Film review: Gatas

Feeding with the enemy

Now this may be beyond the recall of some readers; but in the 1970’s, during the height of the movement to extricate from the Vietnam War, there appeared in the United States a curious genre of film. They were classified as anti-war films. They were simplistic, direct and at times, naïve. But they uniformly portrayed war as atrocious. As complex as the story could become; they always concluded with the realization that no matter which character you were, no matter which side you were on, no matter your reasons for entering or refusing to enter the fray, everyone lost out as "war took no prisoners." Gatas (a Crown Seven production) is reminiscent of these films.

The storyline (by Butch Dalisay) is linear. Set during the Japanese Occupation, we follow the plight of a rural nuclear family. Diego (Jomari Yllana), fisherman and husband of Pilar (Mylene Dizon, in her first starring role); is captured by the Japanese, accused and tortured for being a guerilla. Rushing to the garrison run by Capt. Hiroshi Sugimoto (Kenji Marquez Motoki in his first movie role); Pilar intercedes on Diego’s behalf and discovers that Hiroshi has a Filipino wife who is about to give birth. Saddled with her own newborn (the healthiest war baby I‘ve seen), Pilar’s motherly instincts are aroused when Hiroshi’s wife dies at childbirth. Having secured Diego’s release (which Diego never fully understands and harbors suspicious about – think praning, or perhaps it’s foreshadowing), and aware of the shortage of milk because of the war; Pilar’s gratitude to Hiroshi expresses itself in her offer to be wet nurse to Hiroshi‘s son. From this point, the complications; and the left breast exposures (and one right), ensue. Pilar’s maternal sensibilities are set against patriotism. Add to this a husband who can not understand her compassion for this "Japanese" infant; and conflict arises.

Gil Portes once again exhibits his deft directorial touch; his sure hand with actors. He relates how for this film, he was inspired by a painting he saw at the Hermitage in St. Petersburg (when Saranggola competed in the Moscow International Film Festival). By the Italian painter Artemisia, it depicted a grown daughter breast-feeding her thirsty father, who was on his way to the guillotine. This powerful image acted as the impetus for the film.

To their credit, Gil and Butch make their characters multi-dimensional. The Japanese are not a uniform horde of pillagers and sadistic conquerors. Hiroshi seriously loves his Filipino wife, and early on, talks of how their child will be both Japanese and Filipino; a representative of a new "race." He is visibly squeamish when Diego is tortured, and makes fun of the more barbaric among them, recognizing the "blood lust" which drives some of the soldiers under him. While very conscious of the tradition and duty he must conform to and perform; there is compunction and a desire to rule with benevolence.

The Filipinos are also complex creations. The guerillas, as befits the nature of the time and situation, suspend certain moral considerations. While Pilar tries to plead her case for the innocence of the children, whether Japanese or Filipino; the guerillas are more than willing to use infants as unwitting pawns for negotiation and blackmail. Diego, driven by confusion and the community’s chatter about Pilar’s relationship with Hiroshi’s child; at one point commits, what for all intents and purposes, can only be termed as marital rape. Pilar, with her naïve and idealistic maternal instincts is practically driven to Hiroshi by the ridicule and scorn heaped on her by both the Filipinos (including her husband) and the Japanese soldiers. In sharp contrast to the stereo-typical collaborator who with basket on head points out the suspected guerillas to the Japanese, we see how the seeds of collaboration are planted and developed on the part of Pilar.

Filmed in Tayabas, Batangas and Cavite; Gatas takes pain in recreating the look of that period of our history. In what may have been a conscious effort to concentrate on the story, the cinematography is kept simple and uncluttered. The lighting is similarly kept direct and uncomplicated. It’s almost as if we are transported to that time, being shown a film in the way films were made then.

Simply put, this is Mylene’s film. There’ll be stories about how she was the umpteenth choice; but it’s what she did once chosen that counts. Made up with that ‘no make-up look,’ the film radiates whenever she’s present. With the richness of the role, Gil and Mylene ensure underplaying is the order of the day; and it works beautifully – especially in the sensitive scenes. In fact, with all the nudity in the film, it’s surprising how our recall of the film remains the story and not those scenes.

There was a comment made that, of course, Mylene would shine as she’s acting between a rock (bato) and a boulder. Now that’s pretty unkind. I haven’t seen a lot of Jomari films; but in this one, his impassive portrayal is very much in character. Diego is a simple fisherman; trapped in events and situations that are bigger than the man. His responses are basic; he gets drunk, he sulks, he suffers in silence, or lashes out with revenge in mind. From duty to work and family; it becomes duty to a cause and to country. To the extent to which this is required of the role, Jomari comes through with flying colors.

As for the "boulder," this is Kenji‘s first film and once again, the lack of histrionics is entirely appropriate for the role he’s playing. He’s a stoic Japanese soldier, a stranger in a strange land; one compelled to stay uninvolved and yet gets drawn into a relationship with one he is supposed to "rule over." With that in mind, it‘s a sensitive portrayal that Kenji creates; the dearth of emotion mirroring the need to "keep a distance," to stay Japanese.

This is by no means a grandiose, epic of a film. It’s a direct, uncomplicated retelling with a bigger message – that in war, there are no winners.