Fade to black
October 24, 2005 | 12:00am
Finally we were able to catch Topel Lee’s Dilim at the recent CineManila film festival, after a couple of aborted scheduled screenings in different venues and circumstances. As it happens, the 80 plus minute digital brings out the best and worst in the current local independent cinema (mise-en-) scene.
Coming from a Cainta-based family of artists and bankers, Lee wastes no time in wearing his influences on his considerable sleeve, his tribute to the acknowledged masters threatening to surpass them just the same. The main protagonist Eman aka Dilim, is a vigilante that is straight out of a weird hybrid of Marvel, Heavy Metal, and Mars Ravelo. That the film is done in a kind of duotone black and white only heightens the atmosphere and ups the ante, as it were, and like Sky Captain appears like a period piece.
The issue of the vigilante though is hardly dated in the Philippine context, and here Lee shows that he has his fundamentals down pat when he depicts Dilim as an outsider in already marginal strata of society, that is, the delicate balance between cops and goons.
Rica Peralejo, as the cop’s daughter who is saved by Dilim from being molested by well-connected drug dealing post-juveniles, adds a touch of bona fide showbiz to an otherwise pure indie affair. And the peripatetic character actor Tado has a cameo in a martial arts showdown with the sullen hero, with a touch of humor too for good measure to prove that reliable filmmaking is not necessarily grim and determined.
Apity though that the feature we caught at Robinson’s was abbreviated too in the homestretch, with the characters suddenly becoming shape-shifters and the disc itself freezing in assorted pixel form even without X-rated scenes going on, similar to what happens to bad pirated DVD copies of commercial-run movies. Indeed all that was missing was a figure in sarong or malong walking across the screen to block our view.
We never knew or found out how Dilim ended, and though it really was harang, the handful of spectators in the late night screening could only laugh in befuddlement, probably surmising that this is what we get for half a price of a regular ticket.
For the most part, there have been raves all around for the digital Viva film Ilusyon, by a tandem of young directors Ellen Ramos and Paolo Villaluna. Based on a story by Jon Red, the movie is about a house painter who soon follows in the footsteps of his painter father, but not without an offbeat romance angle thrown in, courtesy of the beautifully nude (in revealing rushes) JC Parker. Yul Servo does justice to his role as the painter wannabe who painfully realizes what true art entails, while Ronnie Lazaro as the artist pere fulfills his duty as an old yet always creative hand in the actors craft. Bella Flores is hilarious too and adds a sardonic light to the proceedings. Bituin Escalante is a shining star and Tetchie Agbayani has to be seen to be believed. The guy who played the postman friend of the real painter was also a comic counterpoint.
The film is overall rather impeccable down to its last song on the period soundtrack, and makes no bones about the essential difference between appearance and reality, how both may be opposite sides of the same coin.
The reborn radical gay may find delight in Masahista, which is not officially part of CineManila but on a better day should be.
The Brillante Mendoza film is a feast of visual storytelling via juxtaposition, from massage parlor to funeral parlor and back, from the sordid interiors to the jolting outdoor sunlight that renders the gracefully aging actress Jaclyn Jose in a rather surreal mode, perhaps due in no small part to the transposition to 35 mm from the original digital.
It’s only later we learn that Mendoza was the production designer for a couple of Jaclyn Jose movies almost 20 years ago shortly after the first Edsa revolt, Private Show and Takaw Tukso, films we were made instant fans of not only due to the actress’ admirable torso but for the worthwhile storytelling that was a worthy distraction during the tumultuous post-revolutionary milieu.
Several homosexual scenes may offend the unprotected sensibilities of the more conservative sector of the audience, and the narrative seems to take its sweet time such that at least one editor said that a good way to view it would be to consider it as a documentary in real time. And one comedian admitted that Masahista did hit a nerve, but alas, the wrong nerve.
Mendoza may be saying something about the body, how it could be merely playing the sap for the soul. We cannot help too but remember the late great Brocka, and how he would have handled similar material. Allan Paule is as usual excellent here as the gay client of the masseur played by Coco Martin, years after Brocka cast Paule in the title role of Macho Dancer.
What can we say but that the truth is never pretty, not even the fleeting glimpse of Katherine Luna, the babae sa breakwater, as the loudmouthed girlfriend of Martin.
Mendoza must be doing something right, after all Masahista was named co-winner in the Locarno, Switzerland filmfest, and was official entry in several other film festivals abroad with more to come. Some movies are better left un-graded on nights when the poor cannot afford a decent meal, much less the price of a ticket at a moviehouse. It’s only money, the sap of the body, the sap of the soul.
Oops. Photo credit of Philjazz ensemble in a past column goes to Collis Davis. Caption got the players right, but text identified Dave Harder as Ron Harder, Ron being Prof. Nethercutt’s first name.
Coming from a Cainta-based family of artists and bankers, Lee wastes no time in wearing his influences on his considerable sleeve, his tribute to the acknowledged masters threatening to surpass them just the same. The main protagonist Eman aka Dilim, is a vigilante that is straight out of a weird hybrid of Marvel, Heavy Metal, and Mars Ravelo. That the film is done in a kind of duotone black and white only heightens the atmosphere and ups the ante, as it were, and like Sky Captain appears like a period piece.
The issue of the vigilante though is hardly dated in the Philippine context, and here Lee shows that he has his fundamentals down pat when he depicts Dilim as an outsider in already marginal strata of society, that is, the delicate balance between cops and goons.
Rica Peralejo, as the cop’s daughter who is saved by Dilim from being molested by well-connected drug dealing post-juveniles, adds a touch of bona fide showbiz to an otherwise pure indie affair. And the peripatetic character actor Tado has a cameo in a martial arts showdown with the sullen hero, with a touch of humor too for good measure to prove that reliable filmmaking is not necessarily grim and determined.
Apity though that the feature we caught at Robinson’s was abbreviated too in the homestretch, with the characters suddenly becoming shape-shifters and the disc itself freezing in assorted pixel form even without X-rated scenes going on, similar to what happens to bad pirated DVD copies of commercial-run movies. Indeed all that was missing was a figure in sarong or malong walking across the screen to block our view.
We never knew or found out how Dilim ended, and though it really was harang, the handful of spectators in the late night screening could only laugh in befuddlement, probably surmising that this is what we get for half a price of a regular ticket.
For the most part, there have been raves all around for the digital Viva film Ilusyon, by a tandem of young directors Ellen Ramos and Paolo Villaluna. Based on a story by Jon Red, the movie is about a house painter who soon follows in the footsteps of his painter father, but not without an offbeat romance angle thrown in, courtesy of the beautifully nude (in revealing rushes) JC Parker. Yul Servo does justice to his role as the painter wannabe who painfully realizes what true art entails, while Ronnie Lazaro as the artist pere fulfills his duty as an old yet always creative hand in the actors craft. Bella Flores is hilarious too and adds a sardonic light to the proceedings. Bituin Escalante is a shining star and Tetchie Agbayani has to be seen to be believed. The guy who played the postman friend of the real painter was also a comic counterpoint.
The film is overall rather impeccable down to its last song on the period soundtrack, and makes no bones about the essential difference between appearance and reality, how both may be opposite sides of the same coin.
The reborn radical gay may find delight in Masahista, which is not officially part of CineManila but on a better day should be.
The Brillante Mendoza film is a feast of visual storytelling via juxtaposition, from massage parlor to funeral parlor and back, from the sordid interiors to the jolting outdoor sunlight that renders the gracefully aging actress Jaclyn Jose in a rather surreal mode, perhaps due in no small part to the transposition to 35 mm from the original digital.
It’s only later we learn that Mendoza was the production designer for a couple of Jaclyn Jose movies almost 20 years ago shortly after the first Edsa revolt, Private Show and Takaw Tukso, films we were made instant fans of not only due to the actress’ admirable torso but for the worthwhile storytelling that was a worthy distraction during the tumultuous post-revolutionary milieu.
Several homosexual scenes may offend the unprotected sensibilities of the more conservative sector of the audience, and the narrative seems to take its sweet time such that at least one editor said that a good way to view it would be to consider it as a documentary in real time. And one comedian admitted that Masahista did hit a nerve, but alas, the wrong nerve.
Mendoza may be saying something about the body, how it could be merely playing the sap for the soul. We cannot help too but remember the late great Brocka, and how he would have handled similar material. Allan Paule is as usual excellent here as the gay client of the masseur played by Coco Martin, years after Brocka cast Paule in the title role of Macho Dancer.
What can we say but that the truth is never pretty, not even the fleeting glimpse of Katherine Luna, the babae sa breakwater, as the loudmouthed girlfriend of Martin.
Mendoza must be doing something right, after all Masahista was named co-winner in the Locarno, Switzerland filmfest, and was official entry in several other film festivals abroad with more to come. Some movies are better left un-graded on nights when the poor cannot afford a decent meal, much less the price of a ticket at a moviehouse. It’s only money, the sap of the body, the sap of the soul.
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