VLAD BUNOAN, BWORLD

An End-of-the-Millennium list: Thirteen Important Filipino Films

Noel Vera

The films:

13. "Scorpio Nights" (Peque Gallaga, 1985)

12. "Init sa Magdamag" (Midnight Passion, Laurice Guillen, 1983)

11. "Pagdating sa Dulo" (At the Top; Ishmael Bernal, 1972)

10. "Bagong Bayani" (The Last Wish; Tikoy Aguiluz, 1995)

9. "Babae sa Bubungang Lata" (Woman on a Tin Roof; Mario O'Hara, 1998)

8. "Pagputi ng Uwak, Pag-itim ng Tagak" (When the Crow Turns White, When the
Heron Turns Black; Celso Ad. Castillo, 1978)

7. "Manila By Night" (Ishmael Bernal, 1980)

6. "Maynila sa Kuko ng Liwanag" (Manila in the Claws of Neon; Lino Brocka, 1975)

5. "Bagong Hari" (The New King; Mario O'Hara, 1986)

4. "Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" (You Were Judged and Found Wanting; Lino Brocka,
1974)

3. "Kisapmata" (Blink of an Eye; Mike De Leon, 1982)

2. "Insiang" (Lino Brocka, 1976)

1. "Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos" (Three Years Without God; Mario O'Hara, 1976)

The films not chosen

Coming up with a list of great Filipino films (or, in this case, important and
influential ones) poses unique challenges that tend to distort one's list; for
one, the absence of any film before 1970. I don't mean to suggest that no film
before the '70s can be considered great (or important); I meant that too many
films are lost, or unavailable for the general public to see. Maybe one or two
rare films would have been all right, but it isn't a mere 'one or two films'
missing; it's more like only one or two genuine masterpieces are left (I
exaggerate; there are more--but not much more).

I'm sorely tempted to put Manuel Silos' "Biyaya ng Lupa" (Blessings of the Land)
in fourth place, for its novelistic sweep and wealth of details; its lovely,
Ozu-like quiet; its beautifully rounded understanding of people (an
understanding not unlike Renoir's). I'm also tempted to include a Gerardo De
Leon film--any De Leon but especially my favorite (so far), "Sanda Wong," for
the way it brings together fantasy and action-adventure elements in a film
smaller-scaled (yet more entertaining and inventive) than Alexander Korda's "The
Thief of Baghdad." Mentioning these films, however, would be like whispering to
myself; most people wouldn't know what I was talking about, or even care.

The fact of the matter is this: Philippine cinema is suffering from amnesia. We
have lost some of our best works--perhaps the best part of ourselves. We are
trying--slowly, painfully--to recover some of that heritage, but there will be
permanent gaps. And our perspective will remain distorted--clearest when
looking from the '70s onward, increasingly blurred beyond--until we've completed
the task of restoration.

The films about society

Melodramas that criticize Philippine society are a common staple; in fact, they
were the specialty (and special strength) of film master Lino Brocka.
"Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang" (You Were Judged and Found Wanting) was Brocka's
rare attempt to do melodrama on a large-scale canvas--a panoramic view of
society in a small provincial town, from its wealthiest citizen to its most
wretched outcast. When you think about it, it's really Jose Rizal's classic
novel of social satire, "Noli Me Tangere" (Touch Me Not), recast and reimagined
in modern form. Mario O'Hara wrote the script from a story idea by Brocka,
and--incidentally--gives a great performance as Berto, the town leper. The film
was both a critical and commercial success when it came out in 1974; it began
the '70s golden age in earnest, and remains one of the period's key films.

Celso Ad. Castillo's "Pagputi ng Uwak, Pag-itim ng Tagak" (When the Crow Turns
White, When the Heron Turns Black) injects political overtones into its story,
about a poor young man (Bembol Roco) who, when abandoned by his upper-class
lover (Vilma Santos), joins the Hukbalahap rebels.

Ad. Castillo in this film demonstrates an amazing visual language--not flashy,
but quietly, lyrically brilliant. He also demonstrates a more masterful grasp
of music and song than possibly any other Filipino director--the film is a model
on how to use kundimans, ballads, pop songs to differentiate social classes, to
satirize and comment on the narrative action.

Tikoy Aguiluz's "Bagong Bayani" (The Last Wish) is a cinematic investigation
into the Flor Contemplacion case--that of a maid in Singapore, convicted and
hanged for murdering her ward and a fellow Filipina. It carefully considers
evidence for and against the defendant and recreates, with understated power,
Contemplacion's last moments with her family.

The film is a triumph of low-budget (roughly US$200,000.00) independent
filmmaking--which may be the only way unusual subjects can be handled at all.
Because Aguiluz didn't have the money to make a conventional feature film, he
inserted interviews of Filipino workers in Singapore, even footage stolen from
inside Changi Prison (the institute where Contemplacion was incarcerated). The
result is a Filipino film unlike any other, its dramatic scenes mixed with
documentary sequences that expand the film's scope, from the story of one
condemned woman to the story of all overseas workers, everywhere.

The films about sex

Sex films are another staple of Philippine cinema (despite the conservative
Catholicism of most Filipinos); a rare few transcend the genre--either through
sheer explicitness, or through unflinching sensuality. Peque Gallaga's "Scorpio
Nights" uses sex to express the decadence and despair of its time and
place--Philippines 1985, a year after Ninoy Aquino was assassinated, when the
economy was in shambles and President Ferdinand E. Marcos was still in power.
It's about a student (Daniel Fernando) peeping through the floorboards to the
apartment below, to watch a woman (Ana Marie Gutierrez) and her husband make
love; later, student and housewife have an affair...

Gallaga was reportedly inspired by Nagisha Oshima's "In the Realm of the
Senses;" I think Gallaga improves on his source, adding (unlike Oshima) a real
sense of danger to the sex scenes. The two lovers know what will happen if the
husband (Orestes Ojeda, as the gun-toting security guard) ever finds out, and
yet do it anyway; they are literally fucking in the face of death. The Filipino
audiences of 1985 recognized themselves onscreen and swooned; audiences today
still swoon--they know a doomed act of defiance when they see one. "Scorpio
Nights" represents a high-water mark in the Filipino sex film; all others,
including the film's own sequel, seem like a collection of limp sausages in
comparison.

Laurice Guillen's "Init Sa Magdamag" (Midnight Passion) is, if possible, an even
more arousing film than "Scorpio Nights." It's about a woman (Lorna Tolentino)
who changes personality to please the man she's with, and about the man (Dindo
Fernando) who brings her sexuality to full bloom. The sex (done without any
actual nudity) is both sensual and profane, swollen with unhealthy yet
undeniably powerful emotions. It's one of the most successful adaptation of
"The Story of O" I've ever seen, where the woman's submissiveness is every bit
as disturbing as the man's sadism. The film declares that women have a right to
their desires, their own path to self-destruction--a darker, less easily
digestible message than most militant feminists can take (the film was attacked
when it opened commercially). Ironic, given that it's also the finest film ever
made by a Filipina--a daring, defiant, brutally unflinching work of erotic
cinema.

The films about Manila, as a lower circle of hell

It seems every major Filipino filmmaker has to make at least one noir film where
the city of Manila is a main character; Ishmael Bernal's "Manila By Night" is
easily the most sophisticated--and sardonic--of the genre, and the most
difficult to describe. The film follows the threads of several lives that
tangle with each other, across the tapestry that is Metro Manila; at its most
basic level it's a game of one-upsmanship: which character can shed the most
illusions the soonest--the nurse, the gay lover, the taxi driver, or the
pothead? It's a vivid demonstration of what Gustav Hasford said in his novel
"The Short Timers"--that human nature seen honestly, now that is ugly. The film
owes an obvious debt to Robert Altman's "Nashville"--with the difference that
Altman's characters never saw this much grit or grime or outrageous melodrama in
their lives. It in turn has been imitated by most subsequent multiple-story,
multiple-character Filipino films ("Moral" and "Bayad Puri" (Paid with my
Purity) come to mind)--without, however, matching its sweep and intricacy.

Brocka's "Maynila Sa Kuko Ng Liwanag" (Manila in the Claws of Neon) offers a
simpler, much tighter plot altogether: Julio Magadia (Bembol Roco) comes to
Manila to look for his loved one, Ligaya Paraiso, and loses himself in the
hellhole that is Metro Manila.

The film is often called Brocka's best, as well as one of the greatest Filipino
films ever made; I disagree...but understand the high regard. Brocka uses
melodrama unashamedly (Ligaya Paraiso roughly translates as "Joyful Paradise," a
name that, when you think about it, belongs to a porn star); what lifts his work
above ordinary melodrama is the documentary feel--the sense that what you're
seeing is what the camera caught just a few minutes ago, right outside the
theater. "Maynila" is one of the most intense expressions of that unique
sensibility ever, no small thanks due to the director of photography, Mike De
Leon, who later became a major Filipino filmmaker himself. The film's visuals
defined "The Manila Look" for practically every noir that followed, including
those Brocka made himself ("Insiang," "Jaguar," "Macho Dancer") and those made
by others (Bernal--less successfully I think--with "Manila by Night;" Peque
Gallaga, somewhat, with "Scorpio Nights;" and Tikoy Aguiluz with "Boatman").

Mario O'Hara's "Bagong Hari" (The New King) takes the neorealism of "Maynila Sa
Kuko" and twists it even further, into baroque nightmare. O'Hara evokes a vast
and corrupt cesspool of a city, filled with predatory creatures constantly
feeding off each other. It's a city where assassinations are commonplace,
conspiracies are a standard mode of operation, and torture an occasional
recreational perk--a city where two people fight each other to the death, and
the decadent rich place bets over the outcome.

Of all the Manila films I've seen, "Bagong Hari" is the most violent and
extreme, which is only fitting--the film, like "Scorpio Nights," was made during
the final years of the Marcos regime, when the despair was at its most intense.
A few days later, the February revolution broke out, and "Bagong Hari"
disappeared in the political turmoil that followed, surviving only in the
memories of the few that saw it. If we grant for a moment that trends do not
strictly follow calendar cutoff dates...and that the films of the early '80s
were a direct result of what was begun in the mid-'70s...then "Bagong Hari"
should properly be called the last great film of the '70s Golden Age.

Personal visions

Mike De Leon's "Kisapmata" (Blink of an Eye), about a married couple forced to
live with the young bride's family, is almost defiantly outside of any trend and
movement. It does not pretend to any moral and social relevance, and its
intriguingly implicit political allegory (dealing, I think, with fascism)
remains that--intriguingly implicit. The story bears some resemblance to
Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining"--the intense claustrophobia, the deranged
father--with one crucial difference: De Leon's smaller-scaled film is far more
potent. In other words, De Leon may betray signs of outside influence, but his
unsettlingly ingrown vision is all his own.

There has been at least one (unsuccessful) attempt to remake the film
("Karnal"), and its unique views on family relations have made it the standard
by which similar films have been (unsuccessfully) measured ("Inagaw Mo Ang Lahat
Sa Akin" (Harvest Home) comes to mind). The fact remains that "Kisapmata" is
possibly one of the most perfect Filipino films ever made--as simple and
elegantly constructed as a nightmare.

Later in his career Lino Brocka would make more politically outspoken films
("Orapronobis" (Fight For Us) and "Bayan Ko" (My Country)) but it's his early
melodramas ("Maynila Sa Kuko," "Tinimbang") that, for me, really shine. They
have a richness to them, an ambiguity both moral and philosophical that you
don't find in his later, more didactic works.

Take "Insiang," about a young woman (Hilda Koronel in the title role) who is
raped by her mother's unscrupulous boyfriend (Mona Lisa plays the mother; Ruel
Vernal, the boyfriend). As simply and elegantly told as De Leon's "Kisapmata,"
it also has Brocka's incomparable documentary eye--capturing, as no other
filmmaker can capture, the squalor and sheer misery of Tondo and of Smoky
Mountain (the name of what is, literally, a mountain of garbage). "Insiang" is
from a TV script written by Mario O'Hara, who claims that he based the story on
what happened to his backyard neighbors. It is--in terms of intensity and
emotional impact--Brocka's finest achievement, and a classic of Philippine
cinema.

As mentioned earlier, Mario O'Hara wrote two of Brocka's best films--"Tinimbang"
and "Insiang." He first tried his hand at directing his own scripts with
"Mortal," an interesting failure; his second film however (again from his own
script) represents a quantum leap in quality--the great "Tatlong Taong Walang
Diyos" (Three Years Without God).

"Tatlong Taong" is set during the Japanese Occupation of the Philippines, in
World War II. Like "Insiang" or "Kisapmata," it defiantly refused to follow any
of the social and political trends popular at that time--and in fact, was
attacked for portraying the wartime Japanese as human beings. The picture has
flaws--some shaky scenes, a climax that doesn't quite work--yet in terms of
story, acting, and imagery, it's a great film, perhaps the greatest Filipino
film ever made. More, the picture is unique: it's the only film from a country
that has tasted firsthand the cruelty of Japanese soldiers that portrays those
soldiers in a sympathetic (yet honest) light. No other country with similar
experiences has done this--you only have to look at Chinese films like "Red
Sorghum" or "Farewell My Concubine" to realize just how much hatred for the
Japanese still survives, even today.

Bookends of a Golden Age

Two films stand at either side of the '70s Golden Age; significantly, both are
films about the making of films. One, "Pagdating Sa Dulo," is Ishmael Bernal's
remarkable debut film; the other, "Babae Sa Bubungang Lata," is O'Hara's no less
remarkable latest work (it had a budget even smaller than "Bagong
Bayani"--US25,000.00--and was shot in an impossible ten days).

It's instructive comparing the two. "Pagdating" is an angry and bitter satire,
about the pathetic working conditions that prevent Filipino filmmakers from
making good films. Implicit in that anger is the expectation that our
filmmakers can do better, and will (once, if ever, they get their act together).
"Bubungang Lata" speaks in a radically different tone of voice: the film does
its share of satirizing the sordid, squalid business that filmmaking has become
today, but the overarching emotion you come away with after watching the film is
one of nostalgia, even regret. "Bubungang Lata" has been described as an elegy
for the Filipino film industry--implying that the industry is dead, and that all
we can do is mourn its passing.

(Comments? Mail me at <noelv@...>)