Sunday Beauty Queen (Baby Ruth Villarama, Metro Manila Film Festival 2016)

 
This exceptional movie was high on my list of must-watch films at the Metro Manila Film Festival 2016 (MMFF). I first learned of its miraculous entry into the festival during a film forum in November 2016. I was happy to hear the good news from moderator Ed Cabagnot. I was impressed by filmmaker Baby Ruth Villarama-Gutierrez’s previous documentary Little Azkals and looked forward to seeing her latest work.

Sunday Beauty Queen highlights the inner beauty of hardworking Filipina domestic helpers in Hong Kong. During Sundays, they converge in public places and indulge in their favorite activities and hobbies. The focus of the documentary is a group of domestic helpers joining and organizing beauty contests. Their imperfections, terrible grammar, and embarrassing experiences are laid out in the open. They may not have faces and bodies like those of our Miss Universe and Miss World winners but they are confidently beautiful with big, big hearts.

Filmmaker Gutierrez, whose mother is a former domestic helper, portrays such Overseas Filipino Workers as a boon not only to their families and country but also to the whole world. Fellow filmmaker Jack Soo, an employer of a domestic helper/beauty contestant, says that if the Philippine government decides to stop the influx of Filipina domestic helpers to Hong Kong, China, and other countries, the world will be in big trouble. Singapore barged into the list of Olympic gold winning countries courtesy of a young swimmer who proudly claimed to have been raised by a Filipina nanny. A Chinese ballet teacher says employing a Filipina maid is worth every dollar spent. The average monthly salary of a Filipina domestic helper is $550 dollars, which is equivalent to the salary of a junior executive in the Philippines.

The documentary will put a smile on your face just like the infectious smile of Filipino tourist Chuck Gutierrez, film editor, producer and husband of the filmmaker. No matter where they are, Filipinos will always show their sense of humor, peculiarities, and idiosyncrasies. There’s a Filipina cook in Hong Kong who takes pictures of her Pinoy food dishes neatly arrayed on a rectangular table. Her primary objective is to make her Facebook friends envious of her. Another Filipina gets the boot from her employer after breaking a curfew. She was so engrossed joining a beauty contest that she lost track of time. Or maybe she’d had enough of working for her employer. There are tales told of ruthless employers but there are also heartwarming stories about Chinese employers treating Filipina domestic helpers as part of family.

Sunday Beauty Queen is a more impressive documentary than Little Azkals. The latter took some time before it gets things rolling. Sunday Beauty Queen plunges immediately to the lives of colorful characters. I liked it better than the three local documentaries shown at the Cinema One Originals Festival 2016.

The inclusion of Sunday Beauty Queen to the MMFF justifies the revamped selection process. I’ve seen three other entries and they are quite good. So far, there are no fillers among the entries. Bravo! Take a bow, members of the MMFF executive and selection committees.

Forbidden Memory (Teng Mangansakan, Cinema One Originals 2016 Best Documentary Winner)

Recollection of atrocities during Martial Law played a big part in the build-up to the People Power Uprising in 1986. The courageous bearers of stories risked their lives to expose the violent, corrupt nature of the Marcos administration.

The wellspring of horrendous Martial Law stories has yet to dry up. With the hushed and rushed burial of President Ferdinand Marcos at the Libingan ng mga Bayani, Martial Law victims are coming out with their stories.

Forbidden Memory documents eyewitness accounts of the gruesome massacre of more than 1,500 adult males in Palisbong, Sultan Kudarat in September 1974.

The documentary consists basically of a barrage of talking heads. However, filmmaker Teng Mangansakan alternated the interviewees. Generally, four to six persons talk about the circumstances of the incident. This editing device serves to concretize the horrendous communal experience.

It is not only one family that felt military abuse. Hundreds of families were greatly affected by the wanton criminal act of the soldiers. Women and children were put on board naval ships. The adult males were then herded and subsequently killed. Their only fault was that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Towards the end of Forbidden Memory, the issue of a Marcos burial at the Libingan ng mga Bayani springs out in the open. More than three decades have passed but the anger towards the Marcos administration still seethes among the survivors. They do not want him to be buried honorably. One frail, elderly woman regretted not having been the one to kill President Marcos.

To the millennials interested in learning more about the Marcoses, the 20-year reign of President Marcos, and the Martial Law era, check out the following films from a variety of directors:

1)      Bayan Ko: Kapit sa Patalim (Lino Brocka) – a desperate, laid-off worker is forced to commit a crime
2)      Dekada ’70 (Chito Roño) - a middle class family supports the idealism of a young activist
3)      Forbidden Memory (Teng Mangansakan) – survivors speak out against the perpetrators of the September 1974 massacre in Mindanao
4)      Imelda (Ramona Diaz) – documentary on the idiosyncrasies of the wife of President Ferdinand Marcos
5)      Ka Oryang (Sari Lluch Dalena) – a female medical student decides to serve the people
6)      Mula Sa Kung Ano ang Noon (Lav Diaz) – militarization during the pre-Martial Law era
7)      Pisay (Kanakan Balintagos) – a group of high school scholars gets caught up in the Yellow fever
8)      Sakada (Behn Cervantes) – sugarcane farmers fight for their rights
9)      Sister Stella L. (Mike de Leon) – an awakened religious sister urges the audience to go out in the streets and fight the Marcos dictatorship
10)   Working Girls (Ishmael Bernal) – a lady boss with the initials C.A. battles male chauvinist pigs and breaks the glass ceiling
 

Salamat sa Alaala (Dik Trofeo, Cinemalaya 2015 Exhibition)

 

Gerardo 'Manong Gerry' de Leon was the first Filipino filmmaker to be bestowed the title of National Artist in 1982. The nostalgic documentary Salamat sa Alaala showed that he was a true maestro and a gentleman. He was well-loved by his colleagues and family. 

A major revelation for me was that Manong Gerry came from the Ilagan clan. He was born Gerardo Ilagan on September 12, 1913. His father, Hermogenes Ilagan, was considered the father of sarzuela. The Ilagans were royalty on the theatre and movie industries. Manong Gerry took on the de Leon surname to differentiate himself from his siblings and relatives working in the film industry. He was not related to Mike de Leon. But, he was related to Robert Arevalo, Ronaldo Valdez, and Jay Ilagan.

A pleasant surprise from the Trofeo docu were generous footages from Manong Gerry's unfinished film Juan de la Cruz. The colorful costumes and Manong Gerry's obsession on getting an iron befitting the period depicted in the film speak volumes about the grandeur and realism of the epic. Juan de la Cruz could have been a major entry in the filmographies of the two National Artists involved in the film, namely actor Fernando Poe Jr. and director Manong Gerry.

An actors' director is what they call Manong Gerry. Pancho Magalona gave the performance of his life as Simoun in El Filibusterismo. Joseph Estrada acceded to playing a supporting role in the Moises Padilla Story just to be directed by Manong Gerry. Anita Linda, who recalled suffering a head wound from a fall during a shooting, won her first acting award in 1951 for the film Sisa.

Acclaimed directors Peque Gallaga and Lav Diaz had effusive praise for the master director, Manong Gerry. Lav Diaz indirectly touched on the sad fate of de Leon's mythic masterpiece, Ang Daigdig ng Mga Api. There is no existing print for the 1965 film, which swept all the major awards at the FAMAS awards. However, gushing raves from veteran cinephiles attest that the film could probably have been the best Filipino film of the 20th century.
 
Thank you to the Cinemalaya organizers for screening this heartwarming documentary. It brought back wonderful memories of viewing the master works of Gerardo de Leon.

I hope this docu, by film director and photographer Dik Trofeo, will entice young viewers to seek out and devour the films of Manong Gerry. His epic films, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo may be in black-and-white but both are sumptuously shot and designed that they eclipse visually any recent Filipino period films.

My favorite de Leon film is Sisa. If there is such a thing as an Ilustrado film, then that film is Sisa, based on a character from Jose Rizal's novel Noli Me Tangere. The film is like a lamp shedding light on the abuses by the Spaniards and their minions during the 19th century. Viewers will definitely end up enlightened and mesmerized by the stunning mise-en-scene compositions of Manong Gerry de Leon.

The Cinema of Celso Ad Castillo (Produced by Byron Ron Bryant, 2009)

A lot of movie industry people were interviewed for the documentary titled The Cinema of Celso Ad Castillo. Some of them call him Maestro. Others look up to him as a genius. Lav Diaz affectionately describes him as a madman. But, I tend to agree most with their observations that Castillo is a visual artist par excellence.

One of the best visual stylists in local cinema, Castillo was aptly described by Peque Gallaga as a lucky cinematic animal. The heavens and the weather conspire to create a picturesque moment every time he shoots a film. Castillo admits to having fits over the setting up of his first ever camera placement. But, once he got over it, he goes on to utilize his being a former comic book illustrator to paint beautifully-framed stories.

Check out the Dutch angles of his horror classics. The coffin being carried out of the hearse seems to have a 3-D effect of trying to break through the screen. The eerie mirror reflection of Ruth's diabolical glare still brings shiver to the spine. The haunting visuals and spooky soundtrack bolster the reputation of Patayin Mo Sa Sindak Si Barbara as a scary terrifying flick.

There's a story behind the famous wet look popularized by beauty queen Gloria Diaz in Ang Pinakamagandang Hayop sa Balat ng Lupa. She narrates how she was showered with lots of movie contracts after her return from the United States. From those offers, she chooses Castillo's. She was so impressed with the filmmaker's Patayin Mo Sa Sindak Si Barbara that she promptly said yes. New and still naive in the film industry, she hikes off to location shooting with nary a change of clothing and underwear. The film crew accompanies her to a nearby town to look for a bra. The available ones for sale are so bad Diaz decides not to wear a bra in the movie. Since the movie is set along the sea coast, there are shots of Diaz in a wet, see-through dress. The catfight between Diaz and Elizabeth Oropesa on the coastline is the stuff that wet dreams are made of.

Castillo went on to do much more revealing films for the Manila International Film Festival and the Experimental Cinema of the Philippines. His films Virgin People and Snake Sisters emerged as top-grossing flicks. There is a clip from Snake Sisters that shows Castillo's wicked sense of framing. We see a young scantily-clad female hunter searching for a prey. With her body crouched low, her posterior is prominently seen and surrounding it are dozens of erect phallic sticks.

I remember reading an article that says that of all the sex films shown at the Manila Film Center during the Marcos era, Castillo's Isla was said to have had the horniest effect on the audience. The story seems to imply that the Film Center insider based his assessment on the sticky state of the theater after a full-house screening of the film. A tantalizingly nude Maria Isabel Lopez frolicking in the sands and sea is simply too much to handle for itching viewers.

Castillo loves casting beautiful women in his films. He also adores the sea and the rain. Almost always there is a scene in his films set along the waters or set during a rainy day. Ron Bryant, a protege of Castillo, indirectly paid tribute by directing a Cinema One Originals film titled Alon, a story of a pretty, nubile girl vacationing at a seacoast village. Bryant upped the ante by helping create this eye-opening documentary.

The best visual revelation I'd discovered from the documentary was seeing traces of Fernando Amorsolo in Castillo's agrarian film Ang Alamat ni Julian Makabayan. The enchanting sunlight bathing the fields, the colorful attire of the farmers, and the framing of the daily rituals allude to several paintings of Amorsolo. Aside from the visual references to Amorsolo, the film is also memorable for those shots of farmers seemingly bonded to the lands. From a distance, a group of farmers are busy doing planting chores. Most of the time we see them with only their upper body half visible. The missing legs say a lot about rural bondage and feudalism in our country.

I'm extremely thankful to Cinema One Originals 2010 for giving moviegoers a rare chance to view bits of Castillo's works at Shang Cineplex's Premiere Theatre. Castillo and Lav Diaz are this year's worthy recipients of a tribute by the annual competition for independent filmmakers.

Original online posting in November 2010
Photo credit: http://www.philstar.com/entertainment/2012/11/28/875371/remembering-celso-ad-castillo-69
 

Superfan (Clodualdo del Mundo Jr, 2009)

Generations of Filipinos have lined up for movies and shows of the Superstar, Nora Aunor. Legions of fans have bought her albums. A devoted few followed her every move. From among these avid, passionate fans, none was as obsessed as Armando ‘Mandy’ Diaz Jr.

Superfan is based on an essay written by Diaz for the book Si Nora Aunor sa mga Noranian: Mga Paggunita at Pagtatapat, edited by Nestor De Guzman (Quezon City: Milflores Publishing Inc., 2005). In the essay titled Himala, Diaz narrated his miraculous devotion to Nora. He started adoring her when he was only 6 years old. The decades-long obsession with the Superstar resulted in a humongous collection of Aunor records and memorabilia. 47 volumes of clippings chronicle the odyssey of Nora from Albay to San Francisco Bay. 10 photo albums capture the highs and lows of the petite actress.

Near the end of the essay, Diaz, who was then only in his late 40s, mentioned that if he dies ahead of Nora, he wants the burial to be postponed until Nora visits his wake. The self-confessed number one fan of Nora died on June 7, 2008 at the age of 48. Nora was then, and still is, residing at the United States of America.

Did Nora visit his wake? The film ingeniously says yes, yes, yes! Three Aunors (a singing child sensation, a popular matinee idol, and a multi-awarded actress) pay respect to their ever loyal fan, Diaz. To paraphrase the title of Nora’s first single under Alpha Records, the Aunors ‘only came to say goodbye.’ With their visit, they rekindle memories of wonderful performances and songs by Nora.

The short film features generous amount of video clips and songs. We see Nora and Tirso Cruz dancing in Guy and Pip. Then, there's the silent showdown between Nora and Vilma Santos in Ikaw Ay Akin. And, who can't forget the scalding bath given by Nora to Phillip Salvador in Bona. The latter film dealt with a superfan who hooked up with a bit player in films. Bona became angry after learning about her idol's plan to migrate to North America.

In Superfan, Mandy Diaz Jr. (Nonie Buencamino) remarks that he will never follow Bona. He will stay loyal to Nora even if she migrates to the United States of America. Nora is, and will always be, in his heart and mind.

The 23-minute film failed to capture the near-mystical devotion of Diaz to Aunor. Only a small part of Diaz’s collection was seen onscreen. The film made up for that weakness by sharing an incident that tells a lot about the relationship of the two. After a big fight with his idol, Diaz threw out some of his collection. He then proudly narrated how Nora went out of her way to make amends. They made peace and he resumed his collection of all Aunor things.

I adored the neat device of having three Aunors visit the wake. That was a nice tribute to Diaz. I thought he really deserved that. After all, Diaz is, in his own words, alone in the ranks of Noranians that truly loved Nora ‘super-to-the-max.’

Original online posting in August 2009

Manny (Leon Gast & Ryan Moore, 2014)

The gorgeous looking documentary Manny contains a generous sampling of stunning knockouts by Manny Pacquiao from his Blow by Blow years to his reign as world champion in eight weight classes. Watching those clips on a high definition digital theater screen is worth the price of an admission ticket.

The knockouts are seen from different angles. Some are in slow motion that capture perfectly the power of the punches by Pacquiao. A solid right mashed Miguel Cotto's face like it was a mere pizza dough with a smattering of bloody red catsup. Then, there is the wicked one-punch knockout of Ricky Hatton. That knockout was the most vicious I've seen in a Pacquiao boxing fight until...the gruesome knockout that stunned the whole country in December 2012.

It is heartbreaking seeing Pacquiao slumped face down inside the ring. The bated breaths of Filipino viewers are captured in still shots. A concerned judge (or is that a ringside broadcaster) seems to be praying over the prostrated Filipino boxer. It will take a handful of minutes before Pacquiao regained consciousness.

Juan Manuel Márquez's stoppage of Pacquiao in that December 2012 match is the second consecutive loss of Pacquiao. He lost a controversial split decision to Timothy Bradley earlier in 2012.

Those defeats give life to this documentary. The filmmakers were at a loss on how to put into context the legendary status of a future hall of famer. They showed Pacquiao's triumph from poverty. Since then, it was all glory and triumph. His unbeaten run of matches in the 2000s is admirable but lacks conflict needed for engrossing storytelling. He lost an election run in 2007 but it is not bad enough to dent his superman invincibility. There must be a kryptonite out there that will bring Pacquiao to normal human levels.

The documentary cites Jinkee Pacquiao's absence from her husband as the kryptonite that led to his defeat at the hands of Bradley. However,Winnie Monsod identified clearly different things vying for Pacquiao's attention. These include his showbiz rackets, fondness for gambling, affairs with other women, and serving constituents from Sarangani province.

Some critics cite his renewed religiosity as the kryptonite that dampened his killer instinct in the ring. But, Pacquiao has always been religious. It is not something he puts on for the world to see. His mother used to herd them together to pray the rosary over empty stomachs. He is always seen wearing the rosary after big fights.

Whatever felled our boxing hero, he stands tall once again. He turned back the clock to give a masterful boxing performance against Brandon Rios. His triumph was a big boost to the survivors of Typhoon Haiyan. If he can rise from severe losses, they can also rise from major setbacks. That ending will suffice for now as we await the next fight of Emmanuel 'Manny' Pacquiao.

Ang Babae Sa Likod Ng Mambabatok (Lauren Sevilla Faustino, Sineng Pambansa 2012)

The Philippine Daily Inquirer has been an ardent supporter of independent filmmakers and excellent local films for years. This year, it stepped up by organizing the first Inquirer Indie Bravo! Film Festival at Greenbelt 3, Makati City. For three days in early December, the festival held free public screenings of documentaries and short films, several of them award-winners.

Among the precious gems shown is Lauren Sevilla Faustino's Ang Babae sa Likod ng Mambabatok (The Woman Behind the Tattoo Artist). The documentary deals with a legendary, nonagenarian tattoo artist named Fang Od. Clients and tourists endure an arduous journey to seek the services of the famed tattoo artist in the highlands of Kalinga.

Seeing her in action makes for an uneasy moment. Fang Od creates batok (tattoo design) with a crude, traditional implement. A firm tapping of the two-inch pointed implement pierces the skin just enough for it to take in the ink. Every sharp thumping sound makes me squirm in my seat. That must be really painful. The amazing thing is once the ink are wiped off from the skin, we see the design in perfect symmetry and alignment. Fang Od's steady arms and eyesight are still in tip-top condition despite her old age.

Fang Od shares that in her tribe, a tattooed woman is highly desirable. (She used to have at least 36 suitors). A woman without a tattoo is not beautiful. We then see various tattoos on the body of Fang Od. There is a reptile design here and a design copied from Chinese porcelain there. Nearly all of the designs are perfectly aligned. However, there are a couple of tattoos that seem amateurish. The story behind those seemingly out-of-place tattoos outshine all of the romantic stories and plotlines conceived by the Star Cinema writing factory so far.

In response to a query on why she remained single all her life, she tells of someone outside her tribe who captured her heart. But, her father objected to her being married to an outsider. The young man then said to her, 'since we cannot be together, I'll tattoo my name on your forearm so you cannot forget me.' He did tattoo his name. Every day since, Fang Od sees his crudely tattooed name on her forearm and remembers him. Awwwww... Heartbreaking kilig stuff.

Thank you to the Philippine Daily Inquirer (Raul C. Pangalangan, Bianca Kasilag, and co.), MyCinema, and the Film Development Council of the Philippines for sharing the engrossing documentary to the public on December 9, 2013. My mother and sister loved this documentary along with feature film Transit and the documentary film Ang Pagbabalik ng Bituin. Those films brought us, the audience, on a trip across the Philippines and beyond (Israel).

The Last Journey of Ninoy (Jun Reyes, 2009)

A co-production of the Ninoy & Cory Aquino Foundation and Unitel Productions, this wonderful docu-drama takes a look at the last nine days of Senator Benigno 'Ninoy' Aquino Jr. It chronicles his last day in Boston, Massachusetts until his fateful return to the Philippines on August 21, 1983. Interspersed with the running account of Ninoy's trip back home is an inspiring tale of the late senator's spiritual journey. How Ninoy overcame adversities and vicissitudes in his latter years is an inspiration and source of hope for downtrodden people.

Ninoy was a jolly, extrovert person who loved crowds. His political star shone early in Tarlac. In 1967, the 35-year old Ninoy ran for and won a seat in the Senate. A fearless and risk-taking politician, Ninoy took on the task of exposing the abuses and crimes of his Upsilon Sigma Phi brother, President Ferdinand Marcos. When Marcos declared martial law in September 1972, Ninoy and most of the opposition figures were sent to jail. Ninoy vowed to helped restore democracy.

A bittersweet recollection dealt with the visit of Cory Aquino and her children to Ninoy at a military camp in Laur, Nueva Ecija. The usually jovial Ninoy was now a sobbing, emaciated man holding on to his pants. He was full of emotions because of his unexpected meeting with family members. He had given up hope of ever seeing them again. Three of his daughters were also crying. He was ashamed because here he was crying his hearts out while Cory did not shed a tear at all. Little did Ninoy knew that Cory was given a tranquilizer shot that numbed her feelings.

A sprinkling of delicious humor spiced up the documentary. If you've ever marveled at the glib of tongue of Kris Aquino, then you'll be impressed more with the sense of humor and public speaking skills of her father, Ninoy. He truly loved giving speeches. He can easily crack funny jokes about his experiences in a military camp or at a hospital. Watch out for his tale of a visit by the 'beautiful one.' He can shift from English to Filipino in a flash.

The docu-drama utilized restored videos, photos, and interviews with the late Senator Ninoy and the late President Cory. Among the most memorable vignettes were those prophetic interview with Ninoy at the Grand Hotel in Taipei and the hunger strike incident. There were some recreated scenes depicting the last days of Ninoy. Several of the latter scenes though looked like commercials for a telephone company.

One of the most valuable lessons from the documentary is that things happen for a reason. The 7 years and 7 months-long incarceration of Ninoy brought him closer to God and his family. The hunger strike incident made him realized that the Filipinos are worth living for. The wonderful three years of family bonding in Boston, Massachusetts rejuvenated his love for his country and fellow Filipinos.

All these things and more prepared Ninoy to undertake the fateful journey back home. Watching Ninoy coolly describe what will happen to him in a few hours sends chills to the bones. His peaceful demeanor at the China Airlines jet is an amazing, unforgettable sight. 

He had really made peace with himself and his Creator. An assassin's bullet interrupted Ninoy's mission of restoring democracy. However, his death sparked three years of protests and rallies that culminated in the Edsa People Power Revolution of 1986. Marcos and his family was exiled to Hawaii. Thus begin, the journey of Cory as President of the Philippines.

*original online posting in 2009

Botong Francisco: A Nation Imagined (Peque Gallaga, 2012)

Imagination becomes imagined nation

From the fertile mind of the National Artist for Visual Arts, Carlos 'Botong' Francisco, bursts forth iconic images of a nation struggling to be free and progressive.

A stupendous three-panel mural highlighted in the short film shows these images in a grand manner befitting the stature of Botong. We see the rajahs of Tondo in all their splendor and majesty. We see Francisco Balagtas tormented seemingly by his fictional characters. 

Then, there is arguably the definitive depiction of Andres Bonifacio, with a bolo in his right hand and a gun in his left hand, leading the impassioned charge against the Spanish forces. And interspersed, along with the famous heroes, are countless Filipinos pushing forth with the fight for freedom. 

The mural, titled Filipino Struggles Throughout History, is a national cultural treasure that can be found in the Bulwagang Katipunan of Manila City Hall. The short film is a convenient and fantastic way of appreciating the highly-detailed mural. You don't have to strain your neck ogling at the piece.

Peque Gallaga, in a brilliant creative decision, brought these brave Filipinos to life in the short film. Foregrounding them in the festive, historical plaza across Quiapo Church, Gallaga alludes to Francisco’s two major visual themes; larger than life historical paintings and personal portraits of his hometown of Angono in Rizal. The Filipinos later thanked the Maestro for teaching them to see and remember their past.

Bestowed the nickname 'Botong,' from a dark-skinned character, the young child never outgrew his fondness for doodling and sketching. He preserved into paintings the dying traditions, fiesta events, and rituals of his townmates. A dancing couple gets morphed into a colorful fiesta scene. A boy wakes up from his siesta and walks out of the painting. The latter painting is notable for being half of a double-sided painting. It was an early work and there must have been a dearth of material to paint on for the young lad. 

Years later, Botong will no longer have to deal with scarce material. He will get to work on gigantic panels and murals. My school memory and recollection of Botong's images was that they were all life-size or larger-than-life paintings. But, when I saw several actual works such as The First Mass at Limasawa and the Introduction of the First Christian Image, they were not gigantic at all. 

I wasn't disappointed, though. The theme and composition of the paintings make them seemingly large. Most of Botong's images seem to sprung out from a CinemaScope film production. The martyrdom of Jose Rizal, the role of the babaylan in health care, Bayanihan, and the Blood Compact, among other images, will always be widescreen big in my mind.

Botong also got involved in the field of filmmaking. He was production designer for the classic film Genghis Khan, directed by Manuel Conde. The short film didn't tackle this fact although Ayala Museum's exhibition has a couple of watercolor works showing Genghis Khan-like characters. There is also a poster sketch for a period film titled Apat na Alas.

Catch the short film and exhibits celebrating the birth centennial of Botong Francisco at the Ayala Museum. They run until March 31, 2013.

The Bladed Hand (Jay Ignacio, Cinemanila 2012)

Rizal Park is packed with people every day. Several groups wield canes for their arnis training. Towering over them is the bronze statue of Lapu Lapu, a master in eskrima. Further across the park is  the monument of Jose Rizal, a fencing aficionado. Although there is no concrete evidence of his having been trained in eskrima, Rizal was portrayed in the film Rizal sa Dapitan as having taught arnis/eskrima to local kids.

With an illustrious history and heroic practitioners behind it, arnis was declared as national martial art and sport of the Philippines in 2010. That event pushed various Filipino Martial Arts (FMA) groups to set aside differences and work together on a common goal: popularization of arnis/eskrima/kali.

The documentary film The Bladed Hand shows the growing clout of respected arnis/kali experts around the world. They help foreign police groups with their self defense training. They choreograph jaw-dropping action sequences for film productions.

Clips from the Jason Bourne film series showcase the efficiency of kali as a form of self defense. If only I’ve been exposed to these types of footage early in my life, then I would have enjoyed my arnis lessons in high school. Back then, I thought arnis is useful only with sticks. Boy, was I wrong. A mere ballpen in the hand of a kali expert is more than a writing implement. It becomes a deadly weapon. That scenario gives new meaning to the saying ‘the pen is mightier than the sword.’

With or without a weapon at hand, a kali expert uses blinding speed and coordinated movements to thwart enemies during close combat. In the documentary, politician Juan Miguel Zubiri shared his secret in winning an arnis competition. He narrated that he practiced learning one movement until it became second nature to him. He repeated it with every new movement. It is akin to the training regimen of Ralph Macchio’s character in the Karate Kid. Zubiri was responsible for the passage of the arnis bill into law.

There had been a crucial change in the world of arnis since 2009. In that year, a documentary titled Eskrimadors by Kerwin Go dealt with in-fighting among the numerous FMA groups. Nowadays, the focus is on standardization of techniques and forms and the creation of a unified system of rules. Those are major challenges to the popularization of arnis as a sport.

The task is doubly hard as other close combat sports such as taekwondo and wrestling, both of which risk losing their Olympic status, try to improve their own popularity. Another issue for arnis is the need for competitors to wear protective gear which hinders some movements, thus taking away the potent, enchanting mix of breathtaking speed and dangerous blows.

Still, arnis as an art is a wonder to behold. With the dazzling sequence of attacking and parrying movements and side-steps, it is akin to a dance. It is tinikling, self-defense, komedya, and cha-cha rolled into one. Now, that is what I call a beautiful, lethal concoction of mixed arts.

The Bladed Hand, just like its subject Filipino Martial Arts, is a work in progress. At the time of its screening at Cinemanila 2012, director Jay Ignacio came across more footages of interest. But, as it is, the work screened at the Market Market cinema is striking enough to lure more people to the world of arnis. So, who wants to take up arnis/eskrima and join the company of Matt Damon, Professor Felipe Jocano, Dan Inosanto, and the legendary Bruce Lee?

Harana (Benito Bautista, 2012)

Ang dalagang Pilipina, parang tala sa umaga

Kung tanawin ay nakaliligaya

May ningning na tangi at dakilang ganda

- Jose Corazon de Jesus

Documentary films are getting noticed here in the Philippines and the rest of the world. The absorbing Senna, about the three-time Formula One champion Ayrton Senna, was a box-office hit in the United Kingdom. It was shown locally during Cine Europa Film Festival 2012. Give Up Tomorrow created quite a loud buzz at this year's Cinemalaya Film Festival that it got a theatrical run in October 2012.

Benito Bautista's Harana also made an impression during the Cinemalaya festival. Audiences, primed up by exposure to Youtube videos and concert/music films such as This Is It and Justin Bieber: Never Say Never, gravitated towards this film because it is stuffed with wonderful harana songs such as Dalagang Pilipina, Iniibig Kita, and Aking Bituin (O Ilaw). But, those songs are only as good as the ones singing them.  

The documentary takes a look at balikbayan Florante Aguilar's search for the best of these haranistas. Aguilar, a classical guitarist oozing with musical chops just like his tukayos Freddie Aguilar and Florante, finds these masters of the lost art of serenade out in the field, along the river, and on the streets. 

Every musical performance by the Harana Kings, composed of Aguilar, tricycle driver Felipe Alonzo, farmer Celestino Aniel, and fisherman Romeo Bergunio, is pure delight. There's a sincere feel to their direct, romantic declarations of love. You'll believe every word emanating from their hearts. Bereft of money to come in flashy cars or to buy expensive gifts, the three proletarian vocalists have only love to offer. They express this love with the help of a sturdy guitar.

If music be the food of love, play on 

- William Shakespeare

There's a memorable segment in this lovely documentary. A young man named Bryan is heads over heels over a schoolmate. The girl seems to be in a relationship but he is adamant to profess his love. He seeks the help of a few surviving practitioners of harana, an old-school courtship ritual. The serenade pushes through, and there's a fantastic medium shot of a giddy Bryan. With soothing romantic lyrics in the air, his beaming face is full of bliss as he eyes the girl of his dreams. And the reaction of the girl? Let's just say that she is not used to getting this profuse attention showered on her. But, one thing's for certain, she won't forget this harana night and the Rapunzel feeling of being desired. Ang haba-haba ng buhok niya. Parang Rapunzel.

Our elders may be onto something with harana. They know the power of harana songs to tame any lady. With glorious voices emanating from outside the house, no woman can resist taking a peek by the window.

Buksan ang bintana

at ako'y dungawin
Nang mapagtanto mo
ang tunay kong pagdaing

After viewing this documentary, I visited the web site of Aguilar. I've learned valuable things about a proper harana song. Not every local love song out there is a harana song. There's a certain beat and structure of a harana song. The lyrics should also be reflective of the act of serenading. I'm glad that at least three previously unreleased harana songs were given valuable screen time in the doc. Even better, these songs were eventually recorded by the Harana Kings. Iniibig Kita has the potential to become a hit in the hands of a popular singer. 

The documentary Harana has a strong middle portion. However, the book ends are not that good. The start showed various places but did not linger enough to show their relevance. I wasn't thrilled with the American Idol-style of showing horrendous performances. The time given to these performers should have been used in educating viewers about the differences of a harana song from a kundiman song. The end was not that elating, either. The stagy parting among the vocalists was not dramatic enough. The ending sort of rambled on and on. A concert scene or a recording session scene could have been perfect ending.

In the end, the emotional performances of the Harana Kings will remain with you. If you can't get enough of them, then grab a copy of the soundtrack, which is sadly the last album together of Alonzo, Bergunio, and  Celestino Aniel. The latter died in September 2012.

Give Up Tomorrow (Michael Collins, 2011)

For many of us who've closely monitored the Chiong sisters' rape-slay case in the 1990s, this documentary will shock and infuriate you. In just a matter of 95 minutes, the total running time of the doc, I've changed my stand that Francisco Juan Paco Larrañaga was guilty. All those years, I was led to believe that he participated in the murders of Marijoy and Jacqueline Chiong. I was wrong. Maybe you'll get to the same conclusion that Paco is innocent after viewing the must-see documentary by Michael Collins and Marty Syjuco.

Media played a big part in brainwashing my mind. It kept repeating lies such as Paco being an admirer of one of the sisters, and that he was one of those who threw a corpse down a cliff in Cebu in July 1997. The articles were accompanied with nonflattering pictures of the teenager and his 6 other co-accused. The documentary showed a newspaper clipping with a photo of Paco, which eerily recalls a close-up shot of a doomed chubby soldier in the film Full Metal Jacket. Paco was heavily demonized in words and pictures by the press back then.

It had been 16 years since he was arrested and incarcerated, but Paco remains adamant of his innocence. There are dozens of witnesses willing to testify that he was in Manila on the day of the abduction. Constant acknowledgement of the truth keeps the young man in good spirits. He will not give up unlike the aforementioned young soldier who blasted his brains out.

“If you wanna give up, give up tomorrow. Today, do what you can to survive.” 

Paco's survival mantra is fantastic advice to anyone facing adversities. But then, aren't most of the impoverished Filipinos already practicing that tactic of living one day at a time? 

Another important lesson from the documentary is to take with a grain of salt every news stories and sensational headlines. With the coming national elections next year, we need to be more critical of stories coming out from news media groups and the grapevine.

Recuerdo of Two Sundays and Two Roads that Lead to the Sea (Romy Vitug, Emmanuel Torres, & Bibsy Carballo, 1969)

Paraphrasing Forrest Gump, a Cinemalaya festival pass is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.

There were lots of good treats at the recent fest. After all, it is already the eighth edition of the film competition. So, quality is quite high and cineastes had a hard time selecting a standout from a bountiful harvest of good, new films. But, sadly, there exists a Cinemalaya finalist that is so badly written that it stands out for its mediocrity. Instead of inspiring viewers, the film manages to make the audience squirm due to its heavy-handed handling of President Manuel Quezon’s legacy. If the best film I’ve seen starred Ronnie Lazaro (Ang Mga Kidnaper ni Ronnie Lazaro), then the worst film also featured Ronnie Lazaro (Ang Katiwala). Rare is an awful film that manages to get a foothold in the Cinemalaya competition.

Rarer is this cinematic gem that Nick Deocampo rightly described as a classic. Recuerdo of Two Sundays and Two Roads that Lead to the Sea is the film find of the last two years. Forgotten for more than four decades, the film was rediscovered in New York City. If you’ve seen Kamera Obskura, then you’ll recall the joy of film archivists who stumbled over a rare Filipino silent film. That incandescent joy is the same thing I saw in the beaming face of Deocampo. He is obviously happy to share the film to an audience who haven’t had a clue on what the film is.

Producer and editor Bibsy Carballo gave us a few tidbits on the genesis of the documentary film. Cinematographer Romy Vitug scraped up short ends of films for a side project. He spent his Sundays shooting film footages in a Navotas cemetery. Poet Emmanuel Torres came in later to write the narration, which was recorded by Ray Pedroche.

The visual virtuosity of Vitug is in full force in this black & white documentary about four funerals and a feasting. There’s an unforgettable image of moving shadows cast by jeepneys on a wall. The elegiac shadows seem to depict burning, floating coffins at sea. Then, there’s the image of crushing waves knocking on the edges of the cemetery. The sumptuous, seductive cinematography is complemented by Torres’ succinct observations.

Another poetic image is that of a poor father cuddling the coffin of his child on the way to the cemetery. Unlike Pol of Sta. Niña he is determined to decently bury the kid. The spare funeral is in stark contrast with the lavish funerals captured on the documentary. The rich families are able to hire a band and feed countless people. From birth to death, food figures prominently in these significant events.

A Filipino funeral rite depicted in the film is still being done today. Kids are being passed over the coffin to keep them from being haunted by the dead.

The documentary is one of two short films that still haunt me with great images about mortality and mourning. The other is Richard Legaspi’s moving short film Manenaya. The latter is a nice companion piece to Lav Diaz's Melancholia. Both deal with the massive cross borne by kin of desaparecidos.

The Road to Melancholia: Sagada Diaries (Emman de la Cruz | 1st Reinvigorating Documentary Filmmaking Workshop)

Emmanuel de la Cruz / Angeli Bayani

An example of the refreshing documentaries from the 2010 workshop, this docu provides a penetrating glimpse into the making of Lav Diaz’s film Melancholia. Cool as the Amihan wind, the maverick filmmaker is seen shooting guerrilla style with a sparse crew in the mountains of Sagada. During a scene that has taken forever to complete, he calms down the actors by saying “Relax lang.”

Does he ever get angry? Rarely.

There was one time when he encountered a child actor who couldn't follow his instruction. Tasked to make a sad face, the boy dilly-dallied because he says he is basically a happy child. An irate Lav halted the shooting and packed up.

Emmanuel de la Cruz does a wonderful job of providing tidbits and insights about Maguindanao-born colleague, Lav Diaz. In just over a half hour, I’d learned a lot about his background and source of ideas. Lavrente Diaz, whose first name is of Russian origin, grew up in a home filled with books by Russian authors. The Dostoyevskian characters he relished in his youth will soon appear in various forms in most of his films.

The Diaz family was a victim of the vicious war in Maguindanao and North Cotabato. A series of hamlettings forced family members to vacate their home and become refugees. The idea of being displaced is a major theme in his films. A crime from the past or pursuit of artistic endeavor or natural/political disasters will cause main characters to leave their homes or towns. The displaced and dispossessed characters then grapple with deep melancholia, chilly loneliness, and the search for redemption.

Rebels on the run

The film Melancholia deals with a trio of dispossessed characters, Alberta, Rina, and Julian. Instead of missing valuable things, they are ruing the disappearance of their loved ones. The film is still the best I’ve seen about desaparecidos or enforced disappearances. Film critic Noli delivers a wonderful review of the film here.

I remember a Melancholia scene wherein an Ifugao elder is clearly heard complaining about being filmed. There is nothing degrading in the shot having been merely a market crowd scene. But, the thought I had then was the tribesman must have been wishing for some payment. Sure enough, as seen in the documentary, a female local government employee is running after the filmmakers. She is asking for the group’s permit to shoot. A female member from Diaz’s group does the damage control. Meanwhile, Lav is nowhere in sight. He is probably holed up in a distant place and coolly relaxing away from it all.