‘And So It Begins’ feels more like a recap of 2022 elections than a compelling docu

CEBU, Philippines — For a documentary centered on the 2022 Philippine presidential elections, “And So It Begins” feels unsure of who its protagonist is supposed to be.

Directed by Ramona Diaz, the film follows then-opposition leader and former Vice President Leni Robredo who compared her time under President Rodrigo Duterte’s administration to a fraternity hazing and decided to run against Ferdinand Marcos Jr. for the presidential seat.

It also features journalist Maria Ressa, who continues to worry about the state of democracy in the Philippines while dealing with threats against her and her news company.

Midway through the documentary, we see an interaction between Robredo and Ressa when the vice president visits her office for an interview. From this scene, you can understand why Diaz chose to angle the film this way. Both women have been vocal critics of former President Duterte and often faced strong reactions when he mentioned them in his profanity-laced speeches. This might be Diaz’s way of saying that a politician and a journalist — usually on different sides — are both subjected to scrutiny under a populist leader.

But based on the footage, the two women seem to be on different trajectories. While Robredo was busy running her presidential campaign, Ressa was in Oslo accepting the Nobel Peace Prize. Because of this, the documentary feels disjointed in its narrative.

Despite Robredo being central in the film’s promotion (with a noticeable emphasis on the color pink), “And So It Begins” fails to provide a deeper exploration of her life outside politics.

It does reveal a few things about Robredo, such as how the People Power Revolution shifted her from an apolitical stance. Yet it overlooks crucial details, like the pivotal role her late husband Jesse Robredo played in her decision to enter politics after his passing.

This documentary could have delved deeper into Robredo’s life. How is she as a mother to her three daughters? Why, as a public official, does she continue to take public transportation when visiting her hometown in Bicol? And perhaps most importantly, what drives her supporters?

A more focused approach could have highlighted the grassroots support behind Robredo’s campaign. The documentary briefly shows scenes of a gay beauty queen performing at a rally, an online volunteer who reports anti-Robredo comments from trolls on Facebook, volunteers (including actor Jaime Fabregas) singing at a market to win over voters, and two Spider-Men embracing at a rally.

But it doesn’t dig deep into the motivations behind their support for Robredo, nor does it showcase how diverse her supporters are. For instance, we see glimpses of K-pop fans holding lightsticks at rallies, but the film misses an opportunity to ask why they’re using their love of K-pop as an extension of their support for Robredo as president.

The 90-minute docu falls short of providing a cohesive narrative about the 2022 Philippine elections, which is disappointing compared to Diaz’s previous documentary “A Thousand Cuts”, available to watch on PBS Frontline’s YouTube channel.

In “A Thousand Cuts”, Ressa is clearly the protagonist, but the film also brings in perspectives from Senator Ronald ‘Bato’ dela Rosa, Mocha Uson, and Samira Gutoc, illustrating the high stakes of Duterte’s presidency, particularly concerning the war on drugs and the disinformation on social media.

In contrast, “And So It Begins” portrays the Marcos-Duterte alliance as vaguely ominous, expecting viewers to understand why their partnership is controversial. Filipinos may already know the context, but what about those who saw the film at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year?

The American audience at Sundance is still grappling with the consequences of Donald Trump’s presidency that seeped into President Joe Biden’s administration. The documentary fails to explain why an election in a Southeast Asian country should matter to them, particularly with Kamala Harris running as the Democratic nominee against Trump in this November’s election.

Much of the footage focusing on Ressa could have been reserved for a proper follow-up to “A Thousand Cuts.” While her expertise on why Robredo is a target of online  disinformation is relevant in the documentary, her time in Oslo doesn’t seem essential to the context of the election.

The film also doesn’t clarify why it’s titled that way. We know how the 2022 elections ended. Robredo lost to Marcos Jr., but she and her supporters will continue to champion “radical love” during his presidency, signaling that this “pink” movement is just the beginning.

But how does it really begin when the documentary ends on such a vague note? It doesn’t even show that Robredo and her supporters have continued her work through Angat Buhay, the program she started as vice president, now running as a non-government organization.

Ultimately, the documentary’s flaws lie in its inability to fully utilize its footage to craft a compelling narrative about the elections and the people it featured. You’d likely learn more about Robredo from a vlog posted by TV Patrol anchor Karen Davila than from this documentary that feels like a missed opportunity. Two stars out of five. — (FREEMAN)