Others that got this rare nod were Noon at Ngayon and Crying Ladies in 2003; Santa Santita and Panaghoy sa Suba in 2004; La Visa Loca, Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros, Bigtime and Mulawin in 2005.
Kubrador, directed by Jeffrey Jeturian and starring Gina Pareño, has been showing for the past days in theaters, and anyone of betting age should see it. If one has read all the blurbs, the sundry reviews, the critics’ unabashed hosannas, all that’s left to do really is take the not so giant step into the moviehouse and watch for 98 minutes that unfold on the big screen three days in the life of Amy, jueteng kubrador. At the very least, the film is sharp social commentary, echoing Brocka and Bernal, two of our national artists for film.
Then again it is more than that. We aren’t really sure if the term is cinema verite or film noir (let’s leave that to the certified critics) but the camera generously feasts on the squalor of the slums where Pareño as Amy does her rounds in a maze of small coincidences and number combinations replete with zen interpretations, something very Asian and, in this case, very pustahan tayo Filipino.
Much has been said about the effortless storytelling that never stoops to preachiness, the actors who are a natural ensemble cast, the documentary-like matter of fact exposition that does not lose the thread of narrative, on the contrary even manages a few jabs in inventiveness as in the recurring presence of the ghost of Amy’s son, as if to suggest that though jueteng may be a dead end, in the hereafter the dead never really write finis or the end, rather find a way through a power stronger than anyone can imagine to insinuate themselves into the present story.
Which by and large is our story, anak ng jueteng, the game of numbers that led to the downfall of a president and continues to cast its irreverent shadow on the denizens of bookies, revisadors, cabos, the whole hog from the rank and file to the jueteng lords stretched out on a spit roasting in the various circles of hell, again our hell where the game is the only possible ticket out.
And so nowhere is the irony richer than in this latest Jeturian flick, that ranks up there with his earlier work Pila Balde that launched the career of Ana Capri as well a thousand ships of the well worn imagination. It may be true that Brocka et al have done this before and better, but that is beside the point: Kubrador is originally a digital film later blown up into the regular 35 mm., something the old masters had never done and so lends this film a unique, distinct quality not only technical-wise, but also in terms of resolution and composition or whatever the industry nerds call it.
In an interview Jeturian relates how he watched Maynila sa Kuko ng Liwanag in a Manila moviehouse while he was enrolled in San Beda, and tells how that silent scream of Bembol Roco as Julio Madiaga in the final fadeout remains forever etched in his mind. In a way, Kubrador is one long silent scream of the plight of the poor who have to turn to jueteng and yet lose none of their humanity, and so becomes an indirect tribute to Brocka and other ghosts who set the standard in our past cinema.
That we are nearing the -ber months with only one A so far could suggest this year has slim pickings. Last year’s relative bumper crop was spurred by the inclusion of a couple of entries from the first Cinemalaya festival; things could just as quickly turn around in 2006 if the films in the latest Cinemalaya submit for review, as there are at least a couple that would merit the full tax rebate.
It has always been a tricky business grading films translating into tax exemptions, as neither is the CEB tax assessors nor full-fledged critics, but at best a collective sounding board to help guide the industry and moviegoing audience on the setting of possible parameters and direction of the cinema of our times, verite, noir, or bete noire.
One should also not lose sight of the fact that film grades are done in their undeniable context. Why for example did Magnifico, the first rated by the board in 2003, get only a B and Mulawin, a sleeper in more ways than one in the last Metro film fest, get an A?
Magnifico was like the guinea pig that became the celebrated lechon, the board’s way of trying out and adjusting their lenses of critical and other faculties to get a clearer picture. Mulawin provided some flighty thrills but was by and large carried over by unspoken tradition that at least one December film fest entry would get an A. But neither As nor Bs would make them better or lesser films, because that is ultimately for the private viewer to decide in his or her rightful, private context.