Cinemalaya 2017 Closing Thoughts

Another year, another Cinemalaya done. This year probably isn't going to be hailed as a landmark year for the film fest or anything like that, but the lineup has a few really impressive offerings that make it a Cinemalaya worth seeing.

Cinemalaya and the Cinema of Change

The local independent film landscape has changed drastically. Cinemalaya is now the old stalwart of indie film fests. Many filmmakers have flocked over to fests like Cinema One Originals and QCinema, who have helped make some very interesting films in the past 2 or so years. The Cinemalaya foundation gives filmmakers a grant of 750,000 pesos, and limits their overall budget to something like 3.5 million. I can't tell you if more money necessarily correlates to a better film; there's no empirical proof of that. I can tell you that a couple of films (such as Sa Gabing Nananahimik ang mga Kuliglig) did some amazing things with that miniscule budget, and some filmmakers would probably be undeterred by this notion anyway.

Our country has changed as well in the past year - we have entered an era of impunity, of false news, of fanaticism and misplaced nationalism. We have made an entire segment of the population into boogeymen. And like all forms of art, the cinema of today reflects the zeitgeist in varied and interesting ways. In depicting this change, the movies featured here (and elsewhere) also highlight the sobering fact that many things still remain the same: the widening gap between rich and poor, the lack of justice for the poor and marginalized, the incompetence and corruption in government.

The Emergence of Discourse

Art exists as a means by which we wrestle with our societal problems, to find solutions to change society for the better, and in the themes of the many films in this year's festival, we get just that: neocolonialism, changing definitions of masculinity, the inhumanity of bureaucratic social systems, the unchanging cycle of violence and impunity, the importance of education as a universal right, the concept of otherness, the gnawing societal frustration that leads to vigilantism and lawlessness.

On the flipside, there are also lighthearted films that seek to entertain, or to tell a compelling, personal story. I think these films are just as valid and are part of the discourse as well.

The emergence of social media and the internet has led to a widespread democratization of film appreciation and film criticism. When I started blogging about films (and other stuff) in 2005, there were only a handful of us blogging about Philippine Cinema, and my contemporaries at the time were far better than I am to be honest. 12 years later, anyone with internet access has an opinion about films. Sites like Twitter and Facebook serve as outlets for cinephiles for their film opinions, while longer pieces stay with blogs like this one. I'm also happy to have met a lot of these people in real life during this particular festival; these are people that have never seen in person, but I have read their works for years. It was a joy talking about the films we watched, even though our opinions were wildly divergent. I guess that's where the fun really is; you can't really have proper discourse if you're not talking to someone else. Right?

More than ten years watching this festival and I know I'm getting older. I'm not the avid festival goer that I was five years ago who would go every single day and watch every single film. But this festival will always have a special place in my heart. The crowds may have thinned, the food stalls may not be as numerous, but I'll keep coming as long as I can.

...and I'll always have Gardenia. Because Gardenia is life.

THIS IS NOT A SPONSORED POST LOL

Cinemalaya 2017 Quickies: CFI films, Please Remember Me, Pastor

We begin this short entry with the films of this year's Cinemalaya Institute. The institute holds classes for filmmakers of every stripe in such fields as directing, cinematography and so on. This year's batch of offerings wasn't as extensive compared to the last time I saw the CFI in 2015; in fact the screening was barely an hour long. Apparently there were less classes this year compared to last year.

We were shown entries from the cinematography and directing classes. For the latter, directors had to shoot a scene in black and white telling a simple, character driven story.

I wont go over all the individual films, but my personal favorites include 3:15, about a security guard and a mysterious tenant, Takas, which is exactly what it says on the title, and Kinsenas Katapusan, which manages to fit in a classic assassin's story in 10 minutes or less. The films feature relatively well known actors and actresses and looking at the production credits, the films also had crew from the TV and film industry, so the films themselves have an impressive amount of technical support.

I'll be looking forward to the CFI next year. Hopefully the volume of entries will be more substantial.

The last Asia Visions film for this year's Cinemalaya is the documentary Please Remember Me by Zhao Qing. It's a very simple and sweet story about an elderly couple based in Shanghai. The husband, Feng, has taken care of his wife Lou for many years. Lou has Alzheimer's disease, and over time it has led her to forget most of the people around her.

Feng's increasing age has made him unable to properly take care of his wife, and this has led him to consider intermittent stays in nursing homes. Throughout the film we see the couple struggle to fit into their new lifestyle, as Lou's condition slowly deteriorates.

But the film isn't dreary or depressing. Instead, the film is filled with happy moments. Feng and Lou are the sweetest old couple one can find, and their interactions are both warm and fuzzy and heartbreaking at the same time. This is a couple that knows they are in the twilight of their lives and have decided to make the best of it. I personally could not wish for anything more from a partner.

We also see a glimpse of how the elderly are cared for in mainland China. With a population poised to move from an industrialist state with a rapidly growing population to something more like Japan, populations are sure to get older over time.

Please Remember Me is a documentary in its purest form: no pretensions, no twists or gimmicks, just a heartfelt personal story of two people that is relateable and endearing.

Cinemalaya 2017 ends with Adolfo Alix's latest film, Pastor. The film reunites Phillip Salvador and Gina Alajar, who have starred together in such landmark films as Lino Brocka's Bayan Ko: Kapit sa Patalim (1984). It took a long time to get off the ground, predating Alix's earlier films such as Ang Alamat ni China Doll (2013).

Pastor draws inspiration from the Story of Job, where a man's faith is tested again and again by God. It draws inspiration from other biblical stories as well - the prodigal son, the temptation of Jesus in the desert, the story of Lot and his wife. Its interpretation of personal change and the uncertainty of personal redemption is obvious, especially within its final few frames.

There's a certain clever metafictional conceit in having Salvador in this role. Salvador is best known as an action star, the guns blazing, kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out type. The opening and ending scenes serve as glimpses of that previous life. (Whether it also reflects a yearning for that previous life is up to your interpretation.) Far removed from his action movie days, Salvador is now a Born Again Christian. In many ways, his journey reflects the journey of the pastor character in this film.

That said, the film suffers from a plethora of story problems. The film doesn't quite know if it wants to be a faith based film or a film that seeks to doubt that faith. Many scenes feel awkward or unintentionally hilarious - a certain police raid scene ends up extremely rough in its execution. And some scenes end up stretching my disbelief too much, as a moviegoer and as a medical professional.

Like the titular pastor's faith, Pastor the film is extremely conflicted. While it has moments of greatness, it's bogged down by weird storytelling decisions.

***

next up: Cinemalaya winners and Closing Thoughts.

Cinemalaya 2017: Animahenasyon Program 2, Turah, A Gift

On the penultimate day of Cinemalaya 2017, I decided to take a look at the Animahenasyon program. They feature a multitude of entries that run the gamut from thesis films, 2D and 3D animations and so on. I haven't personally known the Philippines to have such a rich pool of animation talent, but this array of short films quickly proved me wrong.

Bahay Kubo is filled with statistics and pretty drawings, which collectively is pretty cute. There are some weird statistics that really don't have anything to do with the subject at hand (like what does the status of indie filmmakers have anything to do with maternal mortality?) but I'll take it anyway. Then it gets really dark by the end.

Inday Wanda reads like the concept to an interesting comic book or TV series, but doesn't really go further than the concept. The basic premise was pretty nice though.

Ang Lalong Ni Kulakog is about a cock... and/or rooster. My memory is fuzzy, but one or the other spits out magical rainbows. It's done in CGI and is obviously a student film, but yeah, I'll take it. 

Building Too is like a really cool music video about people (most probably millennials) hanging out and doing stuff in the metro~ like going to pubs and shit at night and meeting in discos. I actually love this short because of how nicely the animation flows.

Sulundon is about a boy and his father. The boy loves boxers (the sportsmen, not the briefs), the dad is a referee and the kid resents him for that. It's done really nicely, and the animation is actually quite good. Things end up in dark places by the end, so that puts a damper on things, but overall I think this is one of the best ones of the lot.

Baka Nasa Labas si Ramil is about innocence in the midst of conflict. It was made by students in Zamboanga, so it really captures the mood down there in the south. It also escalates quickly by the end.

Josephine, made by the same guys that animated Saving Sally, is quite gorgeous; it looks sleek and professional, arguably the most polished of the lot. The story is largely symbolic but it's still pretty nice.

...then the earthquake happened and we evacuated. Shortly after, we continued with...

Milkyboy, directed, written and animated by Arnold Arre, is my favorite animation of this batch. You may know Arre more as a komikero, responsible for such works as The Mythology Class and Ang Mundo ni Andong Agimat, but he's made his share of animated works too. Milkyboy, the story of an advertising guy who struggles with life and love, has influences from both comics and anime. Some of the realistic backgrounds reminded me of a Shinkai film. I'm just amazed I haven't seen this one yet.

I've already covered Geo during the 2015 MMFF New Wave festival, and I still think it's pretty cool and sweet. Moms really are heroes to many of their children.

Pasintabi is about a boy and his lolo and three supernatural Nuno sa Punso who decide to curse him. It goes on for a little too long for my taste, but the animation is good nevertheless.

We Give In Sometimes is a music video for the Up Dharma Down song of the same name, and in some ways is the ending song to the whole set. It's got this nice Japanese/Chinese traditional art aesthetic going for it that I found really entertaining to watch. Of course, the music is Up Dharma Down, what's not to like?

***

The Indonesian film Turah begins and ends with an obituary; an occurrence that normalizes death in a quiet riverside community. We soon get accustomed to the rhythms of life in the village. The titular character, Turah, is the community's de facto leader, helping various villagers with their problems.

Yet one immediately sees the problems with the setup of this village. As it is located in a remote area, it doesn't exactly fall within the jurisdiction of the government. An early scene shows government workers taking a census, but when confronted with the question of why they haven't brought basic necessities to the village, the government official answers with "it's not my problem." The lack of government support has led to a relationship with a rich landowner that is both oppressive and a bit feudalistic. The title has meaning as well - in Javanese, "Turah" means leftover, which describes the plight of these people well.

Things come to a head when the village drunk, Jadag, speaks out against this unfair system. While Jadag is far from paragon -he is by all accounts a cantankerous, incorrigible old man - he does have a point. The story is relatively simple, and the conclusion serves as an appropriate bookend to the film. It shows the powerlessness of those at the bottom-most rungs of society, when the systems that should work to serve us fail us horribly.

Cinemalaya has been (and always will be) an exhausting, but fun experience in the ten or so years I've been going to the festival. But sometimes the dreariness of the film choices kinda pulls you down (last year, while impressive, was an egregious example). So it comes with a bit of relief that the last film I saw today, A Gift, is for the most part, festive, feel-good and entertaining. It's not particularly deep or substantial - I mean, this isn't an Apichatpong film by any means - but hey, I was in the mood and I dug it.

A Gift is a warmhearted collection of three interconnected stories, each based on a piece of music composed by the late King Bhumibol Adulyadej. All three stories are rooted in a different genre: the first is a romantic comedy, the second, a melodrama, and the last part is a straight up comedic piece.

The first part is about a guy and a girl who meet during rehearsals for a relatively high profile dinner. The relationship of the two leads builds up well, and is quite charming, even though it's rooted in mainstream rom com sensibilities. And despite that, the two characters grow closer together organically and it never feels forced. The film's denouement, though incomplete thanks to the limited running time, is pragmatic instead of overtly whimsical.

The second part, about a woman taking care of her father with Alzheimer's, can be pretty poignant at times. The last scene in particular is quite the effective tearjerker (I find that the Thais are pretty good at this, if you've seen any of their commercials on Facebook or Youtube). Nittha Jirayungyurn carries this part on her shoulders with a pretty effective performance. 

The third part is an all-out wacky comedy about a retired rock musician who gets dragged into leading a band by his bank co-workers. The timing of this segment is an appropriate counter to the heavy drama of the second part, so it's a welcome treat. The third segment ends up being the weakest of the three segments, as it doesn't have the time to develop its characters as much as the other two parts. Still, it's a pretty nice way to close things out.

Technically, the film is sound. the musical score is pretty good, and the King's songs are actually quite catchy (the filmmakers even obtained royal permission to use the songs). Overall, the film is cute and charming and a definite crowd pleaser. My expectations were really low coming in to this film, and coming out I was pleasantly surprised and entertained. I really can't ask for anything more in that regard.

Cinemalaya 2017 + Eiga Sai 2017: Poolside Man, The Painter's View

How does one dissect chaos? When I look at crimes committed by lone perpetrators, there are times when I cannot fathom the reasons behind their outrageous acts. The titular character of Hirobumi Watanabe's Poolside Man is one such cipher. He is literally wordless as he does not speak a single line, and he barely reacts to the people around him. 

The film uses the apparent repetition of shots to create a sense of habit as the Poolside Man goes about a daily routine that almost never breaks. Yet the shots are slightly different - as one realizes that these sequences take place during different days. The first runthrough establishes the contents of the habit; the second establishes its nature as a routine. This extended setup takes more than half of the running time, and can be a challenging watch.

Within its black and white frames, our character becomes a blank slate onto which the rest of the world is imprinted. News reports of terrorist attacks saturate his day, yet when juxtaposed with the mundaneness of his daily life, the horrible news feels remote. We see the Poolside Man go to daily screenings of films that involve war and chaos, yet we do not see the movie itself - we only hear the sounds of gunfire and death. The tediousness of this first half serves a purpose, creating the film's initial sense of emptiness, the title character defined by his ennui.

The repetition breaks when his mundane world is interrupted by a coworker who joins him when he is assigned to a different pool. By this time, the film is almost done, and that's probably my biggest problem with the film: it's too overlong, too tedious, stretching out everything so much that by the end my ennui matched the Poolside Man's. The film concludes with a number of striking images, but the character arc of the Poolside Man doesn't exactly pay off or pull through with the momentum it had been building for almost two hours. 

Poolside Man is a film that takes its viewers on a ride to nowhere. While I liked its general structure and experimental feel, it didn't lead to anything profound or meaningful in the end.

While probably a relative unknown here in the Philippines, Lee Jung-seob is one of Korea's greatest and most legendary modern painters. The documentary A Painter's View examines his life as he wanders South Korea during the aftermath of the Korean war, separated from his wife and two children.

Lee's art pervades the short 66 minute film. During the postwar period he drew on anything he could - foil cigarette wrappers, exam papers, scrap - works that are now featured in New York's Museum of Modern art.

He sent postcards to his wife, who had opted to stay in Japan, and these postcards were filled with scribbles and cartoony drawings. These postcards and the words that sometimes accompanied them are heartfelt and sincere.

Lee's life is mostly told mostly through narration, rarely through interviews and sometimes through reenactments. While some of the scenes are indeed fascinating, for the most part it's a standard documentary. Lee died alone and penniless in the 50's, but his works have since gone on to received critical praise, with Lee's style helping create a modern art aesthetic that Koreans can proudly call their own.

Cinemalaya 2017: Ang Pamilyang Hindi Lumuluha, Above it All

These days, every Cinemalaya has one movie with a really big star, and this year it's the one and only Megastar Sharon Cuneta, who hasn't been in a feature film since 2009-2010. Her comeback comes in the form of Mes de Guzman's Ang Pamilyang Hindi Lumuluha, where she plays a mother seeking to reconnect with her family.

The movie starts off with a number of jokes, mostly coming from the inspired pairing of Sharon and Hatima "Moi Bien" Marcampo. Thanks to excellent performances from both actresses, it's all quite hilarious, and the hilarity continues for most of the film. And the jokes go on... and on... and on.

And while the laughs do provide a generally fun, lighthearted source of entertainment, the film has several structural problems. Everything is tied together too loosely, the plot existing to serve the jokes instead of the other way around. One wonders how exactly can Sharon's familial problems be solved by  reuniting the titular Family, but the film glosses through the admittedly convoluted explanation with a vague notion of 'they bring good luck'. Then more jokes ensue.

Behind the laughter is a vulnerable, lonely woman who has sought love from her family and friends, only to get nothing in return. Sharon's performance is wonderful during the rare moments when her facade cracks, showing the damaged woman underneath. Those are the moments that stuck with me the most instead of the comedic scenes, and I think the film could have gained a bit more nuance had it built up its characters more. And with such characters, the film's resolution comes almost as a deus ex machina, where everything sorts itself out somehow instead of, for example, having the new people in Sharon's character's life help her out in more direct ways.

A crowd pleaser through and through, Ang Pamilyang Hindi Lumuluha will no doubt entertain fans and casual movie goers. However, it is basically a loosely knit patchwork of funny scenes with a thin plot holding it up, which at least to me was disappointing, considering the fact that the Megastar has an impressive body of work behind her, such as the excellent Crying Ladies (2003), which mixed humor and a solid dramatic story. In any case, with the Megastar gearing up to make more independent films in the future, I remain optimistic.

The original title for Anysay Keola's 2015 film Above it All is Noy, which refers to two characters with that name. One is a medical student who is having trouble coming out as gay to his family, while the other is a Hmong woman who must make a decision between true love and supporting her family by getting married to a complete stranger.

One of the few Marxist-Leninist states left in the world, Laos is a country with a turbulent history. In the course of that history, human rights have been violated and ethnic minorities have been marginalized. The film seeks to give people from these marginalized groups their own stories. It tries to show the how these people face discrimination, or how they deal with social taboos. 

The film has a tendency to meander with its two stories. The lack of focus slows the film down, much to its detriment. Certain dramatic scenes fall a little flat thanks to this habit. The sound was extremely loud in some scenes, though I've yet to determine if this was more a technical problem than a problem with the film itself.

The international title, Above it All, serves the movie well: in seeing beyond petty biases or discriminatory ideas about race or gender, the characters of the film see the shared humanity that we all possess underneath. 

***

That ends my coverage of the competition films, but I'll still be watching Cinemalaya's exhibition films until Saturday, with a short break today. See you guys tomorrow.

Cinemalaya 2017: Kiko Boksingero, Maestra

At a lean 76 minutes, Kiko Boksingero is the shortest full length film in this year's Cinemalaya. Its story is simple enough that I think it could have worked as a short film. But surprisingly, Kiko Boksingero packs a lot of emotion and heart into its modest running time, and is filled with tons of heartfelt, deeply affecting moments.

The film isn't really about boxing. It's a character study of a boy who is desperately looking for someone to love him after the death of his mother. This leads him to try to reconnect with his father, a professional boxer. 

The film's greatest merit is in how spartan it is, trimming away all the fat and filler and concentrating on its central drama. It does not meander into grand melodramatic set pieces, instead opting to stay in small, personal moments instead. The film tends to show rather than tell, easing the audience into their own realizations instead of resorting to needless exposition. And ultimately, it leads into some really heartwarming payoffs near the end. The boxer, so to say, has maintained his weight and packs a solid dramatic punch.

The whole cast deserves merit, but Noel Comia Jr. and Yayo Aguila both deserve praise for their roles as Kiko and Diday, respectively. While some child actors tend to overact and be annoying, Comia brings it in, and it's impressive, considering the kid hasn't been in a lot of roles prior to this.

Kiko Boksingero exists as a heartwarming counterpoint to all the doom and gloom of the other entries. It's a testament of love and how it exists in plain sight, but not necessarily in things we may readily notice.

Lemuel Lorca's latest film, Maestra, is nothing if not earnest. It's a collection of three stories about teachers struggling to make it in a country that doesn't exactly put education as its highest priority. These stories are based on real life people; two of the three outstanding teachers who served as an inspiration for the film were in the audience.

Of the three stories, only Angeli Bayani's story ended up being particularly compelling to me. The other two have a number of storytelling hiccups. Anna Luna's segment, that of a extremely talented teacher shackled by the limitations of her economic status, tends to tell rather than show, and ends when things start to get interesting. Gloria Sevilla's segment, that of a veteran in the education field who wants to keep teaching even well after retirement age, doesn't have much to work on, either. (Her character is pretty interesting, though.)

Angeli Bayani's story, that of an Aeta teacher who perseveres to uplift her small community, is the most fleshed out of all the stories. She has taken the licensure exam for teachers multiple times (29 in real life) without passing; and yet her determination has led to the construction of a school for the members of her community, one that is accessible only by a four hour walk to the location. It could definitely have worked out as a short, and Angeli Bayani's the kind of actress that can carry such a thing on her shoulders.

It's no secret that the film is co produced by a popular review center (and the film seems to be peppered with random product placement), but I think the true stories that the movie depicts are important and inspiring nevertheless. It's just that the storytelling for most of the stories isn't getting where it's supposed to be. Ultimately, in terms of what it says about education, I think this is better than the other teaching-themed movie I saw in Cinemalaya this year..

***

Later today (or maybe tomorrow) - A look at Asia Visions, and the last competition entry that I haven't seen for this festival. Have I saved the best for last? Stay tuned.

Cinemalaya 2017: Baconaua, Respeto, Ang Guro Kong Di Marunong Magbasa, Shorts A

In Joseph Laban's latest feature, Baconaua, the sea itself is a force of nature, giving and taking away from the residents of a sleepy seaside village. But other than its slice of life depiction of three siblings after the apparent loss of their father, it goes deeper with its concepts.

The film opens with the Spanish rendition of the Philippine national anthem, and later, the American rendition is heard, both echoes of our colonial past. There's intrigue surrounding the possibility of an 'intruder' after strange things start happening to the beach. The film can be interpreted as a work about postcolonialism, with our relatively insular community shaped by outside forces both old and new. Tying into that is the symbolism of the apple, serving as the neocolonial fruit of the gift of knowledge, bearing deadly seeds within. The village becomes a microcosmic reflection of our country, the villagers, ourselves.

Laban uses elements of magical realism, much like his earlier film Nuwebe, and he does it way better in this film. Also like that film, Baconaua is based on true events, and like many of the films that are showing in this year's festival, it addresses very contemporary issues about how we deal with ourselves and others on a national level. Granted, it gets a bit rough by the third act and it doesn't all come together by the end, but the film ultimately works for the most part.

There comes a time when a film completely wrecks one's expectations. In my case, it's Alberto Monteras II's Respeto. I expected this film to be a lot of things. A local low budget version of 8 Mile, or something along the lines of Jim Libiran's Tribu, or some sort of inspirational movie that portrays a down-on-his-luck hero overcoming obstacles to reach an impossible goal. But what I got instead was something far different, and far better than anything I could have come up with.

Respeto pairs Hendrix (Abra), an aspiring rapper with dreams of making it big, and Doc (veteran actor Dido de la Paz), a talented poet who lived through the Martial Law era. After a rather acrimonious start, the two start having a curious relationship of shared pain. Both have deep scars that still fester - Doc has had his own share of trauma during the dark days of Martial Law and Hendrix is very much a student of the School of Hard Knocks. In many ways, through both poetry and rap, they are very much the same, just as the eras they lived or are living in grow ever more similar.

There's a kind of poetry that lines the frames of this film, whether it be through skillful rap verses or the eloquent repartee of Balagtasan. Contrasted with the beauty of this poetry is violence and death. It's a nice notion to think the world can change for your sake overnight, but it doesn't. Respeto leaves us in a place of uncertainty, where idealism gives way to the cynicism of the real world. And it serves as an answer to the question of why people can't "move on" from things like Martial Law. It's because the wounds will forever be too deep, and too fresh to heal. I don't think Respeto is perfect, but I think it's one of the best movies, local or otherwise, of the year.

It's obvious from the start that Ang Guro Kong Di Marunong Magbasa means well. It tackles the issue of poor farmers' children from remote villages who are marginalized and denied even basic education by their own government. This leads to the kids joining armed rebel groups stemming from this frustration.

The problem is, the film isn't really well made. Its many lapses in storytelling often lead to unintentionally hilarious moments, and this isn't even counting the moments that are meant to be humorous. There's one scene in particular that serves as the most ludicrous (and funny) example of overkill since the ending of the 1985 film Blood Debts (look it up!)

The film makes a lot of bizarre choices. Flashback scenes have a habit of turning into sepia, then back into their original color; as if whoever applied the effects didn't apply it to the whole sequence. Some editing choices during the last half are strange, and the film seems to go on too long after the climax. The "Movement," a nebulous group that's like the love child of Abu Sayyaf and the NPA, looks nothing like either. All of the characters have vaguely Muslim or Mindanaoan names but they all look and act inauthentic.

The dialogue is generally atrocious. Serious scenes have funny lines in them, a sin also committed by films like Hermano Puli. A certain sequence of events that involve torture was met with riotous laughter from the audience because of certain condiment related references. The one bright spot in the movie would be the performances by the actors, given the horrible dialogue. I liked Alfred Vargas, though I thought the casting choice was weird. The kid actors are superb as always (and who got Asintado vibes from seeing Miggs Cuaderno with a slingshot?)

In any case, I really can't get behind the film. But the advocacy it supports is a very worthy cause that we should support, whether you liked the film or not.

***

JOHN TAWASIL AND THE WE WANT SHORT SHORTS SHORTS A REVIEWS METASTASIS OF KARGON INTERDIMENSIONAL DREADNOUGHT 5723.31

Shorts A had a couple of standouts, three ok films and one dud.

Fatima Marie Torres and the Invasion of Space Shuttle Pinas 25 looks really weird on the surface, but it is actually really sweet and funny once you peel back all the weirdness. It juxtaposes facets of the human experience from the grandest of scales (like people going into space) to its most intimate (wink wink nudge nudge).

Sorry For the Inconvenience is short, but I kind of dug it as well. I would have wanted a bit more about the relationship between father and son, but this is ok. It teaches us that many things, even violence, are learned; and that few things match a parent's love.

Lola Loleng is an animated feature about a senile grandmother reminiscing with her granddaughter. The animation is quite pretty. It's a bit broad, and I wanted the film to expand on Lola's stories a bit more, because we only get fragments of these memories. Still, the film can be pretty affecting.

Aliens Ata is shot entirely from an alien's eye view, as if you're looking at the characters straight down from a great height. It's a relatively simple tale about two brothers and their struggles in life. The nature of the shot puts a bit of emotional distance from the kids, which may or may not work in the film's favor, depending on how you read it.

Islabodan has a lot of elements that are clearly symbolic; it's no coincidence that the two warring factions are clothed in yellow and red, and the faction leader names are Makoy and Nonoy. The world of Islabodan is one where everyone uses everyone else in a great, fucked up political game, even when they're literally fighting over trash. That said, I have numerous problems with the film: 1) the comicbook aesthetic looks amateurish (don't use comic sans in title cards EVER), and it makes it hard to follow what's going on in any one scene, 2) the film could have benefited from multiple takes, and 3) the film feels really corny at times.

If the shorts category had a best cinematography award, Manong ng Pa-aling would be a good bet to win it. Those underwater shots are exquisite; some of the best I've seen in the festival. The rest of the movie is ok - it's a tale of obsolescence and the toll that time takes on all of us.

---

Tomorrow, if schedule permits, Raging Calf, and an Exhibition film by Lem Lorca... that doesn't take place in Mauban!?

Cinemalaya 2017: Requited, Sa Gabing Nananahimik ang mga Kuliglig, Nabubulok, Bagahe, Shorts B

Matt (Jake Cuenca) is going on a biking trip from Manila all the way up to Mount Pinatubo. On the way, he's joined by his friend Sandy (Anna Luna). It's obvious that Matt still has feelings for Sandy, despite the fact that she's taken. What will Matt do?

The premise looks good on paper, but Requited is plagued with tons of problems from the very start. Matt isn't a very likeable character, and there's not much in the film that makes him sympathetic. He snaps at Sandy with cruel remarks that seem out of place. It's obvious that he's frustrated at her, but then he's all happy by the next scene. The man is a cipher and there isn't a lot of consistency in the way he's written.

Sandy isn't any different, either: the spotty sound design made her even more annoying, and she spends the film giving Matt mixed signals - she's either completely dense or has a double personality. (Seriously, who walks out of a bath naked knowing their male friend is outside?) There's a lot of sexual tension between the two but it really doesn't go anywhere - except for a scene that gave me traumatic flashbacks of Nuwebe (which, ironically, Jake Cuenca also starred in.)

And here I firmly believe this isn't the actors' fault. The film's script is primarily to blame. It isn't very good; it made these characters very inconsistent and hard to relate with. A major twist during the film's concluding act puts an interesting spin on things, but by this time I was so turned off by it all that I just groaned and wished for it all to stop.

The film also suffers from a number of technical problems. The sound balance is way off, and it's painfully obvious at times when sound effects are edited in. To be fair, the film is well shot, but that's about the only decent thing I can say about the movie. A movie needs a good foundation to stand, and in this case, it should have been the script. Without it, everything collapses.

On a moonlight night, there is a procession of candles. A crime of passion. A confession. Trapped within the night's darkness, the truth waits.

Perhaps the most curious thing about Iar Arondaing's Sa Gabing Nananahimik ang mga Kuliglig is the choice to shoot the film in a 4:3 aspect ratio. And yet, this boxy frame is but one of many curious things in this film. Within these frames, our characters are pushed to the periphery, the dead space in their wake bearing the weight of their secrets.

And Sa Gabing Nananahimik ang mga Kuliglig is a movie of secrets, whether it be secrets that are revealed or secrets that are concealed. The frame then becomes constricting, narrowing our eyes to the characters, perhaps the film's way of urging us to seek truth from within them. And visually, these characters try to escape our gaze by shifting to the far side of these frames.

Secrets become crosses to bear, and the characters of this film have these secrets take root deep in their psyches. I noticed that rarely do any of the characters speak face to face. Even when doing a shot-counter shot sequence where two characters are talking to each other, they are placed on the frame in such a way that when you overlap two frames on top of each other, the characters' eyes never meet - they are facing away from each other.

Visually the film is masterful, but that's complemented by great performances from the ensemble cast. The soundtrack is adequate, though it tends to oversell dramatic moments occasionally. The film takes a while to get going as well, and the slower pace may turn off some. There are some dream sequences that feel slightly overdone, but ultimately the pros outweigh the cons in this case.

If you are patient enough to get through the first half of the film, Sa Gabing Nananahimik ang mga Kuliglig can be pretty rewarding. And it's really enjoyable in a visual sense, perhaps one of my most favorite cinematography work yet this year. Considering that this film was made with only 750,000 pesos, which is a paltry sum even for independent films, the end result is pretty remarkable.

Nabubulok is directed by Sonny Calvento, the son of popular crime reporter Tony Calvento. Like the show his father hosted, this tale is also about a crime. Or at least, the shadow of one. When Luna, wife of an American Expat, disappears, the neighbors are worried, especially Luna's extended family members, who live nearby.

The film takes us through the mystery of the alleged crime, giving us the possible motives behind the crime, means of doing the crime and other such details. And all these clues are revealed by scenes of eavesdropping, whether it be a clerk overhearing a conversation, a curious internet cafe user peeking at the screen next to her, or a computer repairman finding illicit files on a computer under repair. The film deftly takes our natural curiosity for a ride in this film, and it certainly kept me on my toes until the climax.

This all leads to the ending, which is both the film's greatest strength and its greatest weakness. The ending resolves a major plot point through a few lines of text, which can feel unsatisfying. In general, the plot threads are loosely tied together through the ending, and there's no sense of true resolution (which to be fair may be the point.) On the other hand, the ending says some pretty interesting things about what we have become in the past decade or so. Nabubulok ("decaying" in Tagalog) may not only describe the rotting flesh of a corpse, but also the systems that run and protect our society from wrongdoing. Often, people are pushed to take the law into their own hands, frustrated at the fact that the systems that keep them safe no longer work.

It's a very keen insight, and one that is very relevant in contemporary times. While it has its faults, Nabubulok ends up pretty enjoyable as a whole.

And finally, for the feature length films for today, we have Zig Dulay's Bagahe. A baby is found abandoned inside an airplane garbage can. All signs point to Mercy, a returning OFW, as a culprit. Soon after, she is taken by the NBI for investigation.

The first half of Bagahe finds Mercy undergoing procedure after procedure as she finds her way through the legal system: first to several doctors who poke and prod her, then to the NBI, who interrogates her, then finally to a women's shelter where she tries to pick up the pieces of her life. The whole process is surreal, even dehumanizing in a sense, as Mercy is reduced to a few pieces of paper, a clinical abstract, an envelope filled with papers, a sensational case for the world to judge. It's slow and a bit tedious, but it's meant to be that way. In many ways it's a reflection of the second half of Dulay's earlier film M: Mother's Maiden Name, where the tedious bureaucracy of the health care system is explored.

Through these slow, tedious procedures, other people (whether it be in the justice, health care or social welfare systems) make decisions for Mercy; not once do these people ask Mercy what she wants. They mean well, and for the most part they are trying to help, but they are all trapped in a system that may be broken, and it's often uncertain whether Mercy is being helped for her own sake or being helped to serve the agenda of others.

Mercy may seem small, dwarfed by the wishes of these other people, but she eventually manages to say what she wants to say, and Angeli Bayani really brings it home with a terrific performance. Perhaps the film's only fault is that the first half may be too long, too tedious, stretching a story that we've guessed from the start. Nevertheless, it's a startling tale that helps shed a light on the mental toll on our workers abroad.

***

WE WANT SHORT SHORTS CINEMALAYA 2017 SHORT SHORTS B REVIEWS FROM SHORTS B PINEAPPLE INTERGALACTIC CRUISER 56

Cinemalaya Shorts B is a pretty varied collection of shorts, now with different stuff mixed in with the  usual narrative features. I think it's a pretty strong lineup.

Juana and the Sacred Shores is a thesis film submitted for the UPFI. It mostly two people dancing on the shore, which you may partly have surmised from the title. What's interesting is that there is hardly any music to accompany the dancing; one feels the rhythm and the lyricism of the film's invisible 'music' through the expression of the dance itself. Such a venture would fail had the dancers been less than skillful, but that's not the case here - both dancers are quite impressive. The camerawork is really impressive as well, and the visual style of the film is no joke either.

I've seen Maria before at last year's Cinema One Originals festival, and it still holds up pretty well. Like I said before, it does somehow feel ridiculous until you realize this is based on a real life story. And I'm no stranger to patients with 12, 13, even 15 children, far more than most people can comfortably support, so this is not an uncommon story either.

Nakaw was shot in one take, which is as impressive as the fact that it does so much with so little. As the title implies, things are stolen in this short film, and not just money - a woman, a bet, a life. Its colors are gray and desaturated and at least technically is worth a watch, even if one thinks the themes descend into cliche.

Hilom, about a pair of twin brothers in a sleepy seaside town, can be quite sweet and genuinely affecting. I had concerns that there would be weird overtones between the two brothers but no one else got those vibes so it's probably just me. Out of all the films in this set, this is the one that's staying in my mind the most.

Bawod ends at an uncertain place, which may make the film feel too open-ended. But what comes before is genuinely good and charming, and at the end of the day the film is my favorite of the Shorts B set.

If we speak purely in technical aspects, Nakauwi Na is the weakest link of Shorts B. It's awkwardly edited, it's plagued with a lot of technical issues and the film descends into overtly manipulative territory by the end. But its themes are very relevant and the film's ending is just a perfect way to cap off this deeply flawed film. 

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Tomorrow: More Shorts, Kids With Guns (but not in WWII), Walong Milya, and... Bacon!?

Cinemalaya 2017: Birdshot (Opening Film; part of Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino)

August is a really busy time for local films. Not only is it Cinemalaya time, immediately following it is another film festival, the Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino (PPP) which will be showing at all theaters nationwide. This year's opening film is one of the entries of the PPP, and it's Mikhail Red's Birdshot.

Birdshot opens with two storylines: in the first, a young girl kills a Philippine Eagle in a restricted area, and I don't have to tell you that's not good at all. In the second storyline, two police officers investigate the bizarre disappearance of a bus full of people. In both stories, the main characters are fresh and naive, idealistic to a fault.

This is very much a film that sees its characters come of age into darkness - the darkness of the realization that the truth of the world is far more complicated, existing in shades of gray. And the protagonists of Birdshot aren't bad people - they're good at heart but are forced into situations that are beyond their control. 

And Birdshot is a movie of secrets, where truth becomes the catalyst of this coming of age. The film is full of scenes pregnant with tension as we, the audience, are kept in the dark as much as the main characters are. Despite the film being a relatively slow burn, the tension keeps it engaging and watchable. When their innocence shatters into pieces, you know they have been irrevocably changed by this truth. Mikhail Red (through cinematographer Mycko David) uses visuals and spiritual symbolism to emphasize this point, for example, juxtaposing this coming of age with menarche, followed by a 'baptism' of sorts that serves as spiritual and physical ablution. 

Birdshot's themes are even more relevant today in a culture that celebrates and embraces impunity, one where corruption rots the institutions created to protect us, leading them to serve interests that are not our own. Its truths exist in many different layers, making the film worth watching multiple times. If this is any indication of the rest of the films of the PPP, I'm very excited.