Movie Critique of JanDara, Oro Plata Mata, Fame, Kadin, Himala, and Masahista

November 8, 2009

JAN DARA

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

Title: Jan Dara

A film premiered at the 2001 Toronto International Film Festival.

 

Produced by: Peter Chan

                      Allan Fung

                      Jo Jo Yuet-chun Hui

                      Duangkamol Limcharoen

                      Nonzee Nimibutr

 

Movie Production: Applause Pictures Cinemasia

 

Director: Nonzee Nimibutr

 

Writer: Nonzee Nimibutr
            Sirapak Paoboonkerd
            Utsana Phleungtham

 

Cast of Characters:  

 

Suwinit Panjamawat as……………….Jan Dara (teenage)

Santisuk Promsiri as…………………..Khun Luang, Jan Dara’s father

Christy Chung…………………………Khun Boonlueang

Eakarat Sarsukh……………………….Jan Dara (adult)

Wipawee Charoenpura…………………Aunt Waad

Patharawarin Timkul…………………..Khun Kaew

Director: Nonzee Nimibutr

 

Writer: Nonzee Nimibutr
            Sirapak Paoboonkerd
            Utsana Phleungtham

 

Synopsis:

 

Jan is a boy growing up in a wealthy, dysfunctional family where sex has a huge impact on everyone’s lives. Jan Dara is viewed by his father, Khun Luang, as cursed, since his mother died giving birth to him.The younger sister of Jan’s mother, Aunt Waad, is brought in to care for Jan. Luang has sexual relations with her, which causes young Jan to be jealous, since he has developed feelings for Waad. Waad and Luang have a daughter, Kaew, who is the apple of Luang’s eye. From the beginning, he teaches her to hate the “bastard Jan”. Waad, in return, treats Jan like her own son and despises Kaew.

Later, another of Khun Luang’s women, the sophisticated nymphomaniac Boonlueang, moves into a guesthouse on the estate, and she teaches Jan his first lessons in the ways of love.Jan is then framed for the rape of Kaew, who was having relations with the son of one of the family’s maids. Later, it emerges that Kaew is pregnant, with the seed of her own father. To smooth over the damage to the family’s reputation, Jan is asked to return to the family estate and is forced into an arranged marriage with his half-sister Kaew. He does so, as long as he is promised the deed to the estate. Kaew gives birth to Luang’s child with a Down’s syndrome and curses it after it has emerged from her womb.

Kaew, meanwhile, enters into a lesbian relationship with Boonlueang. When Jan discovers this, he demands that Kaew give him his own child and forces himself upon her repeatedly. Kaew becomes pregnant with Jan’s child but she refuses to have the baby she is carrying, and with Boonlueang’s assistance, performs a bloody, self-administered abortion. Jan subsequently finds himself repeating the libidinous patterns of his father, going as far as to have sex with a maid in his father’s sitting room, in front of the portrait of his mother. Jan wonders why he can’t escape the cycle of sexual abuse started by his father. Then it is revealed that Jan is the product of a gang rape of his mother.

Audience Stability: It is definitely an R-18 movie because of the sexual scenes between not only man and woman but also the same sexes.

Cinematic Focus:

Story Driven. It is clearly presented that Jan has been manipulated by the situation in the movie. Making him just the same as his father in the end of the story, a person he doesn’t want to be. He is just acting to the situation and condition given by other characters. He is struggling to fight his complicated and traumatic life.

Points for Observation:

The story was really complicated that somehow make some parts of the movie very confusing. The sexual scenes are very intimate maybe to really show the lust and sensuality of the character and scenes, which I think is not right, which can be edited and made more wholesome for the sake of the audience itself and their values. But then I gave my salute to the characters that had performed their role very professionally and convincingly.

Rating: * * * *

 

KADIN

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

 

Title: Kadin (the goat)

A Cinemalaya Independent Film (2007) winner

 

Producer: Adolfo Borinaga Alix Jr.

                Bicycle Productions with Ignite Media

Cast of characters:

Rico Mark Cardona as…………………. Peping (The young boy)

 Monica Joy Camanillas………………….Lita (The little sister)

Simon Ibarra…………………………….. Councilor

Angel Aquino…………………………….Councilor’s Wife

Director: Adolfo Borinaga Alix Jr.

Writer: Adolfo Borinaga Alix Jr.

Synopsis:

A goat named Gami was stolen from the Ivatan family of the young boy named Peping (Rico Mark Cardona). It was a goat that has been a part of the family – a care and a duty because it reminds them of their deceased mother. Gami was named and cared by the mother of the young boy because it easily get cold, until one day the both the goat and the mother got sick and eventually leads to the mother’s death. The movie was about the pursuit of this young boy to find and bring Gami (the goat) home before night falls. It has never been a good journey in finding Gami – hardships and failures came along, but like the resilient island of Batanes, the pursuit paid off.

Audience Stability: I think this is suitable for R-13. Except for the wholesome scenes, it also contains values that are specifically portrayed by children of their age.

Cinematic Focus:

It is more of a Technical and Experimental Driven story. The movie was really able to unfold the beauty of Batanes, not only the place itself but including the wonderful tradition and culture that some of us fail to even recognize. With the help of carefully woven shot and with the right element of focus and the already given magnificent background, one can’t resist to ask for more. Though the story is still experimental because it’s still somewhat hard to grasp the meaning of the story itself, or rather it will still be very subjective to the various audiences who are watching it on how they will interpret it and try to understand does it really employs.

Points for Observation:

The bad side of the movie was it was a little bit boring, there was scenes which I think is not really necessary and can be already deleted or shortened. I also wish that the tradition that was continually shown in the movie was somehow explained. The experimental way of making this movie is very subjective and can’t easily be understood. The shots are great though I really commend them for making the province of Batanes as their location. And also I like the way the story end because somehow in a way their great and long journey was worth it.

Ratings: * * *

 

ORO PLATA MATA

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

Title: Oro Plata Mata

Producer: Charo C. Concio

Cast of Characters: 

Cherie Gil as…………..…………….Trining Ojeda

Sandy Andolong as…. ………………Maggie Oje

Liza Lorena as……………………… Nena Ojeda

Fides Cuyugan-Asencio as………… Inday Lorenzo

Manny Ojeda as………………………Don Claudio Ojeda

Maya Valdez as………………………Jo Russell

Lorli Villanueva as…………………..Viring Ravillo

Ronnie Lazaro as…………………….Hermes Mercurio

Joel Torre as…………………………Miguel Lorenzo

Director: Peque Gallaga

Writer: Jose Javier Reyes

Synopsis:

Oro Plata Mata traces the changing fortunes of two aristocratic families in Negros during World War II. The Ojeda family is celebrating Maggie Ojedas (Andolong) debut. In the garden, Trining (Gil) receives her first kiss from Miguel Lorenzo (Torre), her childhood sweetheart. Don Claudio Ojeda (Ojeda) and his fellow landowners talk about war. The youngest guests mock Miguels refusal to join the army and brand him mamas boy. The celebration is cut short by news of the fall of the Corregidor. As war nears the city, the Ojedas accept the invitation extended by the Lorenzos, their old family friends, to stay with them in their provincial hacienda. Nena Ojeda (Lorena) and Inday Lorenzo (Asensio) try to deny the realities of war by preserving their pre-war lifestyle. Pining for her fiancé, Maggie goes through bouts of melancholy. Miguel and Trining turn from naughty children into impetuous adults.

Two more family friends a doctor, Jo Russell (Valdez), guerillas and Viring (Villanueva) join them. As the enemy advance, the families move to the Lorenzos forest lodge. A group of weary guerillas arrive and Jo tends to their injuries. The guerillas leave Hermes Mercurio (Lazaro) behind. Miguel endures more comments of the same kind when he fails to take action against a Japanese soldier who came upon the girls bathing in the river. It is Mercurio who kills the Japanese. Maggie comforts Miguel, who decides to learn how to shoot from Mercurio. Meanwhile, Virings jewelry is stolen by Melchor (de la Cruz), the trusted foreman. He justifies his action as a reward for his services. He tries his to break the other servant’s loyalty, but they force Melchor to leave. Later, Melchor and his band of thieves return. They raid the food supplies, rape Inday and chop off Virays fingers when she does not take off her ring. Trining goes with the bandits, despite all the crimes they have committed against her family. These experiences committed Maggie and Miguel closer together. Miguel urges the survivors to resume their mahjong games to help them cope. Miguel is determined to hunts the bandits down and bring Trining back. He catches them, but his courage is replaced with bloodlust, driving him to a killing spree. An epilogue follows the violent climax. The Americans have liberated the Philippines from Japan. A party is held in the Ojeda home to announce Maggie and Miguels betrothal. The survivors attempt to reclaim their previous lifestyle, but the war has changed the world, just as it has forever marked each of them.

Recommended subjects areas for study: Politics, Military, Poverty, Activist, Government, Media, Survival and Struggles, Battle of the Sexes

Audience Stability: Rated-18

Cinematic Focus:

I supposed that it is a Story and Character Driven movie. Story Driven, because its main focus is the three different critical stages of their lives, the ORO wherein the characters are experiencing the comforts and luxuries of life, then the PLATA signifying the start of Japanese Occupation and the scene where they have to live a little less and to take refuge with the Lorenzo’s hacienda, and lastly the MATA wherein they were forced to live simple lives, living in the forest just to be safe. Character Driven, because the story revolves around two families who are striving to survive the physical and psychological scars of war. In the end we will notice the dramatic changes in the characters personalities because of the war, discovering that war maybe over but it will still forever leave a mark on them.

Points for Observation:

It was a marvelous movie of Filipino artisans. It really focused on how well we Filipino can survive and surmount any great challenges in their lives. We are capable of changes, even though it comes to the culture, situation and government. The movie was a good representation of the transition of the social situation of the characters, from ORO, then PLATA and to worst MATA. The scenes were also nicely taken mirroring the culture and conservatism of the Filipino. Another thing that caught my attention is when they were going to the forest they walked in a road with a background of flames, I think that it’s very symbolic, though it may suggest various things like what that the situation is like, or their burning passion to escape, or maybe it represent their hope and bayanihan. But whatever it is, that scene was still remarkable.

Rating: * * * *

 

FAME

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

Title: Fame

Producer: Mark Canton,Gary Lucchesi, Tom Rosenbero, Richard Wright (Metro Goldwyn Mayer Pictures)

Cast of Characters:   

    Naturi Naughton as………………………………….. Denise Dupree

    Collins Pennie as…………………………………….. Malik Washburn

    Kay Panabaker as……………………………………. Jenny Garrison

    Asher Book as……………………………………….. Marco Ramone

    Kherington Payne as…………………………………. Alice Ellerton

    Walter Perez as………………………………………. Victor Taveras

    Anna Maria Perez de Taglé as……………………….. Joy Moy

    Paul Iacono as………………………………………… Neil Baczynsky

    Kristy Flores as………………………………………. Rosie Martinez

    Paul McGill as………………………………………… Kevin Barrett

    Debbie Allen as………………………………………. Principal Angela Simms

    Charles S. Dutton as………………………………….. Mr. Alvin Dowd

    Megan Mullally as……………………………………. Ms. Fran Rowan

    Kelsey Grammer as……………………………………. Mr. Joel Cranston

    Bebe Neuwirth as……………………………………… Ms. Lynn Kraft

 

Director: Kevin Tancharoen

Writer: Allison Burnett

Synopsis:

This movie is based upon the 1980 film which follows NYC talent attending the New York City High School for the Performing Arts, (Known today as Fiorello H. Laguardia H.S.) students get specialized training that often leads to success as actors, singers, etc. In 1936, New York City Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia founded the High School of Music & Art in order to provide a facility where the most gifted and talented public school students of New York City could pursue their talents in art or music, while also completing a full academic program of instruction. In 1948, the School of Performing Arts was created to provide training in performance skills to students who wished to prepare for professional careers in dance, music or drama.

Audience Stability: I would put it on R 13, because it’s the young hearts that dreams the most.

Cinematic Focus:

It is very much a Character Driven story, because it’s all about the character choices on what steps they should make in order to achieve their dream. They are the one who control the story of their lives. Their dreams and their passion for what they are doing make them stronger and better person.

Points of Observation:

There was a slow and unclear progress of the characters in the story. Thinking that this movie is about their dreams, suddenly most of them has problem unresolved, making life seems a bit frustrating. I think the movie should focus more on how they’ll beat this problem and TOGETHER fulfilling their dreams. But the production was well presented using good camera angles. Also the talents of the characters should not be forgotten.

Rating: * * *

 

MASAHISTA

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

 

Title: Masahista

 

Production: Producer: Marissa Cua Dante
                     Ihman Esturco
                     Fedelyn T. Geling
                     Ma. Lourdes Gnileg
                     Venus Mungcal

                     Coco Simmo

 

Cast of Characters:  

 

 Coco Martin as…………..……………………. Iliac

  Jacklyn Jose as…………………………………Naty

  Allan Paule as…………………………………Alfredo / Marina Hidalgo

  Katherine Luna as……………………………..Tessa

  Paolo Rivero   as……………………………… Andrew

  Kristoffer King   as…………………………….Lester

 

Director: Brillante Mendoza

 

Writer:  Boots Agbayani Pastor

 

Synopsis:

Iliac, in need of a job to earn money, became a young masseur in Maharlika, a spa parlor for gay customers. This job is no ordinary massage job but this job also entails sexual pleasure to satisfy the customers. Iliac met Alfredo, a romance writer who fell in love with him. They clicked eventually and their relationship became quite intense. But reality bit Iliac back when he found out that he has to return to Pampanga to attend his father’s funeral and do his responsibilities to his family.

 Audience Stability: It would still be R-18. The movie has scenes between man to man sex scenes that are still requiring an open-mindedness of the people, breaking in the conservatism of Filipino culture.

Cinematic Focus:

Story Driven because Iliac was trapped on poverty and situations that forced him to became a masseur and live his life the way it was portrayed in the movie. He also didn’t choose to have a broken family which added up to his problem, his struggle to perform his duty as a masseur, as a son, as a boyfriend and as a person is leading him out to the path he really wanted to take. Struggling to escape what he already is.

 

Points of Observation:

 

Realistic and inspiring, these are the two things that came into my mind when I finished the movie ‘Masahista’. From its title I’m sure one can say that it is another movie of exploiting nudeness, but actually its more than that, it’s explicit on how poverty empower or forcefully push the people to the path/destiny that they never really dream of , and often times to a reality they can’t longer escape no matter what. The director was really successful in adding the element of neo-realism just simply by having the problem of the movie. Just like in real life where people always deal with problems about money, family, love and lust, and dream. The movie was a shocking and evident proof that the real world we are living right now is cruel and is composed of broken men, with broken dreams. The movie really turned out as an artistic reflection of our society, culture and family values.

 

 

I was really amazed in the way the light has been handled. Though the actor’s private parts are carefully hidden, the sensuality of the character and scene never changed. It was like your watching a bold movie without really seeing a front nudeness at all. The movie was intended to be dark, maybe because it relates the truth that world where Iliac was moving is empty, unhealthy, and prohibited.  The movie used the irony of sex and death, wherein he dressed his father while he undressed for another man.

 

There were a lot of symbolisms that has been mixed with the movie, some where interpreted clearly some are not. As you can remember there was a cockroach in the room where Iliac will perform his craft, I think that it symbolizes the indecent job of Iliac and how some people become dirty from what they want and they do to have it, perfect example is the lust of Alan Paule. Another symbolism is the ‘observe silence’ in the hospital, which makes me realize that how one can be numb silent due to life’s grief and pain. The rubber shoes which represent Iliac dreams, dream of success, buying his own shoes, for as you can remember he is complaining about his old worn out shoes to Alan. It also represent his dream of fatherly love, because when he saw that all this time his father was planning to buy them a shoe, slipper, etc, he realize that his father still care and love them after all.

 

Overall, it is a very interesting movie. In the end Iliac will go back to his unwanted profession, but still the hope in his heart to fight his destiny remains, a light of hope that he’ll be waiting and wanting to look forward to like the giant lantern in Pampanga, that night he went back in Manila.

 

Rating: * * * *

 

 

HIMALA

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrC 3-1D

 

Title:  Himala

 Movie Production Outfit (Producer):  Experimental Cinema of the Philippines

 Cast of Characters:

Nora Aunor — Elsa

Spanky Manikan

Jeremias Sta.Maria

Laura Centeno

Gigi Duenas

Vangie Labalan

Veronica Palileo

Cris Daluz

Joel Lamangan

Ben Almeda

Aura Mijares

Ray Ventura

Crispin “Pen” Medina

Lem Garcellano

Estela de Leon

Cesar Dimaculangan

Joe Gruta

Tony Angeles

Richard Arellano

Mahatma Canda

Erwin Jacinto

Vicky Castillo

Tommy Yap

Director: Ishmael Bernal

Writer: Ricky Lee

Synopsis:

 In the forgotten town of Cupang in the Philippines, a young woman named Elsa (Nora Aunor) announces that she has seen the Virgin Mary — and then demonstrates a new-found ability to heal the sick. Soon the whole village has become the center of international attention as people come from all over for statues of the saints and bottles of the village’s holy water. Among the hordes of visitors is a skeptical film director intent on visually recording Elsa’s healing powers — and without his knowing it, some frames capture a secret Elsa has kept from the world for a long time, a secret which led to her sister’s suicide.

Deleted Scenes:

•  Line of Pilo (Ikaw kasi e, ayaw mo pa akong sagutin…..) from scene 1.
• 3 lines from the conversation of Elsa and Priest. ( Pari: Bakit daw siya umiiyak? Elsa: Sabi po nya… Pari: Sa kanya mo ba nakuha ang sugat mo? Elsa : Totoo po ang nakita ko.)
• Line of Chayong (Susmaryosep) when they saw Elsa in the hill.
• In scene 29, as Mrs. Alba and Mayor were talking about their plans for Cupang, there must be a jeepney roaming around but it was not shown in the movie.
• In Scene 31 there were deleted lines.
• Nimia: Kelangan ganda-gandahan nyo nman an gang mga suot nyo. Para kayong mga taga-baryo.
• Nestoy: Putang ina!         
• Intong: Kuya, bat ka nagmura? Sabi ng inay, magagalit ang Diyos!
• Aling Pising begging alms to Orly. But Orly ignored her and Aling Piling said, Pupunta ka sa impiyerno, kuripot?
• Line of the Driver (Kina Elsa na lng libre pa. Halika makiusap tayo do’n sa Intsik) as he was helping Narding who pretended that he was being hold-up. 

Opinion:

I guess these parts were seen unnecessary by the director so they were deleted or maybe this is was done to meet time requirements.

Added Scenes

• Additional lines for the priest in scene 11.
• On their way to hill, people were staring at Elsa’s group,
• In scene 23, Nimia was supposed to be holding a blanket but in the movie it was Igmeng Bugaw who was holding it. 
• In an interview with Nimia, she added line (Dun ako nagpalaglag) as she was telling the reason why she went to Manila.

Opinion:

I’m not sure if these were adlibs or really additional. However, they were effective in general.

Audience Stability:

R-18

Cinematic Focus:

Character-driven.

Points of Observation:

Well presented: I believe the film is really well presented. It gave a perfect picture of a society that holds on to miracles after all it was all that was left to them. The part where Elsa was shot while giving her speech is one of the most well presented in the film, it gave a feeling of surprise and anxiety at the same time.

Ratings: * * * *

 

The Letter I Would Love to Read to You In Person

By Alexis Tioseco

By: Erica Mariz M. Villanueva

BBrc 3-1D

As this letter to his beloved in Slovenia displays, his relationship with local cinema is still very much like a long-distance love affair.

 

My Dear Nika,
I’ve been asked to write a column for this issue of Rogue, and the topic given to me was myself. I’ve always felt it awkward to write in public spaces about personal motivations behind the work I choose to do, so I have decided to use you as an excuse: there are things that you must know, that you may sense but not understand unless I tell you, and so I shall use this opportunity to put them on paper.

Besides, how could I say no to this offer when just the other day you recalled how an essay that was written by the solicitor of this column—in a previous incarnation of this magazine—played a central role in our being together? One must pay back one’s debts . . .

When we met in Rotterdam last January there was something about you that struck me immediately. It was not your beauty, or rather, not just your beauty, but your manner of speaking: which now sixteen months later still demands so much of me. There is a precious intensity in your gestures, the way in which your eyes dart and hands reach out to grab the right word, that illustrates how strong a desire you have to communicate, especially when the conversation turns toward the things that matter to you—the integrity of your work, the importance of nature, the concern for your brother. (I know what you’re thinking—shut up! I’m not a native speaker!—but this isn’t a question of familiarity with language.)

We both did not arrive at the festival in the best of conditions: you in ill health and from the disappointment of not closing the latest issue of Ekran before leaving Slovenia (compounded by you missing your flight and multiplied by a year’s fatigue of battling for editorial independence) and I from the solitude of learning to live alone, and of not yet having come to terms with the abrupt death of my father seven months before (something which, as you know, I am still attempting to do).

I wasn’t in a very good place the months before we met, reckless and hurried in my interactions with new acquaintances, but in Rotterdam it was hard not to fight for clarity and calm when the person before you, beleaguered and weary as they were, would still refuse to let their words slip carelessly . . .

I know sometimes you may think that it was the fact that we worked in the same field that attracted me to you, but I must tell you that this couldn’t be farther from the truth. Why? Because one of the greatest joys I believe one can feel is to share that which they find beautiful with someone who otherwise wouldn’t have noticed it, and to see it appreciated. This is the main reason why I love teaching and why I refuse to show Lord of the Rings to my students (no matter how fervently my co-teachers insist). It is also the evidence that cinema isn’t what brings us nearer to each other: because in this regard, we are on equal footing, and I must instead find other things in me to share with you. For anyone who knows me, they know how difficult that is . . .

Does a place mean more than a person? Does my work in the Philippines mean more than the possibility of a life with you, somewhere, anywhere else?

But Rogue wants to hear about cinema! Or at least about my work and what I have done in it. Why it means so much to me, and why I have done the things that I have. So it is about cinema that I must write! Some of this may seem like things you have heard, my dear Nika, but don’t worry, if I am successful it will all come together in the end, and you will see why it relates to you, to us, and to the future.

Allow me to begin with a story, one of which you may be quite familiar.

In 1997, my father decided that my brother Chris and I, together with my mother, should return to the Philippines (my father as you know had been going back and forth between Manila and Vancouver, never growing quite comfortable in Canada. Remind me to make you a copy of the essay “Where’s the patis?”).

We had moved to Canada in 1983, leaving the Philippines just a few months before the death of Ninoy Aquino and just a few months after my second birthday.

Like most teenagers, I was still growing comfortable in my own skin, or rather trying to, and the thought of moving to another country for my last two years of High School petrified me. I resisted: on one hand, I protested to my parents that I wanted nothing to do with a country that was so class conscious and so corrupt (though I didn’t mind going there for vacation . . . ), and on the other hand, inside, I just didn’t want to deal with attempting to infiltrate ill-fated High School social circles in a new country. I was also completely devastated about having to leave the first girl I ever slow danced with in my high school life—Melodie Pangan—who I’m sure never thought of me as anything more than a friend, but who I still called dramatically from the airport, in tears, telling her I loved her for the first time. But I digress . . . 

My father seduced my brother and I with the promise of round-the-clock air conditioning and a driver to take us wherever we wanted, which admittedly made the move easier to take (so much for my 16-year old defiance of class consciousness). Both of which, as it turned, were just selling points: things he was able, but unwilling, to provide.

As you know, we are five children in my family, but only Chris and I, together with my Mom, moved back. The primary excuse for it being just he and I was that we were the two youngest, and since Chris was just preparing to enter College and I was finishing my last two years of High School, we would both be able to adjust easier. But the other reason was also that we were men and, as men in the Philippines, he had wanted to groom us to take over the family business, to help maintain what he had established, or build on top of it. The primary reason, I believe, for him wanting my mother to come back was so that Chris and I would. We had grown quite close to my Mom over the years in Vancouver, as my Dad was often away, and he knew that her agreeing to go was the key to being able to bring us back. On the part of my Mom, she was settled in Vancouver, she wasn’t comfortable having helpers live in the house, and was used to cooking and cleaning herself and looking after us. She moved back for him, because he asked her to.

Two years passed, and my mother moved back to Vancouver. She had been battling bouts of depression caused by their fights, by her lack of control of the family, and it was decided that she would go to Vancouver for a while for therapy. I didn’t know at the time that it would be for good, it was supposed to be for two months. She returned for the first time in 2006 for my father’s funeral.

My brother Chris never quite settled in the Philippines. One theory we have was that he never got to imbibe the culture in a manner deeper than gimmicks in Makati—and as a majority of his good friends were foreigners and he had no Tagalog classes, he didn’t learn the language much. The other possibility is that he just wasn’t used to living under my father’s watchful eye. He graduated from University in June of 2001, and by August he moved back to Vancouver.

The first impulse of any good film critic, and to this I think you would agree, must be of love.

What was left of my Dad’s dream—of keeping the family together in the Philippines and of one of his sons taking a keen interest in the business? Me. And just me. With less people living in it, the house had more space, and I no longer shared my room with anyone, but I felt more and more suffocated. Upon graduating with my studies directed towards business management, I began working for my father. I lasted from June to November of 2004 before admitting that I couldn’t do it any longer. I would tell you I quit. My father told relatives at family gatherings he fired me. Either story will do now; it doesn’t really matter.

Sender: Dad
Date: 24-04-2006
Time: 05:19:51pm

“BF 2 GF’s rich dad: I wana mari ur dauter,
Dad: Do u work?
BF: Im a theology scholar.
Dad: Can u afford a weding?
BF: God wil provide.
Dad: Wat about a haus, raising a family & education of d kids?
BF: God wil provide.
Later…Mom: How’d it go dad?
Dad: D guy’s poor, & he thinks Im God!”

Sender: Dad
Date: 24-04-2006
Time: 05:22:32pm

“BF 2 GF’s rich dad: I wana mari ur dauter,
Dad: Do u work?
BF: Im a Unvrsty Profsor nd a film critic.
Dad: Can u afford a weding?
BF: God wil provide.
Dad: Wat about a haus, raising a family & education of d kids?
BF: God wil provide.
Later…Mom: How’d it go dad?
Dad: D guy’s poor, & he thinks Im God!”

I never wanted to be a film critic. To this day I abhor using the term for myself, but I’ve begun to do so regularly, just because it makes life easier.

Many filmmakers, especially filmmakers in the Philippines, have a problem with the word critic. We have little to no culture of healthy polemics in the country, as any attempt to consider fault is taken as a personal attack. Rare are those that are able to deal with it properly. One particular filmmaker took objection to the idea of a publication that I was to edit using the title “Criticine”: he had a problem with the word critic being included. A nasty term, I suppose he thought.

The first impulse of any good film critic, and to this I think you would agree, must be of love. To be moved enough to want to share their affection for a particular work or to relate their experience so that others may be curious. This is why criticism, teaching, and curating or programming, in an ideal sense, must all go hand in hand.

The first proper review of a Filipino film that I wrote was on Lav Diaz’s Batang West Side. I knew I liked movies, had even harbored thoughts of making them at one point, and I certainly took a measure of pride in being looked to by my peers as someone whose opinion was worth seeking. But despite this, and despite the surprising satisfaction of first seeing my name in print, I never had any interest in writing film criticism in any serious way.

It was not writing the review of Batang West Side (which I was quite proud of at the time, but look at with a bit of embarrassment for its simplicity today) that changed things for me, but rather what took place before and after writing it: the complete lack of engaging, intelligent writing on the film that engaged more than just the length. (Conrado de Quiros tried, and perhaps his championing was more important than the actual text.) Batang West Side, as you now, is 5-hours long, and if you read most of the articles that I mentioned (I dare not say discussed), this would likely be all that you knew. Even Jessica Zafra, after organizing a screening of the film through her engaging-if-but-short-lived FLIP Magazine (and having commissioned an article from Lav), proceeded to make crude jokes about the film in the letters section of the succeeding issue.

I was a junior in college when the film premiered, and in the five years I had lived in the Philippines, the closest I had come to connecting with culture via cinema were a few jokes in April, May, June, a film about three sisters starring the then quite popular Alma Concepcion and maybe SPO1 Don Juan: Da Dancing Policeman, starring the great Leo Martinez. Needless to say, Batang West Side was a departure, not only in length, but in aesthetic: its rhythm, the distance from the camera to its subject, the duration in which shots were held, the construction of the discourse (equally about past as about present), and most especially in its attitude towards its audience—its stubborn refusal to give in to our inherent need for a neat ending, instead forcing us to draw our own conclusions.

I wasn’t prepared for Batang West Side. I hadn’t heard of Lav Diaz and simply attended because it was during Cinemanila, and it’s not everyday someone makes a film of that length. I was curious. The film stuck with me. Especially so as one of the first films that made me think concretely about what it meant to be Filipino, about the pitfalls of migration. Perils that, I think for the first time now as I type this, my Dad probably understood better than anyone. It’s a shame he never got to see the film.

It was now a full year after Batang West Side premiered, a good few months after I wrote the article, and still little literature was available on the film. I contacted Lav and asked if I could interview him, to which he obliged graciously. The interview ran close to an hour, and I asked him all the questions I wished others had.

Happy with the results, which ran 12 pages long and was published on the website Indiefilipino.com (may she rest in peace, how I loved her so!), I used all the prepaid credit I had to text most everyone mildly interested in cinema in my modest phonebook to plug it. Hardly any of them responded, of course, but there were notes of appreciation on Indiefilipino’s forums, and it made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

There were people, it turned out, who were interested in reading serious writing on serious cinema—it just had to be written and published somewhere accessible.

The first impulse is always one of love.

The more films I saw, specifically local independent films, the more I wanted to see. The deeper I got, the more responsibility I felt, the stronger the need to do something, to share that which I found beautiful.

Writing in English, I never felt much of a need to write about foreign (non-Filipino) movies—though I’m often asked to, and mostly of Hollywood fare. While I love cinema in general, a passion that has grown exponentially over the years, I feel no need to put myself in service of that which doesn’t need it. The feeling has always been: why write about Juno when I’ve hardly read anything incisive put to print about the great animation of Roxlee? Why write about No Country For Old Men when there’s the brilliantly charming films of Antoinette Jadaone waiting to be discovered by readers? The same held true for a stint I had reviewing films every other week on The Breakfast Show on Studio 23. The informal terms of agreement: I could review anything I wanted, local or foreign, new or old, short or long, so long as they could get clips to show. It didn’t make waves by any means—it was but a single segment on a show for viewers with ADD—but I think it meant something to some people: Kris Villarino, the Cebu filmmaker who made the short Binaliw; the group of young upstarts from Davao starting a series of filmmaking workshops that has only grown over time; or the chaotic arrangement of an entire episode on independent filmmaking (before the term was abused) in Christmas 2005 that guested Raya Martin, Khavn De La Cruz, Mes De Guzman, Roxlee, Lav Diaz, Pam Miras, and a very shy John Torres speaking about his short films in public for the first time.

One thing has slowly progressed into another and, what began as a simple curiosity pursued with sincerity, has evolved into a commitment.

Philippine cinema has given much to me, and one must pay back one’s debts.

I never expected to have the opportunity to travel for/from film, especially not on the expenses of others—but, slowly, the opportunities presented themselves. Traveling is a privilege, and not one that I take lightly. In June 2004, as a fresh college graduate, I attended a conference in Singapore. A few months later, on the basis of my writing, I was selected to participate in the Asia-Europe Foundation’s Meeting of Young Film Critics from Europe and Asia. A few months later, I found myself in Berlin as part of the Berlinale Talent Press (though this was only partly subsidized, and it was a last minute loan from my brother in Canada that allowed me to go). A number of trips have ensued, to everywhere from Singapore (7x) to Hawaii, from New Dehli (2x) to Paris, Rotterdam, Oberhausen, and, of course, precious Slovenia, serving on juries and giving talks. All the time I’ve maintained the same stance: that it is important for people to write about their own cinemas and not let it be left to those outside to dictate what matters.

But these tickets, these travels, are expensive. Hotels are expensive. Time is expensive. The pollution caused by airplanes in the sky will cost us in the long run. When you put all these things together, it equals an investment: a serious investment made on and in an individual. Do I sound like I’m taking this too seriously? Allow me to phrase it another way: without the cultural investment made in me, for the work I have or can do with regard to Philippine cinema, I would have never met you. There is much to repay.

I don’t like writing about the Metro Manila Film Festival. I didn’t like it the first time I did it in 2003, nor did I the second or third time. I didn’t like it as well when, with the help of Erwin Romulo, we drafted a position paper seeking reforms in the festival and attempted to rally established filmmakers behind it (signatories included, among others, Eddie Garcia, Peque Gallaga, Jose Javie Reyes, Erik Matti). It’s not fun being told off like I was a two-bit journalist looking for a quote by filmmakers named Laurice. I didn’t like it, but I did it because part of me sincerely believed we could things. A belief that, for a few moments, was infectious, for even those that knew in the back of their mind that nothing would come of it still chose to take part. A friend whose couch I slept on for much of those weeks sent me a text sometime after, a message that now three years later is still saved on my phone:
There’s a line in AGUILA where a Moro secessionist is told his cause is lost. He replies to him that winning doesn’t matter, it’s doing what one feels one should do. That’s wisdom for you.

My dear Nika,
If there has been a single cause of strain that has stuck out in our relationship it is this: the idea of my attachment to the Philippines, the strong desire you see that I have to live and work here, and the way that, perhaps, you see this as a matter of misappropriate priorities. Does a place mean more than a person? Does my work in the Philippines mean more than the possibility of a life with you, somewhere, anywhere else? Must it be you that moves, makes the (I know you hate the word, but let us use it) sacrifice of moving? And what, if anything, does that say about us—that the scales of our love weigh more heavily on your chalice?

I know you’ve come to terms with the idea of moving here, hopefully next year, we discuss—but I still feel the need to talk a bit more about some of my reasons for wanting to stay, at the very least for the meantime. I’m not attempting to compare my affection for Manila with yours for Slovenia, but only to explain the thoughts that go through my head, the things I feel I must do, things that, perhaps, we can do together.

Yours,
Alexis

ADDENDUM

⊲ I wish that the Film Development Council of the Philippines would understand the value of the money they’re given and consider going to Paris and spending five million of their 25 million allotment for a showcase given by a young festival as an investment, and not just a vacation.

⊲ I hope they support filmmakers with finished work to go abroad to festivals for the pride they bring their country—I wish instead they would support their films locally, and help them get seen by larger Filipino audiences.

⊲ I cry for the loss of Manuel Conde’s Juan Tamad films.

⊲ I cry for a country that can’t convince a single Filipino-American who owns the only known print of Conde’s Genghis Khan in its original language to return (i.e. sell) the film back to his mother country.

⊲ I cry for the generations of Filipinos, myself included, that can no longer see Gerry De Leon’s Daigdig ng Mga Api, and instead have scans of movie ads to admire on the internet.

⊲ I mourn a heritage that has allowed the prints of Mario O’Hara’s Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos and Peque Gallaga’s Oro, Plata, Mata to turn flush sepia through neglect.

⊲ I cry for a Union and University of the Philippines that conspire in apathy to let the master negatives of treasures produced by Bancom to rot in rooms only air conditioned half the day and in cans untouched for years and years.

⊲ I pray for a Senator or Congressman to take the courageous step of drafting a bill to help establish a National Film and Sound archive.

⊲ I pray a city government or even enterprising and concerned theater owners will consider settings aside 50 centavos or a peso of a ticket to go toward the preservation of our national audiovisual heritage. There have been flood taxes siphoned from movie tickets. For crying out loud, this should be easy!

⊲ I wish Cinemalaya which, thanks to the media and government mileage behind it has a great festive excitement, would actually put their efforts in service of Philippine cinema, and not in their own self-involved attempt to start a micro-industry.

⊲ I wish filmmakers would stop listening to Robbie Tan.

⊲ I wish Cinema one, which often produces better films than Cinemalaya, would actually give filmmakers some rights to their work and stop swindling them.

⊲ I wish Lav Diaz had larger budgets to maneuver and shoot with.

⊲ I wish Raymond Red would get to make Makapili and return to making fantastic shorts in the experimental mode.

⊲ I wish Mike De Leon would make another movie. . . . Please . . . we need it.

⊲ I wish Roxlee would get enough money to buy the time to make an animated feature.

⊲ I wish everyone would buy a copy of Nicanor Tiongson and Cesar Hernando’s The Cinema of Manuel Conde.

⊲ I wish there were more books on Philippine cinema.

⊲ I wish there were a series of classic screenplays that would get published.

⊲ I wish Cinefilipino would have put out Maalaala Mo Kaya with the reels in the proper order.

⊲ I wish Cinefilipino would have put our their Brocka titles with just a little bit of care and affection, providing some writing on the film or some features, and didn’t just throw them out there to earn.

⊲ I wish Nestor Torre would open his eyes . . .

⊲ I wish the Manunuri books on Philippine cinema in the 70s and 80s would go back in print.

⊲ I wish the Manunuri actually cared about Philippine cinema today.
⊲ I wish the Manunuri actually reviewed films instead of just giving out awards.

⊲ I wish the Young Critics Circle were actually young.

⊲ I wish the Young Critics Circle were actually critics.

⊲ I wish Francis “Oggs” Cruz, Richard Bolisay, and Dodo Dayao would get space in the broadsheets, because they’re far more interesting than anyone writing regularly there today.

⊲ I wish Noel Vera would move back.

⊲ I wish Hammy Sotto was still alive.

⊲ I wish Hammy Sotto’s manuscripts would get published.

⊲ I wish Jo Atienza was still in Manila.

⊲ I wish we had a fully supported Film Museum.

⊲ I wish we had a Cinematheque.

⊲ I wish the UP Film Center had better seats and showed good films.

⊲ I wish more non-filmmakers from the Philippines would get to travel to festivals.

⊲ I wish film were taught in high schools.

⊲ I wish Teddy Co would get the recognition that he deserves for his selfless work.

⊲ I wish Teddy Co would write more, as his ideas deserve to be recorded.

⊲ I wish co-ops would co-operate.

⊲ I wish Khavn De La Cruz would get to make his musical EDSA XXX.

⊲ I wish the Max Santiago feature would get made, and that shorts would finally come to my hands on DVD (Hi Marla!)

⊲ I wish Tad Ermitaño never stops writing and playing in his cave.

⊲ I wish Lourd De Veyra continues writing on actors and cinema.

⊲ I wish Raymond Lee UFO successes.

⊲ I wish we had more regional feature films and more support for regional filmmakers.

⊲ I wish everyone would watch When Timawa Meets Delgado.

⊲ I wish someone would lower MTRCB rates for screenings fees, especially for festivals.

⊲ I wish someone, anyone, would make a good, thought-provoking film about the Philippine upper-class.

⊲ I wish Ketchup Eusebio would get more leading roles.

⊲ I wish Elijah Castillo gets to do a lot more films, soon.

⊲ I wish Cesar Hernando would get to transfer Botika, Bituka.

⊲ I wish filmmakers had some integrity and told Viva to screw themselves when offered another exploitation film.

⊲ I wish more people could see the film Bontoc Eulogy.

⊲ I wish Vic Del Rosario wasn’t presidential advisor on Entertainment, given the shlock they produce, and, yes, that includes the films which starred First-Son Mikey Arroyo.

⊲ I wish Star Cinema would stop . . . just stop.

⊲ I wish there was a film library that people could go to and read books on cinema.

⊲ I wish the MMFF wasn’t handled by the same people who install public urinals (admittedly useful).

⊲ I wish the MMDA didn’t call those circles and boxes Art.

⊲ I wish that MMDA Art wasn’t so much better than every MMFF film.

⊲ I wish Philippine cinema all the success in the world . . .