Outright Confused

Timeless

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Manila is a film directed by Adolfo Alix Jr. and Raya Martin. This is actually a film tribute to Ishmael Bernal’s Manila by Night (City After Dark) and Lino Brocka’s Jaguar. I knew this was coming since most of our independent directors have their absolute and all-out praises for these two prominent filmmakers at a time when our film industry is soaring high. Last year, I had the chance to read interviews of Lino Brocka. They were very insightful and perhaps presented opportunities for curious people like me in having a glimpse of his intellect and predilections towards creating films. Based on that interview alone, Brocka might be displeased with this film.

Lino Brocka is known to be a perfectionist. If he does not like what he has made out of his film, he will make the first move to caution his comrades in watching it. In comparison to today’s generation, even if the film is downright sickening, most of them still have the audacity to promote their self importance. This is not about Alix and Martin as this is a direct admonition towards the broad-spectrum of filmmakers. Of course all filmmakers have their own principles. But I could not feel the inspiration that could have been passed over by Brocka or even Bernal towards our diversely influenced artists.

These filmmakers are really confused with their craft. I could now feel that they are more in tuned with creating a new era which they could call their own. And all of them are struggling to be the first. You will notice that with most of their outputs, something lies beyond which is their personal thirst for a larger achievement. Their revolution is of course spineless since they still carry on the mark of the past. Manila is a fair illustration of what they have in mind. If we will think outside of the box or the seemingly bigger idea of what films are, it is not just about being recognized as a post-modern form of artwork. The film is a direct implication of a budding era of films. I think it does not matter for Alix and Martin if the film fails or succeeds. What matters to them right now is if this could lead to their names being embellished in Philippine film history as the birth of the radical age.

Going back to the film Manila analyzed on a normal plane, I could call it the equivalent of Pop in terms of film. It has parody elements all throughout, they could never deny it. Upon seeing the ‘Night’ segment of the film which is directed by Raya Martin, I could not distinguish the artistic difference with the ‘Day’ segment directed by Adolfo Alix Jr. I don’t know who’s copying who nor is it intended that the film must be cohesive even on the artistic voice of the director. Despite the superiority the film has relayed in terms of cinematography, lighting, sound design and all those technical stuff, it has muddled merits that they covet to acquire. It is more of an excuse than a tribute.

Piolo Pascual’s endeavor in making this film might dissipate into thin air. At least there’s the consolation of being part of Cannes Film Festival this year – he’s glad having the laurel leaf in his film portfolio. His acting in both roles as the dirty junkie William and as the bodyguard Philip is not something that you’ll flip over with delight (maybe that was the point). I could hear his conscience saying, “Oh, this is great. I should play darker roles to showcase my bloody abilities as a great actor.” He looks conscious in most of his scenes trying to look subtle as much as possible, it led to superficiality. He should look back to his acting in the film Chopsuey for better acting tips from himself.

Manila has picked-up some pieces not necessarily to enhance the greatness of Brocka and Bernal but for the sake of their own greatness. The point of the story is not only to show the interrelating characters but also has convoluted intentions. If these filmmakers have the primal idea of what Brocka and Bernal’s films are all about, then they should throw away all hindsight. Films are not made only for the marginal few - a film clubby thing. I assume films will always be for everyone no matter how radical the idea is.


Charlie Koon's Rating:

Reel Freedom

Trio Mio

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And so the night came when all the free peoples of our beautiful home-metropolis detached themselves from the substrate of their functional particularities in order to hark to another form of substantiated simulacrum which the philistines refer to as ‘indie culture’. There they were, the milk-lipped movie enthusiasts pseudo-mingling with the culturati of the blogosphere, all in their cat-eyed, long-haired, vitriolic glory. The air was rife with the colors of freedom, and so it should, as Raya Martin’s much anticipated and grant-bestowed Independencia puts the waiting crowd in a rare thirst, that which can only be quenched by a decent independent movie or as a matter of fact, a free movie, the latter being immune to any scruples of public decency and choosiness.

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But as it turns out the audience did make a choice. Perhaps palled by Hollywood’s asphyxiating tinsel truck or the flesh parade of the quotidian Filipino indie film, they are starting to realize that maybe it’s time the directors stop fucking up and start making real movies. Whether Martin is the bearer of good things to come has yet to be seen but at least the good tidings are at hand. His film scintillates in a stylistic sense. The studio scenes are both innocuously attractive and deliberately nostalgic, trying to evoke no doubt the irony of the Philippine-American war set in an extinct aesthetic of a made-up American movie reminiscent of Hollywood’s early, in-studio period. Succinctly, the whole movie feels like a perambulating diorama. The claustrophobic forest with its synthetic weather and painted backdrop introduces Martin to an international audience as well as to his own countrymen as a technically proficient twenty-something colt with a flare for sepia tones and Lutgardo Labad’s classical music. Certainly the soundtrack is eerily gorgeous and the scenes maintaining a static loveliness thanks to the unmoving camera (again part of the aesthetic irony) but the film in general lacked the sensual violence that could catapult Martin’s work into the realm of masterpiece.

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But the movie itself is not a failure; it is in fact direct evidence of Martin’s increasing maturity. He opted for a more conventional plot, quite peculiar since the movie was intended for Canne’s Un Certain Regard which tends to be more experimental. The scenes were less sprawling, less Antonionian, and certainly followed a clear and accessible trajectory. The subject matter also lacks the self-indulgence of a lot of Filipino indie films. The merits are still rather closeted but ineluctably undeniable. It has always been the opinion of this blog that the public has been yearning for stories to be told. Never mind art, never mind the idiotic prettiness that flowers in the breasts of dead rats and subtle angles. The days of the art films are over, should be over. If a director wants to find true art, he should look for it through the eyes of his tangible audience, not in the limpid pools of his own abstractions.

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And such palpable forces Martin’s characters find themselves in. Confronted by the encroaching realities of war, a mother and her son are forced by their own volition to live in the forest, left with their human devices in an inhuman wilderness. They are typical Filipinos, moved by a typical hunger and a typical lust. It was intriguing to watch Sid Lucero, a young and obedient naïf, masturbating on the riverside, not a staple scene for most period films. The acting was itself like that of a 19^th century play with de Rossi shining as the most natural despite the classical dialogue. Characterization in general is presented in two layers, the one seen by the outside world and the other intrinsic landscape conveyed through dreams and taciturn stares. Though the ending required a little prestidigitation, overall the characters are moved by the hackneyed and powerful hand of nature, to which they respond as the plot does, with a very Filipino sense of dignity and equanimity. Women are raped, seniors expire, children, like sylvestrian ghouls, come and go like the blinding dusk-edge, but the banana leaves must still be laid, the twig floor swept with the good ol’ broom. It is always a difficulty to live despite of your freedom. Before sidling towards the movie house I noticed Anita Linda entering the restroom, it was probably a sign telling me that though the movie I was going to watch free of charge, some things cost more than we expect.

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Written by: Alex Milla (Guest Critic)

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Notes:

Independencia is shown in the recently concluded 14th French Film Festival held in Shangri-La Plaza, Mandaluyong during the Philippine Independence Day (June 12).

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Independencia also competed in the Un Certain Regard section of the recently concluded The 62nd annual Cannes Film Festival held from May 13 to May 24, 2009.