Cinema paradiso
MANILA, Philippines - Filipino indie cinema has long had a bad reputation for its unforgiving portrayals of the realities many of us refuse to face. Often set in the grittiest of places, these modest productions feature stories of profound poverty, graphic sexuality and gut-churning violence. But these provocative scenes, which before would shock scores of impressionable audiences, are now derided as stereotypical representations of a nation’s identity.
It’s highly refreshing, then, to see a proliferation of independently produced films that are not only visually appetizing but offer a glimpse of life beyond the trash-filled estuaries of gritty Manila. Cinema One Original’s recently concluded 2011 Digital Film Festival offers a broad range of genres that feature films that give voice to stories from Maguindanao and Nueva Vizcaya. In fact, the Cebu leg of the festival highlighted the stunning oeuvres of young Cebuano filmmakers.
Award-winning director Remton Siega Zuasola’s equally lauded film Ang Damgo ni Eleuteria (Eleuteria’s Dream) chronicles the short journey of a young girl on Olango island in Cebu who has been bartered by her parents as a mail-order bride to an older German fellow. Terya is torn between her simple aspirations and her family’s growing debt, making her realize that whatever she chooses will hurt someone she deeply cares about.
The story is remarkably simple, with beautifully flawed characters and a good splash of local color. Gregg Tecson, who plays Terya’s father, has the emotional range of a thermometer — he can make you laugh with his ridiculous quips but can burn the heart out of you when watching him bid his eldest daughter good-bye. Getting into the nitty-gritty of the titular character and her parents’ squabble may seem a bit dragging at times, but it is this unapologetic realness that makes it just as captivating. Audaciously shot in real-time, the film examines the magnitude of our ambitions and inevitable choices that we make due to our desires without coming across as pretentiously didactic.
My Paranormal Romance As challenge to the notion that Philippine cinema is strongly Manila-centric, director Victor Villanueva wrote My Paranormal Romance in the Visayan. After consulting with a psychic, Merry ends up inheriting the power of the third eye. Hi-jinks ensue and hearts are broken, but everything goes well in the end when the heroine realizes that like in most fairy tales, love conquers all.
Much like the Tagalog romcoms made popular by cheesy love teams, My Paranormal Romance is light on the plot but heavy on the gags. It is great to see a director who doesn’t take himself too seriously, though, with the experimental subtitles (setting certain words in Curlz MT or using Yahoo! Messenger emoticons) and the main characters occasionally breaking the fourth wall. While far from being a probing social satire, the film proves that language is never a barrier in having a rollicking good time.
Staying within the confines of the occult is zombie film Di Ingon ‘Nato (Not Like Us). Set in a remote mountain village in Cebu, the entire community is drawn into the core of an enigma that gradually turns into a horrifying epidemic. Paradoxically, directors Brandon Relucio and Ivan Zaldarriaga wanted to pay homage to the zombie genre in a way that Filipino audiences can relate to, but chose to present a film in the Visayan to isolate the film, giving audiences an unsettling sense of alienation.
The merits of a good horror movie lies within the technicalities, and Di Ingon ‘Nato does not scrimp on the good stuff. The eerily peaceful forestry treated in dark tones coupled with a haunting musical score is a match made in zombie movie heaven. The zombies themselves may probably need a bit of decaying to do (there’s something odd about a running zombie who still possesses an obvious streak of vitality), but seeing them feast on the helpless villagers was a disturbing thrill. Rock deity Franco Reyes wielding an iták would probably drive the fangirls up the wall with his role as the heartbroken husband of a newly-turned zombie, but veteran Rez Cortez shines as the town’s sturdy barangay captain. Long gratuitous shots of Mercedes Cabral doing the laundry and goats grazing may hamper the movie’s pace, but somehow provide repose when juxtaposed with the horrors that the living dead bring. And in this film, the horrors are plentiful.
Although Six Degrees of Separation of Lilia Cuntapay was set in Manila, the story of the horror movie bit player may have a name that no one remembers, but has a face that is etched in the collective memory of contemporary Filipino filmgoers. Cuntapay is followed around by director Antoinette Jadaone in a mockumentary about her first nomination after a showbiz career that spans three decades. Between the constant rewriting of her speech where she attempts to thank everyone she has ever worked with, she struggles with difficult directors, her relative anonymity, and the resistance to her unending dedication to the craft.
Creating a fluid mix of fact and fiction, the film is charmingly shot with a handheld camera, with Cuntapay and Jadaone openly conversing with each other. The unassuming cinematography, with the camera operator explicitly adjusting the device’s settings once in a while, adds to the illusion that Jadaone is Big Brother, capturing the unrehearsed theatricality of Cuntapay’s life. The protagonist’s home serves as the principal setting for the film, and her story is populated by witty characters who almost always have advice to dispense, even when it is highly unsolicited. The star, of course, revels in the metafictional version of herself, effortlessly drawing out laughter and sympathy from her besotted spectators. Six Degrees is wonderful in its masterful ability to express our hopes through the eyes of a seasoned movie extra, as if to tell us that in most cases, dreams have no expiration dates.
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Catch the newest batch of cinematic gems at Cinema One’s 2012 Digital Film Festival, coming this November.
