The Prairie Fire That Wanders About by Don Jaucian Meek’s Cutoff (2011) D: Kelly Reichardt S: Michelle Williams, Bruce Greenwood, Shirley Henderson, Paul Dano, Will Patton The wilderness can be a comforting place, its eerie silence presenting a strange calm that promises a future of beginnings. Rolling winds gather clouds, taking away the wanderers out into an open field where the horizon is the only rope that guides. But its vast emptiness has borne cautionary tales from the ancient times where inhuman entities and deities have made it a battle ground for men, an arena where endurance, faith, and beliefs are challenged, something that even the Son of God himself has suffered.  James Tissot’s ‘Jesus Tempted in the Wilderness’ Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness has stood as proof of his incorruptibility. Faced with hunger, powerlessness, and other demonic ministrations, Jesus withstood the Devil’s attempt to break his spirit and hand himself over into worldly desires. Often earmarked as a show of his divinity and high wisdom, the varying accounts of this temptation makes for an interesting standpoint between the Old and the New Testaments of the Bible, something that Kelly Richardt’s Meek’s Cutoff searingly handles with such grace and subtlety. By all means, Meek’s Cutoff can stand for any representation of a challenged leadership. Here is a ragtag bunch of men and women, parched, desperately scouring the Oregon desert for any sign of the end of their ordeal. As their supposedly two-day trek stretches into a harrowing journey, tension mounts as the water and supplies dwindle. The settlers suspect that their guide, Stephen Meek, isn’t exactly what he is supposed to be. Branded as the devil, the men initially decide to hang him if they still find themselves lost after a few days. But when they catch a Native American along their route, roles become reversed and their fate becomes more uncertain as ever. The Indian may be their only hope of at least getting water. But Meek’s assumptions of the Native American’s true nature (who doesn’t speak a bit of English) plants a deadly seed in the minds of most of the settlers. Talk of bloodshed and skin-ripping only instills more fear and paranoia to the group, but Emily (Michelle Williams) believes that the Indian doesn’t mean any harm. She feeds him with whatever they may spare and attempts to decode his gestures and mumbling, which the others interpret as a form of signal for the rest of his tribe to come and attack them. As a character reads verses from the Old Testament in various points of the film, Meek’s Cutoff can also be interpreted as a lost chapter of the Fall of Man. But this connection is never explicitly dealt. Meek is a figurehead of any religion, a prophet at least, luring believers into the unknown only to watch them crumble as they encounter more tribulations along the way. Reichardt fleshes off Meek as a shady character whose intentions remain questionable until the very end. He is as clueless and tired as anyone else, but his position doesn’t afford him to be crippled like the rest of them. Meek’s Cutoff doesn’t offer any resolutions or clear-cut definitions. Everything seems as elusive as the promised land that they have been pursuing. But its this vagueness that propels the film as it goes along in a plot furthered by nothingness. A questionable messiah is better than an absent one. Because after all, it’s this persistence of being that gives meaning to our lives, no matter how pointless it may seem. 

The Prairie Fire That Wanders About
by Don Jaucian

Meek’s Cutoff (2011)
D: Kelly Reichardt
S: Michelle Williams, Bruce Greenwood, Shirley Henderson, Paul Dano, Will Patton

The wilderness can be a comforting place, its eerie silence presenting a strange calm that promises a future of beginnings. Rolling winds gather clouds, taking away the wanderers out into an open field where the horizon is the only rope that guides. But its vast emptiness has borne cautionary tales from the ancient times where inhuman entities and deities have made it a battle ground for men, an arena where endurance, faith, and beliefs are challenged, something that even the Son of God himself has suffered. 

James Tissot’s ‘Jesus Tempted in the Wilderness’

Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness has stood as proof of his incorruptibility. Faced with hunger, powerlessness, and other demonic ministrations, Jesus withstood the Devil’s attempt to break his spirit and hand himself over into worldly desires. Often earmarked as a show of his divinity and high wisdom, the varying accounts of this temptation makes for an interesting standpoint between the Old and the New Testaments of the Bible, something that Kelly Richardt’s Meek’s Cutoff searingly handles with such grace and subtlety.

By all means, Meek’s Cutoff can stand for any representation of a challenged leadership. Here is a ragtag bunch of men and women, parched, desperately scouring the Oregon desert for any sign of the end of their ordeal. As their supposedly two-day trek stretches into a harrowing journey, tension mounts as the water and supplies dwindle. The settlers suspect that their guide, Stephen Meek, isn’t exactly what he is supposed to be. Branded as the devil, the men initially decide to hang him if they still find themselves lost after a few days. But when they catch a Native American along their route, roles become reversed and their fate becomes more uncertain as ever.

The Indian may be their only hope of at least getting water. But Meek’s assumptions of the Native American’s true nature (who doesn’t speak a bit of English) plants a deadly seed in the minds of most of the settlers. Talk of bloodshed and skin-ripping only instills more fear and paranoia to the group, but Emily (Michelle Williams) believes that the Indian doesn’t mean any harm. She feeds him with whatever they may spare and attempts to decode his gestures and mumbling, which the others interpret as a form of signal for the rest of his tribe to come and attack them.

As a character reads verses from the Old Testament in various points of the film, Meek’s Cutoff can also be interpreted as a lost chapter of the Fall of Man. But this connection is never explicitly dealt. Meek is a figurehead of any religion, a prophet at least, luring believers into the unknown only to watch them crumble as they encounter more tribulations along the way. Reichardt fleshes off Meek as a shady character whose intentions remain questionable until the very end. He is as clueless and tired as anyone else, but his position doesn’t afford him to be crippled like the rest of them.

Meek’s Cutoff doesn’t offer any resolutions or clear-cut definitions. Everything seems as elusive as the promised land that they have been pursuing. But its this vagueness that propels the film as it goes along in a plot furthered by nothingness. A questionable messiah is better than an absent one. Because after all, it’s this persistence of being that gives meaning to our lives, no matter how pointless it may seem. 

32
Wuthering Heights by Don Jaucian  My Week with Marilyn (2011) D: Simon Curtis S: Michelle Williams, Kenneth Branagh, Dame Judi Dench, Eddie Redmayne, Emma Watson, Dominic Cooper, Zoe Wanamaker, Dougray Scott Clouded by the pain of the life of a celebrity and the pressure of living up to great expectations, Marilyn Monroe (played by the brilliant Michelle Williams) collapses under the weight of it all. But her mesmerizing charm and ability to hook everyone’s hearts makes her a shady, manipulative character relying on the pegs provided by the people around her to walk. In My Week with Marilyn, her life-size peg is Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne), a future filmmaker who wants to start a career in the film industry. And just like Peter Brandt in Moneyball, he gets a hell of a first job as Marilyn Monroe’s caretaker (but third assistant director, really) in the production of Sir Laurence Olivier’s The Prince and the Showgirl. It’s all biopic business from hereon: Monroe’s troubled life and her struggle as an actress. Her delicate position earns her the ire of her co-star and director, who lashes at her for her shortcomings and lateness. But still the admiration is there, as Olivier tritely recalls in a later scene. Everyone goes on how a great actress Marilyn is, something that she doesn’t quite get herself. Curtis trusts us that we already know the doomed persona of Monroe, arguably the biggest film star in history. And this he builds by dwarfing the rest of the cast into a heap of dogs out for Marilyn’s attention: Olivier and his crew desperate to finish the film, her acting coach Paula Strasberg (a creepy Zoe Wanamaker) buttering her up so she can get her act together, and, of course, Clark, her all-around boy who desperately tries to suppress the boner that he has for the actress.  As a pre-Some Like it Hot Marilyn, Williams is splendid. The Marilyn Monroe Effect is heavily apparent here. Her pre-packaged persona, all dolled-up and smoldering is the towering inferno that makes everyone’s knees weak when she walks by. It’s quite easy to see how Colin fell in love with her, even for those brief moments that they had together would seem an eternity. “Should I be her?” Marilyn asks Colin as adoring fans approach her during her impromptu visit at the Windsor Castle. There is the distance of course between the superstar Marilyn and the stroll-in-the-park-skinny-dipping Marilyn that Colin immortalizes in his memory, but Curtis’s distinction is too artificial, too put on to flesh out the darkness that surrounds the actress.  On the big screen, it’s not easy to dissociate Williams and the real Marilyn. Williams inhabits Marilyn’s skin, every inch of it brimming with wit, stellar personality, and the right amount of vulnerability. Deep within her eyes, there is a sadness that threatens to overwhelm her, and maybe it did win in the end. 

Wuthering Heights
by Don Jaucian 

My Week with Marilyn (2011)
D: Simon Curtis
S: Michelle Williams, Kenneth Branagh, Dame Judi Dench, Eddie Redmayne, Emma Watson, Dominic Cooper, Zoe Wanamaker, Dougray Scott

Clouded by the pain of the life of a celebrity and the pressure of living up to great expectations, Marilyn Monroe (played by the brilliant Michelle Williams) collapses under the weight of it all. But her mesmerizing charm and ability to hook everyone’s hearts makes her a shady, manipulative character relying on the pegs provided by the people around her to walk. In My Week with Marilyn, her life-size peg is Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne), a future filmmaker who wants to start a career in the film industry. And just like Peter Brandt in Moneyball, he gets a hell of a first job as Marilyn Monroe’s caretaker (but third assistant director, really) in the production of Sir Laurence Olivier’s The Prince and the Showgirl.

It’s all biopic business from hereon: Monroe’s troubled life and her struggle as an actress. Her delicate position earns her the ire of her co-star and director, who lashes at her for her shortcomings and lateness. But still the admiration is there, as Olivier tritely recalls in a later scene. Everyone goes on how a great actress Marilyn is, something that she doesn’t quite get herself. Curtis trusts us that we already know the doomed persona of Monroe, arguably the biggest film star in history. And this he builds by dwarfing the rest of the cast into a heap of dogs out for Marilyn’s attention: Olivier and his crew desperate to finish the film, her acting coach Paula Strasberg (a creepy Zoe Wanamaker) buttering her up so she can get her act together, and, of course, Clark, her all-around boy who desperately tries to suppress the boner that he has for the actress. 

As a pre-Some Like it Hot Marilyn, Williams is splendid. The Marilyn Monroe Effect is heavily apparent here. Her pre-packaged persona, all dolled-up and smoldering is the towering inferno that makes everyone’s knees weak when she walks by. It’s quite easy to see how Colin fell in love with her, even for those brief moments that they had together would seem an eternity. “Should I be her?” Marilyn asks Colin as adoring fans approach her during her impromptu visit at the Windsor Castle. There is the distance of course between the superstar Marilyn and the stroll-in-the-park-skinny-dipping Marilyn that Colin immortalizes in his memory, but Curtis’s distinction is too artificial, too put on to flesh out the darkness that surrounds the actress. 

On the big screen, it’s not easy to dissociate Williams and the real Marilyn. Williams inhabits Marilyn’s skin, every inch of it brimming with wit, stellar personality, and the right amount of vulnerability. Deep within her eyes, there is a sadness that threatens to overwhelm her, and maybe it did win in the end. 

30
The Night Circus by Don Jaucian  Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011) D: Tomas Alfredson S: Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy, Ciaran Hinds, John Hurt, David Decinik, Mark Strong, Toby Jones For years, Hollywood (and TV) has shaped our perception of what makes a compelling spy film. There are the necessary explosions, undercover work, the rush of uncovering an underground cabal with a plan to destroy the US government (most of the time they’re Russians), fist fights with highly trained secret agents, and spiffy gadgetry, especially now with the prevalence of iPhones (showcased in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol) and just about any device that could make spy work easier.  “The West has become ugly,” so says the mole in Tomas Alfredson’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the big-screen adaptation of John Le Carre’s novel of the same name. Although the quote is an explanation of the mole’s reason for defection, it could also be construed as a commentary on the Hollywoodization of spy work, which has been reduced to mere gadget tinkering and outsourcing.  But Tinker, coming from the director of Let The Right One In (arguably the best vampire film of the last decade), is cut from a different mold. Although it lacks the high-octane thrills of a big-budget spy film, Tinker brings sexy back to espionage, with characters behaving like the 70’s old-world spies that they are while moving like GQ motion editorials. Gary Oldman was even very particular about the glasses of his character, the film’s hero George Smiley, trying on 300 pairs of glasses until he finally found the right one in a vintage glasses store in Pasadena.  Oldman’s preciseness reflects the pervading meticulousness of these characters, clouded by an air of Cold War-era paranoia that dictates the measures that they have to enact in order to secure the safeguarding of their country.  Smiley is directed to extract the mole in the Circus, the code name of the British Secret Intelligence Service, who has been leaking information to a Soviet spy master named Karla. His sources lead him to investigate four suspected people in the Circus codenamed Tinker (Toby Jones), Tailor (Colin Firth), Soldier (Ciaran Hinds), and Poorman (David Dencik). He untangles this web of cover-ups and deceit that leads to the upper echelon of the Circus, questioning the ethics and personal values that they have long upheld.  Tinker’s hushed tones of brown fleshes out the gloom that dominate the setting’s era. The absence of the Internet and mobile phones (Smiley had to rely on deploying people at specific places and using the landline) makes for a more compelling spy work, relying on instincts, the soundness and veracity of facts, and the trust that one puts on people. Alfredson crafts a crisp piece of cinema that is as finely dressed and layered as each of its shady characters. 

The Night Circus
by Don Jaucian 

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)
D: Tomas Alfredson
S: Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy, Ciaran Hinds, John Hurt, David Decinik, Mark Strong, Toby Jones

For years, Hollywood (and TV) has shaped our perception of what makes a compelling spy film. There are the necessary explosions, undercover work, the rush of uncovering an underground cabal with a plan to destroy the US government (most of the time they’re Russians), fist fights with highly trained secret agents, and spiffy gadgetry, especially now with the prevalence of iPhones (showcased in Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol) and just about any device that could make spy work easier. 

“The West has become ugly,” so says the mole in Tomas Alfredson’s Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the big-screen adaptation of John Le Carre’s novel of the same name. Although the quote is an explanation of the mole’s reason for defection, it could also be construed as a commentary on the Hollywoodization of spy work, which has been reduced to mere gadget tinkering and outsourcing. 

But Tinker, coming from the director of Let The Right One In (arguably the best vampire film of the last decade), is cut from a different mold. Although it lacks the high-octane thrills of a big-budget spy film, Tinker brings sexy back to espionage, with characters behaving like the 70’s old-world spies that they are while moving like GQ motion editorials. Gary Oldman was even very particular about the glasses of his character, the film’s hero George Smiley, trying on 300 pairs of glasses until he finally found the right one in a vintage glasses store in Pasadena. 

Oldman’s preciseness reflects the pervading meticulousness of these characters, clouded by an air of Cold War-era paranoia that dictates the measures that they have to enact in order to secure the safeguarding of their country. 

Smiley is directed to extract the mole in the Circus, the code name of the British Secret Intelligence Service, who has been leaking information to a Soviet spy master named Karla. His sources lead him to investigate four suspected people in the Circus codenamed Tinker (Toby Jones), Tailor (Colin Firth), Soldier (Ciaran Hinds), and Poorman (David Dencik). He untangles this web of cover-ups and deceit that leads to the upper echelon of the Circus, questioning the ethics and personal values that they have long upheld. 

Tinker’s hushed tones of brown fleshes out the gloom that dominate the setting’s era. The absence of the Internet and mobile phones (Smiley had to rely on deploying people at specific places and using the landline) makes for a more compelling spy work, relying on instincts, the soundness and veracity of facts, and the trust that one puts on people. Alfredson crafts a crisp piece of cinema that is as finely dressed and layered as each of its shady characters. 

25
Green Green Grass of Home by Don Jaucian Moneyball (2011) D: Bennett Miller S: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman  Moneyball isn’t exactly two hours of math and baseball, but its first half tries to expound the statistical basis of Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane (played here by a lightly simmering Brad Pitt) and economics Yale grad Peter Brand’s (Jonah Hill) game-changing strategy in winning twenty games in a row. There are a lot of numbers flickering on the screen, statistical analysis, player abilities whittled down to numbers, an unconventional approach that, until the 2002 U.S. baseball season, exists only in theory. After being gutted down by the New York Yankees in the 2001 post-season, Beane desperately tries to salvage what’s left of his team, a disheartening prospect especially with their meager budget. He’s already lost three of his star players to free agents. “The problem we’re trying to solve is there are rich teams and there are poor teams. Then there’s fifty feet of crap and then there’s us,” Beane howls to his scouts, sensing the impending doom of his team. But Beane is relentless. And when he encounters Brand’s proposal to get new players using an unconventional approach in assessing player value, relying on their base percentage, he sees a new hope for the team. Initially, this doesn’t work for the team, a ragtag bunch of rejects and losers ridiculed by the rest of the baseball world. They are still a dud. Beane also faces opposition from the Oakland A’s coach Art How (Philip Seymour Hoffman), but when the team is gutted and Beane places unlikely players in different positions, the team goes on to win twenty consecutive games in the season, an unmatched feat in American League history. Just like Chad Harbach’s celebrated debut novel The Art of Fielding, Moneyball doesn’t require a lot of baseball terminology Googling. The film’s concern is the Oakland A’s near-miraculous turn as baseball’s unlikely champions. Moneyball could have been a lesser film if it involved more staged sports montages, team practices, fan chanting, and team round-ups and pep talks. Instead, director Bennett Miller shows us how backroom baseball is more entertaining than the actual game. Players are traded from team to team like slaves, metaphorical guns are shot during boardroom meetings, and money, as always, ultimately becomes the center of the game.  But the main spectacle of Moneyball is Brad Pitt’s super manager Beane. He upends every nook and cranny of baseball to prevent the Oakland A’s from crumbling. His faith on the team, no matter how backwards and disappointing their records are, is unwavering, something that requires superhuman strength and willpower. Beane swaggers from room to field, carrying the weight of expectations and ridicule thrown upon the entire team. His tricks are cold, bordering on inhumane, but his playbook dealings are only aimed at building a team that delivers and inspires. Scattered here and there are some neat little stories: Chris Pratt’s deer-in-the-headlights turn as Scott Hatterberg, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s hammy coach, and Jonah Hill’s tightly leashed comedic verve. With all these sketchy characters piled into a heap, Moneyball becomes a motivational movie pinned with moments of personal triumph rather than a generic sports film.

Green Green Grass of Home
by Don Jaucian

Moneyball (2011)
D: Bennett Miller
S: Brad Pitt, Jonah Hill, Philip Seymour Hoffman 

Moneyball isn’t exactly two hours of math and baseball, but its first half tries to expound the statistical basis of Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane (played here by a lightly simmering Brad Pitt) and economics Yale grad Peter Brand’s (Jonah Hill) game-changing strategy in winning twenty games in a row. There are a lot of numbers flickering on the screen, statistical analysis, player abilities whittled down to numbers, an unconventional approach that, until the 2002 U.S. baseball season, exists only in theory.

After being gutted down by the New York Yankees in the 2001 post-season, Beane desperately tries to salvage what’s left of his team, a disheartening prospect especially with their meager budget. He’s already lost three of his star players to free agents. “The problem we’re trying to solve is there are rich teams and there are poor teams. Then there’s fifty feet of crap and then there’s us,” Beane howls to his scouts, sensing the impending doom of his team.

But Beane is relentless. And when he encounters Brand’s proposal to get new players using an unconventional approach in assessing player value, relying on their base percentage, he sees a new hope for the team. Initially, this doesn’t work for the team, a ragtag bunch of rejects and losers ridiculed by the rest of the baseball world. They are still a dud. Beane also faces opposition from the Oakland A’s coach Art How (Philip Seymour Hoffman), but when the team is gutted and Beane places unlikely players in different positions, the team goes on to win twenty consecutive games in the season, an unmatched feat in American League history.

Just like Chad Harbach’s celebrated debut novel The Art of Fielding, Moneyball doesn’t require a lot of baseball terminology Googling. The film’s concern is the Oakland A’s near-miraculous turn as baseball’s unlikely champions. Moneyball could have been a lesser film if it involved more staged sports montages, team practices, fan chanting, and team round-ups and pep talks. Instead, director Bennett Miller shows us how backroom baseball is more entertaining than the actual game. Players are traded from team to team like slaves, metaphorical guns are shot during boardroom meetings, and money, as always, ultimately becomes the center of the game. 

But the main spectacle of Moneyball is Brad Pitt’s super manager Beane. He upends every nook and cranny of baseball to prevent the Oakland A’s from crumbling. His faith on the team, no matter how backwards and disappointing their records are, is unwavering, something that requires superhuman strength and willpower. Beane swaggers from room to field, carrying the weight of expectations and ridicule thrown upon the entire team. His tricks are cold, bordering on inhumane, but his playbook dealings are only aimed at building a team that delivers and inspires.

Scattered here and there are some neat little stories: Chris Pratt’s deer-in-the-headlights turn as Scott Hatterberg, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s hammy coach, and Jonah Hill’s tightly leashed comedic verve. With all these sketchy characters piled into a heap, Moneyball becomes a motivational movie pinned with moments of personal triumph rather than a generic sports film.

23
2011: The Year in Filipino Films by Don Jaucian It’s a proclamation that heralds a new hope for the Philippine film industry: 2011 has been a pretty good year for Filipino films. Whether it’s the triumph of films like Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington over mindlessly offensive big studio productions, the success of Cinemalaya 7, or the spilling of independent filmmakers into the mainstream, these signs of life are indicative of a growing audience awareness that there is more to local cinema than formula films (read: taking a teenybopper love team to a banner movie with a title from a song that’s sure to be in every karaoke machine). Apart from Cinemalaya, Cinema One Originals, and Cinemanila, smaller film festivals were also held this year, including Khavn’s .MOV Film Festival, which paid tribute to Alexis Tioseco and Nika Bohinc, and Sine Rehiyon, which proved that filmmaking is alive and well in different parts of the Philippines. The Metro Manila Film Festival proved to be the cinematic claptrap that it still is, with this year’s entries just as mind-baffling a display of big studio mind-fuckery as last year’s were. They also continued their indie/new breed category, which ran for almost a week but featured such hackneyed films with only one or two deserving to be seen.  The closing of Mogwai Cinematheque dismayed many, with rumors saying that it was all because of managerial dispute. But other film screening venues also cropped up, such as John Torres and Shireen Seno’s As In Shop and Jewel Maranan and co.’s Cinema is Incomplete. Both venues have no door charge and only ask you to share your love for local cinema. Up north, there’s Baguio Cinematheque, which screens both classic and contemporary masterworks of Philippine cinema.  Local films have also made it to several international film festivals. Auraeus Solito’s Busong (Palawan Fate) opened at Cannes Director’s Fortnight. Adolf Alix’s Isda (Fable of the Fish) and Lav Diaz’s six-hour opus, Siglo ng Pagluwal (Century of Birthing), both had their international premieres in the Toronto International Film Festival. Alvin Yapan’s Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa (The Dance of Two Left Feet), Loy Arcenas’s Niño and Jeffrey Jeturian’s Bisperas (Eve) all garnered accolades in several international film festivals. The largely praised box office smash hit Ang Babae sa Septic Tank (The Woman in the Septic Tank) by Marlon Rivera emerged as, what one film critic calls, “the indie film for those who don’t usually watch indie films”. Its cinematic misgivings however displeased many, hitting all the wrong spots in a culture where envy is a common mark of trade.  This year’s crop of Filipino films certainly yielded an encouraging result, enough to persuade us to devote an entire list for them.  10. X-Deal (Lawrence Fajardo) That silhouette of John Hall’s massive erection means serious business. After the death of agricultural bomb flicks and the rise of gay sexploitation films, X-Deal’s sexual games and statement tee-worthy one liners (“Masama bang pagpahingahin ang kepyas ko?”) give us a new perspective on the dominance and volatility of the femal psyche. And hey, it’s not every day that we get a lead character that blogs for a living.  9. Isda (Fable of the Fish, Adolf Alix Jr.) It’s a plot that could have turned for the worse: a mother (Cherry Pie Picache) believing that the fish she apparently gave birth to is her real son, a gift from God. The film’s strange sense of humor doesn’t cloud the point that this is a mother struggling her way through the strife, battling insurmountable odds without losing her sanity in the first place. Driven by Picache’s heartbreaking performance as a woman on the verge, Isda questions the normalcies of motherhood which in the end boils down to the need to love and be loved.  8. Sakay sa Hangin (Wind blown, Regiben Romana) Just like Pedro Gonzalez-Rubio’s sea-faring charmer, Alamar (To The Sea), Sakay sa Hangin blurs the line between truth and fiction. Romana gives us a sublimely engaging immersion to the music and rituals of the Talaandig tribe where a simple crafting of a flute or a guitar transcends the mythic and the conflict brewing around them. Sakay sa Hangin prods us to think that our country is far larger than what our school textbooks have taught us and that music will always be the universal vessel of peace.  7.Buenas Noches, España (Raya Martin)  The nuances of history hide in the flickering colors of Buenas Noches, España. Its seemingly endless loop of images exacts the inherent difficulties of our past, forcing us to grapple along with its shifts and meanderings. Owel Alvero and Pat Sarabia’s skittering soundscape serves as the film’s ignition point, using a map where teleportation and Juan Luna paintings form a pocket guide to our history’s netherworld.  6. Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa (The Dance of the Two Left Feet, Alvin Yapan) Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa glides in elegant rhythms, dispelling the shackles of gender roles and artistic notions through the subtle guidance of the poetry of dance and glances teeming with possibilities. More than an unspoken love affair between its two leads (Paulo Avelino and Rocco Nacino), what Sayaw distills is an understanding of the place of art in our society and how we form and break values and traditions based on its heavy-handed maneuverings.  5. Big Boy (Shireen Seno) Big Boy ebbs and flows like the static hum of our own memories. Parcels of recollections flood its stream of consciousness, where faces and voices dissolve and become disembodied. What unravels is a complex mapping of our own past and how we are led, however broken-limbed, to the present. Shireen Seno’s debut film sifts through unreliability that provokes our shattered reminiscences, evoking a hazy trip into the blueprint of our dreams.   4. Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington (Zombadings 1: Kill Remington with Fear, Jade Castro) It happened. An upending of a woolly mammoth, proving that Filipino moviegoers are capable of flocking to a film with a solid story, little known stars and non-formula shtick. Zombadings 1 is born out of a sincere desire of the filmmakers to craft a film that challenges our cinematic perceptions while mining pressing issues (gay discrimination) that are put aside by banal big studio releases where life is always fluffy and ends with the swelling of a second-hand theme song. Through the guise of comedy and horror Zombadings 1 becomes a triumph in many different ways. And most of all, it makes audiences think, prodding them to reassess their pre-conceived (mostly Catholicized) ideas about homosexuality and how gay men and women shape our society as we know it.  3. Tundong Magiliw (Tondo Beloved, Jewel Maranan) Tundong Magiliw’s strength is its refusal to ram the shitty side of slum dwelling down the audience’s throats. As a continuing documentary, the film unfolds precariously, taking time to familiarize itself into the life of a family deadlocked into Tondo’s inescapable labyrinth. It finds life in the family’s most intimate moments, as they chuckle at Hilary Clinton’s most controversial moments and construct films of their own through covers of pirated DVDs. Tundong Magiliw shows us that there is more to Tundo than its decades-old notoriety and that these people are just like us, looking for something to hold on to in the unlikeliest of places.  2. Lawas Kan Pinabli (Forever Loved, Christopher Gozum Lawas Kan Pinabli opens with a case of hopelessness: a statistic saying that an estimated six million documented and one million undocumented migrant Filipino workers are scattered all over the world and some four thousand more join their ranks every day. What follows is a bitter picture of the lives of overseas Filipino workers abroad. But instead of depicting OFWs in the usual light, as the new heroes of this era, Lawas Kan Pinabli shows how the hardships of some of our fellowmen abroad are mostly due to their own making. Christopher Gozum paints two sides of the picture, presenting interviews with real OFWs (Gozum himself is an OFW working in the Middle East), detailing the ordeals that they went through, and discussions with OFW group leaders offering insights about the laws and regulations that Filipinos should abide to while working abroad, or at least in the middle east. Knowingly breaking rules and traversing ethical and cultural standards with reckless abandon, these Filipinos deal with realities that are far bigger than simply just realizing their dreams of giving their families the lives that they deserve.  1. Six Degrees of Separation From Lilia Cuntapay (Antoinette Jadaone) What else is there to say about Antoinette Jadaone’s brilliant, meta-loving film about the most famous but nameless extra in Philippine cinema? A lot, really, especially on how it encapsulates the Filipino Dream into the life of its lead actress. But what we should mention is how it deserves to be seen by every Filipino, especially those who grew up with the toothless face of ‘Nay Lilia stalking them in their dreams after watching the Halloween edition of Magandang Gabi Bayan or re-runs of Filipino horror films.  Taking a chance on an actress who is used to slinking into roles that demand mere minutes (or even seconds) of screen time, Jadaone creates a fascinating study of celebrity culture and how a community builds itself around a person who has represented their dreams of making it big one day. But more importantly, Six Degrees stems from a sincere, gimmick-free desire to recognize the life and legacy of an actress who has worked out of an earnest passion for the craft that she has dedicated herself in all her life.   Honorable Mentions: Mapang-akit (John Torres), Mga Anino sa Tanghaling Tapat (Ivy Universe Baldoza), Elehiya sa Bumibisita Mula sa Himagsikan (Lav Diaz), Boundary (Benito Bautista), Niño (Loy Arcenas), Busong (Auraeus Solito)

2011: The Year in Filipino Films
by Don Jaucian

It’s a proclamation that heralds a new hope for the Philippine film industry: 2011 has been a pretty good year for Filipino films. Whether it’s the triumph of films like Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington over mindlessly offensive big studio productions, the success of Cinemalaya 7, or the spilling of independent filmmakers into the mainstream, these signs of life are indicative of a growing audience awareness that there is more to local cinema than formula films (read: taking a teenybopper love team to a banner movie with a title from a song that’s sure to be in every karaoke machine).

Apart from Cinemalaya, Cinema One Originals, and Cinemanila, smaller film festivals were also held this year, including Khavn’s .MOV Film Festival, which paid tribute to Alexis Tioseco and Nika Bohinc, and Sine Rehiyon, which proved that filmmaking is alive and well in different parts of the Philippines. The Metro Manila Film Festival proved to be the cinematic claptrap that it still is, with this year’s entries just as mind-baffling a display of big studio mind-fuckery as last year’s were. They also continued their indie/new breed category, which ran for almost a week but featured such hackneyed films with only one or two deserving to be seen. 

The closing of Mogwai Cinematheque dismayed many, with rumors saying that it was all because of managerial dispute. But other film screening venues also cropped up, such as John Torres and Shireen Seno’s As In Shop and Jewel Maranan and co.’s Cinema is Incomplete. Both venues have no door charge and only ask you to share your love for local cinema. Up north, there’s Baguio Cinematheque, which screens both classic and contemporary masterworks of Philippine cinema. 

Local films have also made it to several international film festivals. Auraeus Solito’s Busong (Palawan Fate) opened at Cannes Director’s Fortnight. Adolf Alix’s Isda (Fable of the Fish) and Lav Diaz’s six-hour opus, Siglo ng Pagluwal (Century of Birthing), both had their international premieres in the Toronto International Film Festival. Alvin Yapan’s Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa (The Dance of Two Left Feet), Loy Arcenas’s Niño and Jeffrey Jeturian’s Bisperas (Eve) all garnered accolades in several international film festivals.

The largely praised box office smash hit Ang Babae sa Septic Tank (The Woman in the Septic Tank) by Marlon Rivera emerged as, what one film critic calls, “the indie film for those who don’t usually watch indie films”. Its cinematic misgivings however displeased many, hitting all the wrong spots in a culture where envy is a common mark of trade. 

This year’s crop of Filipino films certainly yielded an encouraging result, enough to persuade us to devote an entire list for them. 

10. X-Deal (Lawrence Fajardo)

That silhouette of John Hall’s massive erection means serious business. After the death of agricultural bomb flicks and the rise of gay sexploitation films, X-Deal’s sexual games and statement tee-worthy one liners (“Masama bang pagpahingahin ang kepyas ko?”) give us a new perspective on the dominance and volatility of the femal psyche. And hey, it’s not every day that we get a lead character that blogs for a living. 

9. Isda (Fable of the Fish, Adolf Alix Jr.)

It’s a plot that could have turned for the worse: a mother (Cherry Pie Picache) believing that the fish she apparently gave birth to is her real son, a gift from God. The film’s strange sense of humor doesn’t cloud the point that this is a mother struggling her way through the strife, battling insurmountable odds without losing her sanity in the first place. Driven by Picache’s heartbreaking performance as a woman on the verge, Isda questions the normalcies of motherhood which in the end boils down to the need to love and be loved. 

8. Sakay sa Hangin (Wind blown, Regiben Romana)

Just like Pedro Gonzalez-Rubio’s sea-faring charmer, Alamar (To The Sea), Sakay sa Hangin blurs the line between truth and fiction. Romana gives us a sublimely engaging immersion to the music and rituals of the Talaandig tribe where a simple crafting of a flute or a guitar transcends the mythic and the conflict brewing around them. Sakay sa Hangin prods us to think that our country is far larger than what our school textbooks have taught us and that music will always be the universal vessel of peace. 

7.Buenas Noches, España (Raya Martin) 

The nuances of history hide in the flickering colors of Buenas Noches, España. Its seemingly endless loop of images exacts the inherent difficulties of our past, forcing us to grapple along with its shifts and meanderings. Owel Alvero and Pat Sarabia’s skittering soundscape serves as the film’s ignition point, using a map where teleportation and Juan Luna paintings form a pocket guide to our history’s netherworld. 

6. Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa (The Dance of the Two Left Feet, Alvin Yapan)

Ang Sayaw ng Dalawang Kaliwang Paa glides in elegant rhythms, dispelling the shackles of gender roles and artistic notions through the subtle guidance of the poetry of dance and glances teeming with possibilities. More than an unspoken love affair between its two leads (Paulo Avelino and Rocco Nacino), what Sayaw distills is an understanding of the place of art in our society and how we form and break values and traditions based on its heavy-handed maneuverings. 

5. Big Boy (Shireen Seno)

Big Boy ebbs and flows like the static hum of our own memories. Parcels of recollections flood its stream of consciousness, where faces and voices dissolve and become disembodied. What unravels is a complex mapping of our own past and how we are led, however broken-limbed, to the present. Shireen Seno’s debut film sifts through unreliability that provokes our shattered reminiscences, evoking a hazy trip into the blueprint of our dreams.  

4. Zombadings 1: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington (Zombadings 1: Kill Remington with Fear, Jade Castro)

It happened. An upending of a woolly mammoth, proving that Filipino moviegoers are capable of flocking to a film with a solid story, little known stars and non-formula shtick. Zombadings 1 is born out of a sincere desire of the filmmakers to craft a film that challenges our cinematic perceptions while mining pressing issues (gay discrimination) that are put aside by banal big studio releases where life is always fluffy and ends with the swelling of a second-hand theme song. Through the guise of comedy and horror Zombadings 1 becomes a triumph in many different ways. And most of all, it makes audiences think, prodding them to reassess their pre-conceived (mostly Catholicized) ideas about homosexuality and how gay men and women shape our society as we know it. 

3. Tundong Magiliw (Tondo Beloved, Jewel Maranan)

Tundong Magiliw’s strength is its refusal to ram the shitty side of slum dwelling down the audience’s throats. As a continuing documentary, the film unfolds precariously, taking time to familiarize itself into the life of a family deadlocked into Tondo’s inescapable labyrinth. It finds life in the family’s most intimate moments, as they chuckle at Hilary Clinton’s most controversial moments and construct films of their own through covers of pirated DVDs. Tundong Magiliw shows us that there is more to Tundo than its decades-old notoriety and that these people are just like us, looking for something to hold on to in the unlikeliest of places. 

2. Lawas Kan Pinabli (Forever Loved, Christopher Gozum

Lawas Kan Pinabli opens with a case of hopelessness: a statistic saying that an estimated six million documented and one million undocumented migrant Filipino workers are scattered all over the world and some four thousand more join their ranks every day. What follows is a bitter picture of the lives of overseas Filipino workers abroad. But instead of depicting OFWs in the usual light, as the new heroes of this era, Lawas Kan Pinabli shows how the hardships of some of our fellowmen abroad are mostly due to their own making.

Christopher Gozum paints two sides of the picture, presenting interviews with real OFWs (Gozum himself is an OFW working in the Middle East), detailing the ordeals that they went through, and discussions with OFW group leaders offering insights about the laws and regulations that Filipinos should abide to while working abroad, or at least in the middle east. Knowingly breaking rules and traversing ethical and cultural standards with reckless abandon, these Filipinos deal with realities that are far bigger than simply just realizing their dreams of giving their families the lives that they deserve. 

1. Six Degrees of Separation From Lilia Cuntapay (Antoinette Jadaone)

What else is there to say about Antoinette Jadaone’s brilliant, meta-loving film about the most famous but nameless extra in Philippine cinema? A lot, really, especially on how it encapsulates the Filipino Dream into the life of its lead actress. But what we should mention is how it deserves to be seen by every Filipino, especially those who grew up with the toothless face of ‘Nay Lilia stalking them in their dreams after watching the Halloween edition of Magandang Gabi Bayan or re-runs of Filipino horror films. 

Taking a chance on an actress who is used to slinking into roles that demand mere minutes (or even seconds) of screen time, Jadaone creates a fascinating study of celebrity culture and how a community builds itself around a person who has represented their dreams of making it big one day. But more importantly, Six Degrees stems from a sincere, gimmick-free desire to recognize the life and legacy of an actress who has worked out of an earnest passion for the craft that she has dedicated herself in all her life.  

Honorable Mentions: Mapang-akit (John Torres), Mga Anino sa Tanghaling Tapat (Ivy Universe Baldoza), Elehiya sa Bumibisita Mula sa Himagsikan (Lav Diaz), Boundary (Benito Bautista), Niño (Loy Arcenas), Busong (Auraeus Solito)

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