![Pelikula Q&A: Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank Jansen Musico with writer Chris Martinez
Pelikula: You’re back for Cinemalaya, but not as the director… Chris: Marlon Rivera is directing. Siya yung co-producer ko sa 100. We take turns. Siya naman ngayon. Siya naman ang magdidirect… He used to be my boss at Basic Advertising. He was my CD before I became a CD myself.
Pelikula: Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank is a parody of the culture of indie filmmaking in the Philippines and, ironically, a part of that is Cinemalaya. What spurred you to make such a film? Chris: I think it’s relevant. It’s about independent filmmaking. It exposes our identity as a cinema.
Naisip namin ‘yan when we were going around festivals. The audience abroad were shocked with 100. It’s a Filipino film with a woman who lives in a nice condo. I wanted to say, “Hindi po kami lahat mahirap sa Pilipinas. Hindi po kami lahat nakitira sa ilalim ng tulay.” Kasi yun ang image nila, that’s why na-shock sila. Some of them were reacting in a way like, “How can you do a film like this when there are poor people in your country?” or “What if Mylene Dizon was poor, would she be able to do all the 100 things she did?” Pero middle class po kami eh. Hindi ba’t middle class ang pinaka kawawa dito sa bansang ito? We’re the ones who pay taxes to take care of everybody. So naisip namin, let’s make fun of it. Ito ba ang gusto niyo? Poverty? O ayan, poverty! Pero paglalaruan namin.
Kasi ‘yun ang naging identity natin sa festivals. These people want to see something they don’t have in their country. This something that needs to be talked about. It something that needs to be discussed. We’ll give you something that you want, but this is our take.
Pelikula: Tell us about the characters. What made you pick those three for your story? Chris: Septic Tank’s a comedy about a producer, writer, and production manager who actually doesn’t have a dialogue. She’s a bit player. They come to Starbucks to meet. They have their iPads, SLRs, cellphones, iPhones, and gadgets, and they speak in English. They want to do a film about poverty. Their dream is to make the first Filipino film to make it to the Oscars. Sinasadya nila na magpakita ng poverty kasi alam nila na it’s going to be picked up by international festivals. But they’re not bad people, they’re just naive and misguided.
While looking for actors, we were thinking, “Why not cast actual filmmakers in the role of filmmakers?” [They approached a prominent young independent filmmaker who declined, citing his zero skills in acting.] Ang lakas maka-meta, ‘no?”
Pelikula: What’s your personal stance on the whole mainstream VS indie debate? Chris: Sa ‘kin pareho lang eh. The way I delineate indie and mainstream is really all on economics. Caregiver would have been an indie film if may strict budget yung independent producer. KimmyDora is an independently-produced film with mainstream aspirations. Siyempre kapag mainstream, mas malaki ang pressure mo to do something that is a definite crowd pleaser. Kailangan kang panoorin ng tao. Kapag indie kasi, may limit yung budget, so that’s easy to recoup in the future. Kapag mainstream malaki ang budget, kasama na ang promo. For that to break even, you have to earn thrice.
I think mas nakakapressure ang mainstream in the way that it has to be more commercially appealing. Kapag independent kasi alam mo naman ang expectations mo eh. For Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank we’re not expecting a blockbuster film. If mainstream ang aspiration mo lagi, your film needs to make money so the producers can recover their investment and do more films.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lopvzg29FR1qax3ido1_r2_500.jpg)
Pelikula Q&A: Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank
Jansen Musico with writer Chris Martinez
Pelikula: You’re back for Cinemalaya, but not as the director…
Chris: Marlon Rivera is directing. Siya yung co-producer ko sa 100. We take turns. Siya naman ngayon. Siya naman ang magdidirect… He used to be my boss at Basic Advertising. He was my CD before I became a CD myself.
Pelikula: Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank is a parody of the culture of indie filmmaking in the Philippines and, ironically, a part of that is Cinemalaya. What spurred you to make such a film?
Chris: I think it’s relevant. It’s about independent filmmaking. It exposes our identity as a cinema.
Naisip namin ‘yan when we were going around festivals. The audience abroad were shocked with 100. It’s a Filipino film with a woman who lives in a nice condo. I wanted to say, “Hindi po kami lahat mahirap sa Pilipinas. Hindi po kami lahat nakitira sa ilalim ng tulay.” Kasi yun ang image nila, that’s why na-shock sila. Some of them were reacting in a way like, “How can you do a film like this when there are poor people in your country?” or “What if Mylene Dizon was poor, would she be able to do all the 100 things she did?” Pero middle class po kami eh. Hindi ba’t middle class ang pinaka kawawa dito sa bansang ito? We’re the ones who pay taxes to take care of everybody. So naisip namin, let’s make fun of it. Ito ba ang gusto niyo? Poverty? O ayan, poverty! Pero paglalaruan namin.
Kasi ‘yun ang naging identity natin sa festivals. These people want to see something they don’t have in their country. This something that needs to be talked about. It something that needs to be discussed. We’ll give you something that you want, but this is our take.
Pelikula: Tell us about the characters. What made you pick those three for your story?
Chris: Septic Tank’s a comedy about a producer, writer, and production manager who actually doesn’t have a dialogue. She’s a bit player. They come to Starbucks to meet. They have their iPads, SLRs, cellphones, iPhones, and gadgets, and they speak in English. They want to do a film about poverty. Their dream is to make the first Filipino film to make it to the Oscars. Sinasadya nila na magpakita ng poverty kasi alam nila na it’s going to be picked up by international festivals. But they’re not bad people, they’re just naive and misguided.
While looking for actors, we were thinking, “Why not cast actual filmmakers in the role of filmmakers?” [They approached a prominent young independent filmmaker who declined, citing his zero skills in acting.] Ang lakas maka-meta, ‘no?”
Pelikula: What’s your personal stance on the whole mainstream VS indie debate?
Chris: Sa ‘kin pareho lang eh. The way I delineate indie and mainstream is really all on economics. Caregiver would have been an indie film if may strict budget yung independent producer. KimmyDora is an independently-produced film with mainstream aspirations. Siyempre kapag mainstream, mas malaki ang pressure mo to do something that is a definite crowd pleaser. Kailangan kang panoorin ng tao. Kapag indie kasi, may limit yung budget, so that’s easy to recoup in the future. Kapag mainstream malaki ang budget, kasama na ang promo. For that to break even, you have to earn thrice.
I think mas nakakapressure ang mainstream in the way that it has to be more commercially appealing. Kapag independent kasi alam mo naman ang expectations mo eh. For Ang Babae Sa Septic Tank we’re not expecting a blockbuster film. If mainstream ang aspiration mo lagi, your film needs to make money so the producers can recover their investment and do more films.
Neck Deep in Shit
by Don Jaucian
Ang Babae sa Septic Tank (2011)
D: Marlon Rivera
S: Eugene Domingo, Kean Cipriano, J.M. De Guzman, Cai Cortez
Ang Babae sa Septic Tank starts with trash, or specifically, shit. There’s a shot of a girl pooping in a dumpsite while a poor kitty strays just beneath her bum, smelling the package that she just unloaded. For the film’s entire running time, we see a lot of shit happen unfold on screen. But it’s not the kind of shit that you think. And just by the number of the word “shit” in the first paragraph of this review you’ll probably get the notion that Ang Babae sa Septic Tank is all about shit, and it’s pretty much true.
To ambitious filmmakers Bingbong and Ranier, making a film with a decent narrative and clear cut directing is not enough. It has to be an international film fest bait. (“Ang indie filmmakers ngayon parang tourists!” says one of the film’s characters.) That’s why for their “ambitious” film, Walang Wala centers on squalor so gritty it clings to your skin. The houses are so close, they almost collide into each other.
In a way, the entire setting is the sea of poverty porn films in today’s film industry. They’re too many you can’t even distinguish them from one another. They also almost use the same actors, something that Septic Tank showed when the filmmakers were discussing who to cast for their lead actress, choosing among the three most in demand “indie” actresses: Cherry Pie Picache (“Too mestiza!”), Mercedes Cabral (“Is it believable that she has seven children?”), and Eugene Domingo. Of course, they pick Domingo, on the basis that she looks dirt poor.
Hinting on the pedigree and make of numerous poverty porn films, especially the ones that have garnered attention abroad, the filmmakers in Septic Tank exhausts all the possible treatments, the cliched ones anyway, to make their story, in the words of poster blurbs, “hard-hitting,” “poignant,” and “gripping.” The movie turns into a badly lit neo-realist film (“The shakier the camera, the better!), a musical, and a vehicle for product placements and endless overacting (which Domingo calls “TV Patrol acting”).
Septic Tank warrants an extensive discussion about the state of independent filmmaking in the country. They use the word “indie” too many times you’d think it’s a mantra that will magically qualify their film for the Oscars. Is it a topic too taboo for the entire film industry that the only way to talk about it is to make fun of it? Martinez and Rivera succeeds in this light, armed with a script (written by Martinez) so hilarious your lungs will probably do a, to quote Thysz Estrada, J. Lo (On the Floor), from laughing at pretty much everything that these bastards say.
But despite the numerous gags and witty one-liners you know it has something to say about independent cinema and filmmaking itself that makes you uncomfortable your only resort is to laugh at it.
