MANILA, Philippines - When Cinema One Originals 2013 Festival opened the week-long indie event at Glorietta, Trinoma and Robinsons Galleria theaters with a screening of the restored copy of National Artist Eddie Romero’s epic 1976 classic film Ganito Kami Noon Paano Kayo Ngayon, the people behind the festival seemed to be saying that here is a great film that meets certain criteria.
Ganito stands the test of time. It uses the different cinematic elements creatively and effectively. The actors give life to flesh-and-blood characters. The theme or themes are universal. And most of all, the movie tosses around ideas that the viewers can think about.
In Ganito Kami Noon, Romero who is both the director and co-scriptwriter (with Roy Iglesias) goes back to a colorful time in our history — the last days of Spanish colonial rule and the early conquest by the Americans — and asks the age-old question of who and what we are as a nation, what our national identity is.
The central character confronts this question every step of the way and each time, he gets an elusive answer. We may not be bothered by the issue of national identity now, except when problems of regionalism and post-colonial values and the issues of running the government and ordinary folk’s weaknesses come up. Then as now, the matter is a puzzlement.
The movie focuses on a pure-hearted country bumpkin Kulas a.k.a. Nicolas Ocampo, played with disarming simplicity and sincerity by a very young Christopher de Leon, who is naturally naïve but sensible and pragmatic. Throughout the film, Kulas comes upon people and situations that make him wonder about his being a Filipino. In the course of the movie, his encounters with several other characters are worthy of a serious novel, much like Voltaire’s Candide, and Romero makes his picaresque tale effective, dramatic and often funny.
Kulas meets a wily, sexually active womanizer but benevolent Spanish friar Padre Corcuera (E.A. Rocha) who becomes his padrino and eventually passes on to him great wealth. A review of Philippine history: Why are there a few Filipino families blessed with so much power and wealth, and real-estate properties visible “as far as the eye can see? Patronage, as suggested in the movie, but also maybe crime? “Behind every great fortune is a great crime.â€
The Spaniard asks Kulas to bring to Manila his illegitimate son called Bindoy (Dranreb), and in his travels, Kulas meets, loses, then meets again the woman of his dreams Diding (Gloria Diaz lovely then as now).
Now, Diding isn’t your typical blushing maiden of yore — certainly not Maria Clara, for she is “showbiz na showbiz,†lusting after stardom. This is what makes the dramatis personae interesting. The characters are real and full of surprises. Diding is referred to by Kulas’ ward Bindoy as “kiri,†or “makiri†(flirtatious on a simple level and a loose woman on a real level, in those days anyway). Today’s generation would add: She’s “user-friendly.â€
Another character, Kulas’ ilustrado lawyer Don Tibor (Eddie Garcia) may be likened to today’s politician — rich and flexible, and though loyal to Kulas, eyes Diding with desire. There is a Chinoy family represented by a merchant (Tsing Tong Tsai) who is hardworking, low-key and reliable. There is a rebel (Johnny Vicar) who is high-strung, intransigent and emotional — human frailties that are a liability during the Revolution.
These characters form a rich tapestry of Philippine life. One may point out anachronisms in period details but in spite of them, the movie is generally able to capture the mood and nostalgic atmosphere of an era long gone.
It throbs with life largely due to the music score by Lutgardo Labad whose original and adapted work is realized from scant instrumental resources. Maybe Wikipedia erroneously refers to the movie as a “Filipino romantic musical drama†because the Wiki contributor saw just bits of the movie — in particular its early third which saw the enamored Kulas imagining himself singing a duet with the unpolished talent that’s Diding.
Hemisphere, the company that produced the movie, was not a major studio, thus it could qualify as an indie film. The relatively low budget is a give-away, as may be gleaned from the production design. One thing clear is that in spite of its limited production budget and location requirements, Romero’s grand period piece and costume drama on the adventures and misadventures of Everyman (Every Filipino) is effective now as then.
Thanks to ABS-CBN Archives and Central Digital Lab for the restoration of the film which had faded badly, Ganito Kami Noon may again be appreciated in all its glory by the new generation.
Another classic, arguably the most acclaimed Filipino film in the world, had a grand screening at the Cinema One Originals — Lino Brocka’s 1975 melodrama Maynila Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag about another Every Filipino from the province who goes to the big city in search of his missing ladylove. While following the naïve young man’s harsh experiences in the city, which includes a stint as a male prostitute, Brocka unfolds a heartbreaking love story from Doy del Mundo’s screenplay adaptation of Edgardo Reyes’ serialized novel.
Nearly 40 years old, Maynila has not lost all its power and significance as riveting social drama and realist film masterpiece, and the issues it takes up including poverty, labor exploitation, white slavery and prostitution, continue to fester in our society today. Everything about the movie is raw, most notably Max Jocson’s haunting, bittersweet score, and it all adds to its impact as in the early ‘70s.
Maynila was independently produced — by Mike de Leon, another film master whose family owned the old LVN studio — with an ensemble cast led by Bembol Roco and Hilda Koronel. Their co-stars come mostly from the theater, in particular the still active and dynamic group PETA. Mike de Leon himself is the cinematographer; his collaboration with Brocka remains a visually striking work, and the restoration efforts by local and Hollywood talent are most laudable.
Still, a movie need not be a classic — or as epic and grand as Ganito Kami Noon and Maynila Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag for it to be adjudged good and worthy. A filmmaker need not concern himself with just the big theme, the big picture and big emotions. Several indie films for the past decade or so have been more modest with their ambitions, their concerns and accomplishments, but they could hold a candle to the classics. Even movies made purely for their entertainment value, like Star Cinema’s No Other Woman and the very recent She’s The One, are worthy of every moviegoer’s time and money.
But it’s the serious films that last.
Another movie that premiered during the week-long Cinema One Originals 2013 Festival is what they would call an instant classic. It is a foreign indie film that’s produced in Singapore by debuting London-based Chinese filmmaker Anthony Chen who told The Philippine STAR he did his movie in something like three weeks. The film, Ilo Ilo (spelled thus), is Singapore’s entry to the American Academy Awards, which isn’t to say it has been nominated (though it should be a worthy nominee, along with the Philippine entry Transit).
Ilo Ilo shows the life of a Singaporean family — father, mother and 10-year-old boy — and how their life is affected by the quiet, uncomplaining presence of a Filipino maid and yaya called Terry, played by local indie star Angeli Bayani. Terry is at first spurned and challenged by her young ward Jiale (the 29-year-old director’s childhood alter ego). Her relationship with the boy and his parents is told matter-of-fact, with no high or low drama, and no high jinks. Only with periodic mild humor and tension arising from cultural and class differences.
The family is too serious and problem-challenged to indulge in horseplay. The father loses his job as a salesman and is getting more dependent on the lotto. He is also a closet smokier, while the mother, a no-nonsense, hard-working office woman, is slowly being the boy’s hostile attitude toward his yaya thaws.
Compared to other family dramas and exposés about the plight of the OFWs, Ilo Ilo looks like light fare, because the situations avoid extreme emotions. It simply shows how a family slowly in this wealthy Asian state descends to poverty, from the point of view of the maid. The plot may appear undramatic and simple, but the director’s tiny, subtle observations on human behavior and the characters workaday life build up to a picture that is real, sometimes tense and worrisome, gently humorous, and also moving.
To wit, the maid being interrogated at the supermarket after security personnel finds an item in her bag to be unpaid (stolen?). There are casual moments when Terry gives bath to the boy. A big family party in a cramped apartment drives the maid to eat alone when all seats have been taken, but the boy joins her at the table, in an unarticulated gesture of solidarity. The father bungles a sales pitch. The mother confronts the maid for the cigarette butts and the smell of smoke which have been bugging her, only to find it is her husband who is addicted to cigarette.
The title comes from the province of Iloilo, where the Filipino maid comes from. Angeli is shown calling up Ilongga relatives, frustrated that she cannot send them more financial support. If there is anything in common between the maid and the family she is serving, it is their dwindling luck and financial resources. Terry even has to work at a salon on her off-days to supplement the money that she will send to her hometown. Iloilo surely is in the heart, her heart. In the end, we see the inevitable, and it’s a poignant one.
In his brief talk before the Cinema One audience Wednesday, Chen said that Singapore turns out only 10 films a year and most of them are comedies, reason why he was surprised that Ilo Ilo became a big box-office hit in Singapore. Chen expressed delight that his film was also lauded in Cannes last summer and drew large crowds. But the reasons are obvious. The story and situations are easy to relate to. The cast is uniformly good, from Bayani to the Singaporean cast: Koh Jia Ler, Yeo Yann Yann and Tian Wen Chan. And director Chen is a keen, sensitive artist who finds the hummingly beautiful in the humdrum, and the extraordinary in the ordinary.