Jasmine Curtis), because we do not desire her for just her body - anyone who has tried out BDSM knows that the experience is as cerebral as it is carnal.

In that sense, Fisting tells the story of us through our bodies, in every nook and cranny, every tattoo commemorating a lost lover, every scar. Even though the framing and pictures look formal and staid, it manages to be a surprisingly intimate film.

That said, Fisting is a family drama that defines a family by its dysfunctions and kinks. Its final scene is a counterpoint to all the perversions that followed before: the picture-perfect image of a nuclear family, much like in the old American commercials of the 1950's. But beneath that surface, one might say that the only abnormal sexual profile is a completely normal one, and this family is anything but normal. The father, perhaps emasculated in his role as the head of the family, engages in roleplay and power fantasies, of dominating and being dominated. The mother's desires are dampened by boredom and ennui. And the son deals with his own sexual repression (there's a scene where he literally goes back into the closet, as if the metaphor wasn't obvious enough.) There seems to be a desire to tie in the son's sexual revolution to social revolution, and sexual repression to social oppression, but the overall effect of that is not as effective.

For all its seeming obtuseness, Fisting is actually Whammy Alcazaren's most realized and clear film, his family drama to Islands' hugot movie. It is definitely challenging material, but everything in this movie was made with a purpose in mind, and it's a fascinating movie to dissect.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Bagyong Bheverlynn

I read somewhere that the trashiness of Bagyong Bheverlynn was deliberate, that it's reliance on pop culture reference jokes and colloquial humor was intended. In that regard, Bagyong Bheverlynn succeeds: it's the kind of lowbrow movie that wouldn't feel out of place in the trashiest of trashy film festivals, the MMFF.

And to its credit, the film does have commentary about the hugot wave (or should I say typhoon?) that is ravaging the nation. Depicting the folly of toxic relationships where a woman is simply unable  to get over an obviously lousy, problematic love interest is also something I'm very passionate about, considering how many of these kinds of films we've been seeing recently *cough*thehowsofus*cough*. For once, there's a movie that's saying that we don't have to define ourselves by our relationships with other people; the most important thing is our own personal happiness and self worth.

But this film also falls into the trap that other films in this festival are also guilty of falling into: it tries a unique way of presenting its message and it fails. Comedy is like playing a finely tuned instrument; this film is the cinematic comedy equivalent of banging on a keyboard. The movie is basically a series of loosely connected gags that aren't really that funny. The audience reaction to this film when I saw it is quite telling - while there were a few chuckles during the first five minutes of the film, it was deathly silent in the theater for the next hour and a half. That is the sign of a joke quickly getting stale and tedious. Bagyong Bheverlynn feels like a joke that never ends, a bombing stand-up comedian that can't be shooed off a stage, a handjob that keeps on going even if you've already come.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Hospicio

Hospicio is the sequel to 2006's Numbalikdiwa, a film about a man who tries to resurrect the woman he loves with disastrous results. You don't need to see Numbalikdiwa to appreciate Hospicio, as it explains itself near the middle of the film, though it helps.

When Leslie (Loisa Andalio) is taken to a strange care facility, things can't get any more confusing: the rehailitation sessions are more chaotic than helpful, and her fellow patients are varied in their brokenness. There also seems to be divisions along generational lines: the older patients treat the facility like a home for the aged, while the younger crowd has a more varied range of dysfunctions, where criminal histories and mental disabilities mix and mingle: nymphomaniacs, kleptomaniacs and catatonic patients with depression. 

The film also seems to be trying to depict the generational divide we have in our own society. The older generation are self assured and self righteous, forcing what they think is the best for the younger generation, even though they serve their own self interests. Meanwhile the younger generation only want to live their lives in freedom in terms of sexual identity, moral standards and so on. It addresses whether the systems we have to rehabilitate serve only to incarcerate and trap people within the system instead.

The film's major failing, unfortunately, stems from its adherence to genre. It ultimately overwhelms the messages it is trying to impart. As a horror film, Hospicio falls apart. It relies too much on jump scares, neglecting to create an atmosphere for its horror. While jump scares are fine in controlled doses, after experiencing ten jump scares in a row, it's more annoying than terrifying. The film is also guilty of unintentional comedy, especially near the end when people start dying. That's kind of disappointing, considering that the film does have some promise.

Hospicio is a film with an identity crisis. If it's a metaphor or allegory for something, whatever it was trying to say has been drowned in the noise of its ill-timed jump scares and ineffective horror.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Asuang

First off, it's worth knowing that "Asuang" does not refer to the vampiric creature most of us are familiar with (though those kinds of Aswang are present in the film.) Instead, Asuang refers to the God of Sins in the Bicolano pantheon of gods, an evil god who wanted to steal the sacred fire of Mount Mayon from his brother Gugurang. Asuang the movie deconstructs this narrative, while keeping true to its characters. In the myth, Gugurang rules the people through fear and intimidation; in the film, he is a bully, unconcerned with the lives of men. In the myth, Asuang wanted to steal the sacred fire to gain favor with the people by giving fire to them; in the film, Asuang is a misunderstood figure, all too eager to please people in order to improve his self image.

The rehabilitation of Asuang's social image forms the impetus for the film: the entire enterprise is presented as a mockumentary, much in the style of Taika Waititi's 2014 film What We Do in the Shadows. It takes place in a world where gods live among men, guesting in TV shows, holding parties and social gatherings, and making cooking videos on Youtube. It also serves as a commentary on contemporary social media, in that social currency in the form of likes and followers becomes the raison d' etre for many people. Over the course of the film, Asuang comes to terms with the fact that this reason for living isn't all that it's cut out to be, and he eventually makes a decision to finish what he started in the old myths - not for personal glory or popularity, but because of a genuine concern for humanity.

There is also a contrast between the authoritarian Gugurang and the much more pro-people Asuang, perhaps drawing parallels to historical truths and contemporary events and serving as a take-down of authoritarianism in general. There's the contrast between the unfeeling god whose callous attitude indicates a summary judgement of people who have done bad things, and the misunderstood god whose capacity to empathize and understand people's capacity to change makes him superior.

The film is carried on the capable shoulders of Alwyn Uytingco, who plays the titular Asuang. He nails the comedy aspect of the film, and he shows Asuang's conflict quite well. He makes Asuang feel like a nice dark lord to hang out with. The supporting cast is also relatively capable, with many comedians having supporting or cameo roles. Perhaps the one thing that the film could have done better is explain the mythology behind the film - I only started to truly appreciate the picture the film paints after reading a bit on Bicolano myth.

Asuang is a fun film, and I learned something new today thanks to it. Give it a try, and stay for the end credits.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Mamu (and a Mother, Too)

Upon seeing the central conceit of Mamu (and a Mother, Too,) that of Mamu, a transgender prostitute who becomes a mother  figure to her recently orphaned niece, Bona, herself a transgender person. I expected a social realist tale, gritty and full of histrionics. I expected Bona and Mamu to spar verbally and clash as they tried to adjust to each other. But the film is nothing like that, and it's all the better for it; Mamu is a funny, gentle slice of life drama about a number of good people who just want to live in a world that continually tries to marginalize them.

The film feels rather aimless and meandering, but I mean that in a good way. Weirdly enough I found comparisons in tone to films like Hirokazu Kore-eda's fantastic Umimachi Diary (2015). The biggest character struggle that moves the story forward is Mamu's desire to get breast implants and attract more Johns. There is no real conflict between Mamu and Bona for most of the film, they actually get along quite well from the getgo, perhaps due to them identifying with each other. There really isn't a villain either; even Vincent (Arron Villaflor), Mamu's boyfriend who seemingly leeches from her, is ultimately a misunderstood character with issues of self worth.

This leads to the third and final act where conflict does happen, and thanks to the way Mamu and Bona's relationship is portrayed (or not portrayed,) it feels a little unearned. Despite the nature of the scenes that follow (scenes that will no doubt shock some viewers), it's a tender and powerful statement on the lengths parents (even surrogate parents) will go to for the sake of their children.

This treatment is also the movie's greatest strength, in that it subverts the usual audience expectations for conflict and oppression. Within the communities of this film, there's a sense of acceptance that other films struggle to portray. There's a sense of sisterhood, of camaraderie, a sense of bayanihan and community that exists because the characters of Mamu have no one else to lean on but each other. There are hints of of the larger, harsher world beyond, such as when Mamu attends the funeral of a friend killed by an American soldier - but there is a feeling of safety here in this place Mamu and her friends have created for themselves. 

And there is kindness in this film. I have to repeat my description of the film earlier, for emphasis - for all its hilarity, Mamu is a very gentle film, full of characters that just want to live, even when job opportunities are scarce or limited. Aside from its central message of motherhood and sexual awakening, the film manages to tackle issues about the dangers of sex work, and the difficulty that transgender people face when finding employment in general.

Mamu is a fine addition to Cinema One Originals, and a film that I have grossly underestimated. It's a great start to the fest. True? True.

Cinema One Originals 2018 | Shorts A and B

It's time for Cinema One Originals! Nine feature length films and twelve short films, as well as a large selection of restored local films, international films, and other special releases are showing at select cinemas from October 12-21. For this entry, we'll be talking about both sets of short films. Some of the films in this list have been part of other festivals that have come out this year; links to reviews of those films will be given, if available.

Cinema One Originals 2018 Short Shorts Reviews

Set A

(I arrived late to the first screening of Shorts A, so unfortunately I was unable to see either Wall or Ketchup.)

Joji Alonso's Last Order is a film about endings: it chronicles the last few moments of a doomed restaurant. It's shot in one take, and viewed mostly through the eyes of a waiter (Nico Antonio) as he deals with regulars, annoying customers and the occasional weirdo as he faces the fact that he's out of a job. In showing us just the ending, one wonders what the restaurant used to be before its fate was sealed.

In Para Kay James we learn about the titular character posthumously, through flashbacks: a dutiful son, an affectionate lover, a lonely and broken individual. The film charts the course of James' life and explores the many factors that led to his demise in terms of sexual identity, interpersonal conflicts and issues with depression and mental health. Whatever the case may be, James is gone to the people who loved him and the people he loved, and he's not coming back.

3021's usage of Star Wars terminology may be a bit off putting, but this quirky and weird lo-fi science fiction film does manage to worldbuild a bit before making obvious parallels to current events and the post truth world. The ending is strange and psychedelic, a mix of the endings of 2001 and Eye of the Serpent.

And to round off Set A, we have Wala'y Humayan sa Tanglad from the Binisaya film festival. It starts off as a hybrid of documentary and found footage as we follow two journalists as they investigate the secret of "miracle rice" and the people who grow it. It's relatively light at first and a bit tongue in cheek, but then things escalate quickly and they turn into something that legitimately chilled me. It might be my favorite film of either set.

Set B

Nangungupahan was part of this year's Cinemalaya Film Festival. Glenn Barit's film is inventive stuff, worth watching again to catch extra details, and pretty heartwarming at the same time.

Unfortunately, the subtitles for Bagane Fiola's Pulangui cut off after a few minutes, leaving the movie basically untranslated. but the lush black and white visuals and context clues make up for the lost translation, at least a little bit. A river runs through the community at the center of the story, and there seem to be parallels with that river and the act of crossing over to the healing process brought about by peace in a wartorn land.

The sole animated entry to this year's shorts, Wag Mo Akong Kausapin tells the story of an old man wracked by the guilt of his past wrong decisions. Only this time, his insecurities take physical form: a dark entity that hounds and taunts him as he tries to reconcile with his son. His internal struggle comes to a head when his realization or catharsis comes with a price. While the animation is simple, it's expressive and fluid.

Sa Pag-agos ng Panahon was part of this year's Viddsee Juree Awards. Its conflict between personal belief and identity is emotionally loaded and well shot.

To Remain is to Have Been Left was part of this year's Cinemalaya Institute Short Films section. It's a bit loopy (ha, that was a pun) but it's wide open to interpretation and says a lot  about helping one's self and the importance of that notion in preserving mental health.

In Manila is Full of Men Named Boy, a man hires a teenager to act as his son in front of his very macho father. He is then 'boy' both in name and temperament, especially when the faux child threatens to usurp his place in the social ladder, as the boy can do things the man cannot. Issues of acceptance, identity and absurdity abound in this short film, one of the best of this year's edition.

And finally, we have another entry from this year's Viddsee Juree Awards, Ang Mga Turo ng Gabi (a.k.a. Lessons of the Night,) which won the silver prize in that competition. Having watched this film three times now, it's easy to see why. It's a compelling story that's packed nicely into a short time frame. It's well worth recommending.

That's it for this year's Cinema One Shorts. Up next, the feature length films.