In town recently to begin cobbling together a special section on Philippine independent cinema for the Busan Film Festival in October was Cho Young-jung, programmer for the festival. Cho (pronounced “Jo,” to differentiate from the usual pronunciation used by buddies in the corner sari-sari store) spent several days and nights shuttling to and from CCP and her quarters in Traders Hotel last March, viewing prospective entries to the special section with the help of CCP film coordinator Ed Cabagnot aka “Mr. C.” On the day before Cho was to return to Korea with a preliminary list and report to present to the Busan film fest director, Mr. C called for a meeting at Traders coffeeshop so Cho could meet with some writers for further consultations as well as to talk of a possible booklet to go with the Pinoy indie cinema project.
On tap was CCP special assistant Vicky Belarmino aka “Ms. B,” De La Salle professor and scriptwriter-director Doy del Mundo aka “Mr. D.,” and indie director-writer “Adolf Alix aka Mr. A.,” and yours truly on momentary leave from tra-la-la.
For starters there was chocolate cake and coffee and some pasta and halo-halo, and despite the rather unnerving way Mr. C referred to Cho in kanto-boy style, and without a single beer on the table, discussions soon began on the early entries to the programmer’s list for exhibition in that Korean port city in the autumn of 2009.
Insiang by Lino Brocka was sure to make it to the program, Cho said, it was one film that really made an impression on her. It is admittedly a classic, with both Brocka and lead actress Hilda Koronel in their prime, and if we’re not mistaken it was shown in Cannes in the mid-’70s to warm acclaim, although the powers that be in Manila at the time had reservations about the dirty realism style of depiction of the Manila slums so favored by Brocka, which has found spiritual offspring in the works of Brillante Mendoza and Jeffrey Jeturian. Insiang has even been transposed to theater, where it has also received favorable reviews, and veteran stage actress Mailes Kanapi essaying the role originally played by Mona Lisa.
Times it has been screened on TV, occasionally during marathon runs in Holy Week, it is clear the copy has held up well, the sexual dynamics as delicate and menacing as ever, how do you say it — walang kakupas kupas?
So Cho says Insiang is a shoo-in, to which we can only readily agree, but wait, could that really be considered independent cinema?
The name Lav Diaz was mentioned, and Cho was admittedly relieved that she was spared of having to view one of his interminable epics since she was already wearing a kind of neck brace as it is, but the resourceful Mr. C. said he has recommended to his fellow programmer Diaz’s Ang Kriminal ng Baryo Concepcion instead, whose running time is manageable because it was when the director “still knew how to edit.”
Kriminal holds a special place in the Diaz oeuvre because it is on record the director’s first full-length feature, coming just before the pito-pito experimentations that resulted in the bold mystery Hubad sa Ilalim ng Buwan that had the unforgettable Klaudia Koronel absentmindedly walking naked under the moonlight. Of the pito-pito Diaz is batchmates with Jeturian, but Kriminal exposes his longstanding predilection for Dostoevsky and the Russian novel, and partly explains his almost freeform expansion into the epic while maintaining his mastery of composition in digital black and white.
Okay, Diaz looks like a sure bet too, and add to the list Joey Gosiengfiao’s Temptation Island, a cult favorite whose following has grown by leaps and bounds.
Our programmer Cho, however, says she found the movie a bit anti-gay, or making discriminatory fun of homosexuals, and so politically incorrect in this day and age of enlightenment and Bebe Gandanghari. She is informed by our coffeeshop delegation that Temptation Island is in fact being remade into a stage play, which could further its underground reputation of camp and kitsch, indeed the best of the Pinoy B movies. Gosiengfiao is one of those underrated directors whose work is only now being noticed and fully appreciated, a pity because the recognition is largely posthumous.
Cho says she feels a bit iffy about Ishmael Bernal’s Himala, not least because the daunting crowd scenes seem a bit staged, although the Philippine section in Busan this October can’t do without a Nora Aunor film, and neither without a Bernal film, so we suggest Manila by Night though the copy CCP has is somewhat grainy, and Ms. B volunteers Merika by Gil Portes with La Aunor as lead.
Not to forget too the young turks that constitute the “new wave,” as represented by Mr. A., who has personally handed over to Cho a couple or so screeners for her careful perusal, although the Korean says she has seen Kadin the Goat and teasingly calls Mr. A. a “child abuser” for having the two child actors walk barefoot on the rolling terrain of Batanes in search of their pet goat.
The proposed Philippine section would comprise 12 films by 12 different directors, mostly full-length features. She isn’t too keen on shorts, which automatically scratches out Raymond Red’s best work, though the work-in-progress Ang Himpapawid could be finished by October to have its world premier in Busan.
A couple of documentaries could also be considered, Cho says, but they would really have to be good.
Some other possibilities: Lamberto Avellana’s film version of The Portrait of the Artist as Filipino in English as written by fellow National Artist Nick Joaquin; Eddie Romero’s The Passionate Strangers as precursor of Pinoy erotic cinema; works by Gerry de Leon, Celso Ad Castillo and Mike de Leon, as well as by Jon Red, Roxlee and Kidlat Tahimik; and a Cinemalaya subsection of jury winners, like say Brutus and Endo.
As of this writing we’re waiting for Ms. Cho’s final list of films, which she says should not have been previously screened in Busan, now on its 14th year.