Little movies that could
Blockbuster hits get reviews all around; it’s high time we start writing about small films. By “small” I mean those with limited release in local theaters, not necessarily underground videos dredged out from notorious Quiapo. Hordes of indie groupies might throw me out for categorizing these films as small because many of them have received a good amount of attention, but what I like about the 11 here is that they are extremely watchable — whether you’re a mainstream loyalist or an alternative junkie. They are the in-betweens that need a little more push into the public mind space, and if we get lucky then maybe this is where the film industry could be headed. I tried to keep it to the top 10, but the film buff in me doesn’t have the heart to bump anyone off the list.
No. 11: Bowling for Columbine (2002). Synopsis: Following the events of the Columbine shooting where two students open fire at their high school, Michael Moore investigates America’s gun culture that has spawned an unprecedented amount of trigger-happy violence in the country.
Why it’s on the list: Michael Moore made a lot of noise here, with critics lambasting his chop-chop style where he pastes together selected scenes to make Michigan look like hell on earth. But that’s really what drives us to do violent things anyway: a string of specific events that push us over the edge. Moore simply sifts out the sequence that must be running through a teenager’s head before he kills 12 classmates and one teacher. The best scenes in the movie are the eerie ones like when the song What a Wonderful World plays over a montage of violent war crimes. There is also the surprisingly insightful interview with Marilyn Manson who was partially blamed for “influencing teenage violence” after the shooting. Using witty parody to illustrate America’s culture of violence that teeters on the absurd, this unnerving documentary elicits social awareness without having to try.
No wonder the critics are making such a fuss: we all wish none of it was real.
No. 10: Paris Je T’aime (2007). Synopsis: Eighteen directors come together with 18 separate love stories in Paris, each sequence of varying length and with its own cast of characters. Natalie Portman is smitten with a deaf Frenchman, Elijah Wood becomes intoxicated with a vampire on the street, and Maggie Gyllenhaal develops a certain attachment to her weed dealer.
Why it’s on the list: Maybe it’s Humphrey Bogart telling Ingrid Bergman they’ll always have Paris, but we are somehow made to believe that the secret of romance lies in the enchanting City of Light.
With each sequence lasting only about five minutes, there is not much time to tell a story along the usual elements of a plot. That may be the best part of this movie, because we are left without cheesy pick-up lines and doe-eyed exchanges coupled with sentimental music. What is left are these raw pieces that give romance its magic — a collection of enchanting snapshots that make you wish they were the only things love is made of.
No. 9: The Virgin Suicides (1999). Synopsis: Director Sofia Coppola brings to life Jeffrey Eugenides’ coming-of-age novel, which centers on the suicides of the five Lisbon sisters. Narrated by neighborhood boys who were infatuated with the girls, The Virgin Suicides is a light yet inexplicably chilling reconstruction of how and why five teenage sisters mysteriously take their own lives.
Why it’s on the list: Movies adapted from great books are usually unable to become great themselves for a simple reason — what makes a book great doesn’t easily translate to the big screen. It’s really a Catch-22: if the film strays too far from the book then it fails to become a meaningful adaptation at all. Sofia Coppola’s Virgin Suicides beats the catch. Eugenides’ novel is unforgettable because of its detailed imagery describing adolescence at its most precious stages — miraculously, the movie successfully brings that fragile, intoxicating atmosphere to the screen. “We knew the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.” This is one of those rare, delicious movies with an aftertaste you will relish for a very long time.
No. 8: Persepolis (2007). Synopsis: Based on her best-selling graphic novel, Marjane Satrapi brings her true-to-life story to the screen using the same cartoon format. Persepolis depicts Marjane’s childhood during a tumultuous era in Iran, when it was undergoing a civil war and at the same time blocking off attacks from neighbor Iraq. Set against a remarkable time in history, Persepolis shows how Marjane loses herself in the chaos of her times — and ultimately, how she finds her way back.
Why it’s on the list: We’ve seen enough gory war movies showing beheaded soldiers and bloody battlefields. In fact, the bloodier the movie, the bigger splash it makes at the box office. Persepolis does away with that by using the graphic novel format, and the result is a nonviolent yet deeply effective proof of how senseless wars can be. Still, the movie never loses its focus on Marjane’s own life story, finding that elusive yet indisputable link between the events of the world and the repercussions they have on the people from those times.
No. 7: Amélie (2001). Synopsis: Amélie Poulain (Audrey Tatou) is an ordinary young woman who sees the world in her own magical way. A waitress in an obscure Parisian café, Amélie resolves to be a “do-gooder” and tries to improve the lives of those around her, even as she strains with her own isolation and loneliness. With a narrator in the background who describes things through Amélie’s eyes, the film uses strong vibrant colors to make everyday things magical — and to show how the tiny miracles in life are much more special than we often care to notice.
Why it’s on the list: Amélie is not a literal narrative; it is everything but that. In fact, the best thing about it is its surreality, and the film indulges you without having to surrender to tear-jerking drama or life lessons. Magical and evocative, the film magnifies small pleasures: a box of old toys, an odd romance between lonely crazies, skipping stones on the lake. The film brings metaphors to life, where a heart pounding in the chest lights up on the screen with a life of its own and a garden troll travels around the world. Just like its little trinkets and treasures, Amélie proves that movies don’t have to be about big things to be truly great.
No. 6: Tarnation (2003). Synopsis: A film autobiography, Tarnation (as in the expression, “What in tarnation?!”) documents the life of Jonathan Caouette who has been filming parts of his life since childhood. Jonathan uses a montage of psychedelic film clips to reconstruct his life story that is colored with drugs, abuse and depression. By compiling old photos, recorded phone conversations and homemade videos, Jonathan creates layers of personal memories that put his life in motion.
Why it’s on the list: In Tarnation, Jonathan serves his life up on a dish, allowing his own flashbacks to be savored as they truly happened. Jonathan makes you wish you had recorded film clips of yourself when you were 13 or 17, and even now you feel like grabbing a video cam and recording this piece of your life. Who needs to write an autobiographical book if you can show it all as it really was — when you can just open the door inside your head and let people in? Jonathan says of his mother, “She’s in my hair, behindmy eyes, under my skin” — and that’s really where he takes us.
Despite the drugs and abuse, Tarnation doesn’t turn out to be depressing. In fact, the movie struggles to remind us that even as life has its poisons, if we could somehow push our heads out of the hole then we won’t have to choke on the bad stuff. As Jonathan quotes from Desiderata, “With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.” Indeed.
No. 5: Big Fish (2003). Synopsis: One of Tim Burton’s lighter films, Big Fish is a fantasy father-and-son drama. After having a fall-out for three years, Will tries to reconcile with his sick father Edward (the young Edward is played by Ewan McGregor). Edward is a fantastic storyteller who exaggerates his life story with experiences so incredible they are impossible to believe. Will resents his father for his unrealistic fairy tales and sets on a mission to uncover Edward’s true life story.
Why it’s on the list: As children, we worship our parents as superhumans who have the answer to everything. As adults, whether consciously or not, we learn to stand in their shadow, seeing the world from their eyes just as they described it. In Big Fish, Tim Burton captures the image a father wants to leave in the eyes of his son, and makes it come to life the way only a child’s imagination can. Big Fish ingeniously blurs the line between literal and non-literal until you can no longer decipher which is which: big red cars hang from trees and enormous giants cross the street with everyone else. As an audience we journey the same path that Will takes: beginning the film as cryptic non-believers of Edward’s tales, only to discover that truth and make-believe may not have to be so different after all.
No. 4: Not One Less (1999). Synopsis: Set in one of rural China’s poor villages, Not One Less tells the story of 13-year-old Wei Minzi who is assigned to become a substitute teacher to 28 students aged six to 10. Because the children are poor, many of them usually stop going to school to help out with the family income. Wei is instructed that when the real teacher comes back after a month, all the students must still be in class and “not one less.” When the class troublemaker Zhang disappears into the city to find work, Wei embarks on a journey to find him and goes through extensive difficulties to make sure she brings him back.
Why it’s on the list: Director Yimou Zhang has created such an authentic feel that this movie almost seems like a documentary. The child actors play themselves in an absolutely charming way and when the credits start rolling at the end, you realize how much you’ve come to really love the characters.
Zhang delightfully captures the aching innocence of children to whom everything is black and white, right before the world taints them with gray-scaled definitions of right and wrong. Not One Less is quite possibly one of the simplest, most
No. 3: Little Miss Sunshine (2006). Synopsis: The Hoovers are like any American family — or any family for that matter — each member screwed up in their own endearing way. There is the suicidal gay uncle (Steve Carell), the motivational speaker dad (Greg Kinnear), the angst-driven Nietzsche-loving teenager Dwayne (Paul Dano), the swearing punk grandfather (Alan Arkin), the seven-year-old rather plump Olive (Abigail Breslin), and the frustrated mother Sheryl (Toni Colette) who is desperately trying to hold her family together. When Olive gets invited to the Little Miss Sunshine beauty pageant by accident, the whole family decides to come along. What ensues is a road trip that will simultaneously tear them apart and bring them together, all with the hope that their bruised little family just might make it after all.
Why it’s on the list: The great success that Little Miss Sunshine turned out to be really belongs to the cast. Abigail Breslin has been declared the next big thing for a reason and Toni Colette is her usual fantastic self; but the surprising find here is Paul Dano as Dwayne. After not saying a word for the entirety of the film, Dwayne finally bursts and the scene is just incredible — a culmination of every emotion the film has been building up with. There are films we admire for their magnificent filmmaking abilities, and then there are those we fall in love with so that years later, the pleasure of having watched it still elicits in us a squeak of delight. Little Miss Sunshine becomes the latter as it wears its heart on its sleeve, making us feel like voyeurs watching the characters in their most intimate, uninhibited moments. With its lovable characters whose screwed-upness very much mirrors our own, the movie strikes in us that ray of sunshine we could all use a little bit of.
No. 2: Behind the Sun (2001). Synopsis: The year is 1910, and two poor families in Brazil are engaged in a deep-rooted feud over a piece of barren land. Twenty-year-old Tonio (Rodrigo Santoro) is the second of three brothers, the eldest of whom has been killed by the rival family. Feud tradition dictates that Tonio must now avenge the family death by hunting down his brother’s killer, after which it will then be Tonio’s turn to be killed (in short, “ubusan ng lahi”).
Why it’s on the list: The characters may not say much, but Behind the Sun explodes with overwhelming intensity. The landscape is gorgeous: at one point the characters chase each other across a forest of blue, green and gray colors, and all you can hear is a staccato of rifle shots amidst the deafening silence of early dawn. It doesn’t hurt either to have your main character as beautiful as Santoro, whose big sorrowful eyes clearly evoke the terror of a young man fighting for his chance at life. The scenes are overpowering in their silence, as when Tonio and his father watch the bloodstained shirt of his dead brother swinging in the breeze, waiting for the stain to turn yellow so Tonio could hunt down his brother’s killer. The movie doesn’t talk much indeed — but ultimately, and perhaps through its silence, Behind the Sun finds a way to say everything.
No. 1: City of God (2003). Synopsis: Ciudad de Dios (City of God) revolves around life in the slums of Rio de Janiero, a city suffering decades of violent unrest proliferated by youth gangs. Local gang lords are young men who have not grown facial hair, and the most heinous gang is a bunch of preteen boys. From the very first scene where a chicken flails about as it is sheared and scalded in boiling water, City of God is a visceral eye-opener that holds you helplessly captive.
Why it’s on the list: In the course of one’s oft-boring lifetime, some great things happen that make you go, “What the hell just happened?” When City of God happens to you, there is no turning back.
You are no longer just any movie lover; you are now a lover of movies like City of God. This is not an easy movie to watch — how could it be? Ten-year-old boys run through the streets with machine guns in their hands, threatening to shoot down anyone who stands in their way. Cesar Charlone’s cinematography shines gloriously in this film: the camera flutters powerfully to pit one scene against the next, relentlessly bombarding you with shocking images of such casual brutality that you find yourself gasping for air. Maybe one day, films can be magnificent without being terrifying, but for now, City of God becomes the very reason we watch movies at all.
Maybe I stand corrected. This article isn’t really about small films, because there is nothing small about them. So what if most of them are low-budget, so what if they didn’t get an expensive cast (some of them even did) or a billionaire distributor? Movies should be about more than that. We watch 120 minutes of film because we believe the filmmakers have a story to tell, something to say that will make its own little dent in the world. Well, these films have put up a good fight, and the movie industry — where vulgarity is cloaked as art and imitation stands for originality — has been more bearable because they’ve tried hard, and hopefully, because we continue to let them.
