While the annual cinematic merrymaking has often been mired in controversy, it has also given the industry some of the most celebrated films during the second golden age of Philippine cinema in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s. 

Those classics were helmed by the legendary likes of Lino Brocka (“Ina Ka ng Anak Mo,” “Bona”), Ishmael Bernal (“Himala”), Eddie Romero (“Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Kayo Ngayon”), Mike de Leon (“Kung Mangarap Ka’t Magising”), Celso Ad Castillo (“Burlesk Queen”), Lupita Concio-Kashiwahara (“Minsa’y Isang Gamu-gamo”), Danny Zialcita (“Karma”), Mario O’Hara (“Bulaklak ng City Jail”), Eddie Garcia (“Atsay”) and Marilou Diaz-Abaya (“Brutal,” “Moral,” “Karnal”). 

But what’s the point of revisiting the past if its hard-earned lessons can’t help inform and shape the future? As it turns out, there’s also much to celebrate as the MMFF commemorates that legacy on its 50^th anniversary. 

While this year’s superstar-studded 10 entries have their share of imperfections, each production is nonetheless boosted by significant themes supplemented by fine performances and first-rate production values. And unlike the festival’s previous incarnations, not even its weakest title this year is—to put it bluntly—walkout-worthy. Even the entries of perennial crowd-drawers Vice Ganda (Jun Lana’s “And the Breadwinner Is…”) and Vic Sotto (Michael Tuviera’s “The Kingdom”) are a cut above formulaic blockbuster fare.

We weigh in on the entries below:

‘And the Breadwinner Is…’

After five years, Vice returns to the MMFF with his finest film—and strongest performance—to date, utilizing a potent combo of rip-roaring comedy and relatable drama to examine issues about the downside of the Filipino diaspora, sexuality, personal sacrifice and complex family dynamics. 

Vice plays 44-year-old Taiwan-based breadwinner Bambi Salvador who comes home realizing that all his savings have been squandered by his inept siblings. But when he is falsely believed to have died in a traffic accident, his family turns tragedy into timely opportunity. Can Bambi stay dead long enough for his desperately cash-strapped brothers and sisters to collect a P10-million insurance claim?

Vice seizes the dramatic spotlight in an extended confrontation sequence with all the major characters in attendance. In it, Bambi spills his heart out as he describes his role in his family as the burial ground of his dreams: “ang sementeryo ng mga pangarap ko.” 

Carefully paced and earnestly staged, the scene plays well to the strengths of its performers, particularly Vice and the consistently reliable Eugene Domingo (as Bambi’s estranged sister Baby). Indeed, this “Breadwinner” is a veritable crowd-pleaser fueled by its huge beating heart.

‘The Kingdom’

Set in a fictional Philippines never conquered by colonizers, second best picture winner “The Kingdom” benefits as much from its eye-candy appeal as its intricate “Succession”-style mythmaking. 

Directed by best director co-winner Michael Tuviera, the film casts Vic Sotto against type in a role—as widower Lakan Makisig Nandula—that allows viewers to see the comic luminary in a more serious light. 

As Makisig faces off against Sulo Tagum (Piolo Pascual, dashing as ever), the son of a disgraced former royal guard, the aging monarch also finds himself torn between duty and family as he’s forced to weigh in on his grown kids’ contentious loyalty. 

In this parallel reality, the future of the Filipino nation rests on reckless Prince Bagwis (Sid Lucero), the ambitious Princess Matimyas (Cristine Reyes) and the soft-spoken Princess Lualhati (Sue Ramirez). But are they up to the task?

‘The Uninvited’

A tougher row to hoe is Dan Villegas’ gripping but ultimately predictable “The Uninvited,” which casts Vilma Santos, convincing as usual, in the role of a mother raring to avenge the violent death of her only daughter (Gabby Padilla). 

But seeing the impassioned but frail-looking teacher transmogrify into a one-woman army during billionaire Guilly Vega’s (Aga Muhlach) 55^th birthday fete strains credulity. It doesn’t help that the hardworking Aga lacks believability as an unhinged crime lord.

One of the production’s bright spots is Nadine Lustre (as Guilly’s rebellious daughter Nicole), who manages to turn a relatively small role into an award-worthy portrayal.

‘Topakk’

As action films go, nothing packs as much wallop as third best picture winner “Topakk,” a daringly realized movie about guilt-ridden, PTSD-stricken former soldier Miguel Vergara (Arjo Atayde, powerful but too scrawny for the role) who now moonlights as a security guard.

But a disastrous run-in with Weng Diwata (Julia Montes) and her irascible brother Bogs (Kokoy de Santos), petty thieves caught in the crossfire of a mob rubout, triggers Miguel’s anxiety attacks and drives him to protect the embattled siblings from two rival factions of corrupt cops (Sid Lucero, Bernard Palanca). The film delivers a mighty punch, but its shocking violence and gore aren’t for the squeamish.

‘Isang Himala’

Bookended by voice-overs—delivered by National Artist Nora Aunor, no less—that help set it up for greatness, fourth best picture winner “Isang Himala” transports viewers into the hot and arid town of Cupang as it revisits the series of Marian apparitions appearing before 29-year-old visionary Elsa (Aicelle Santos). As Elsa’s popularity peaks, we also see the lives of the people around her unfurl into terrifying complexity.

Director Pepe Diokno’s adaptation of the 2003 stage musical comes with a persistent sense of disquiet. But this claustrophobic meditation on morality, faith and faithlessness somewhat dilutes the enigmatic appeal of Ishmael Bernal’s 1982 film classic. It is further weighed down by a running time that should have been 30 minutes shorter. 

That said, Aicelle’s clear and sparkling alto (not unlike Isay Alvarez’s or Dulce’s), complemented by the scene-stealing star turn of best supporting actress winner Kakki Teodoro, is well worth the price of admission. 

‘Espantaho’   

“Beautiful” and “scary” aren’t words that often go together when describing a horror film. But they certainly do in Quantum Films and Chito Roño’s “Espantaho,” about a family that comes undone when its womanizing patriarch dies.

Paced by best actress winner Judy Ann Santos, fine performances are also turned in by Lorna Tolentino, JC Santos, Janice de Belen, Eugene Domingo and the legendary Tommy Abuel. 

But what truly brings this movie buff so much joy is seeing the much-missed Chanda Romero on the big screen again. She turns a “polarizing” role into an acting showcase. Even when she delivers the hackneyed line “Sampid ka lang dito” (You’re just a freeloader), she manages to make every word ring true.

While it tugs at viewers’ heartstrings, “Espantaho” is also creepy as all get out and wears its very Pinoy heart proudly. It’s the most original Pinoy horror film we’ve seen in a long while.

‘My Future You’

Best director co-winner Crisanto Aquino’s cautionary tale “My Future You” puts a heartwarming spin on JP Habac’s 2023 Summer MMFF entry, “Love You Long Time.” 

In this fantastical romantic comedy, sparks fly when Lex (the charming Seth Fedelin) and Karen (Francine Diaz) connect through a dating app. They soon realize that they’re separated by different timelines: He’s from 2009, while she’s in 2024! But things go awry when they start tampering with the laws of nature and time.

‘Strange Frequencies: Taiwan Killer Hospital’

Kerwin Go’s found-footage horror film, “Strange Frequencies: Taiwan Killer Hospital,” is derivative but viewable. It follows Enrique Gil and Jane de Leon (playing themselves) as they embark on a ghost-hunting and click-baiting trip to Taipei with celebrities and influencers who refuse to heed the red flags that stare them in the face.

‘Hold Me Close’

Jason Paul Laxamana’s Japan-set romantic drama—about a guy (Carlo Aquino) falling for a squid vendor (Julia Barretto) who keeps driving him away—takes more time than necessary to tie up its loose ends. 

But if you dig deeper into the production’s deceptively apathetic heart, you’ll see a broken woman who’s haunted by trauma and a man who keeps running away from the repercussions of paralyzingly low self-esteem. It doesn’t help that the movie ends with a deus ex machina moment (no spoilers here) that confounds more than it clarifies. 

‘Green Bones’

Zig Dulay’s “Green Bones,” about two morally ambiguous heroes, isn’t just the best picture winner at this year’s MMFF; it’s also one of the finest films of 2024. It proves that GMA Pictures’ win for “Firefly” last year was no fluke. But the fact that the filmmaker responsible for those back-to-back triumphs couldn’t even win a single best director award is absurd.

Best actor winner Dennis Trillo’s appetite for more adventurous work results in a high-wire act that provides insight into his character’s dastardly deed.

In the movie, the actor plays Domingo Zamora, a petty thief and self-confessed former drug addict incarcerated for the double murder of his sister Joanna (Iza Calzado, effective as always) and her deaf-mute young daughter, Ruth (best child performer Sienna Stevens in a career-boosting turn).

After serving 10 years of his sentence at a penal facility, Dom gets his rare shot at redemption when he finds himself eligible for parole. But just when freedom is within reach, the arrival of new prison guard Xavier Gonzaga (best supporting actor Ruru Madrid, now evincing growth and maturity as an actor) exposes a web of lies that puts Dom’s impending release in jeopardy. 

As it ruminates on crime and punishment, the production manages to tackle relevant themes without getting didactic—about corruption and the culture of impunity in this country, the toxic intimations of revenge, man’s perpetual quest for salvation, and the polarizing aspects of restorative justice. It asks viewers to mull over a polarizing question: Do criminals deserve a second chance?

Read more: The business of the Metro Manila Film Festival

The post Golden haul: Strong lineup boosts 50th edition of MMFF appeared first on CoverStory.

An adaptation of an adaptation. If there are crossover artists, Ricky Lee’s “Isang Himala” is crossover material. 

The spirit and essence of the original script remains intact. In the arid sleepy town called Cupang there was Elsa, a 29-year-old woman who, after an eclipse, claimed to have spoken with the Virgin Mary. Thus began her mission as a healer. She became known far and wide, and while tourists came and Cupang became a bustling town, corruption found its way in and the town’s cultural spine broke down. 

But Jose Lorenzo Diokno—Pepe to those who know him and reinventor of this new iteration—had a few things in mind. From the original Ilocos desert, Cupang is transformed into a wasted mining community. Production designer Erickson Navarro and his team built this community, made of concrete, in a studio in Makati. It was lit and photographed by Carlo Mendoza.

Diokno, Navarro and Mendoza comprise the main creatives in last year’s award-winning “GomBurZa.” 

It was Diokno who approached Vincent de Jesus, who wrote the book and composed the music of the play, to pitch the idea of adapting the musical to film. It was easy to get Ricky Lee’s nod. (A sidebar: Another company also chose Ricky’s script to be made into a musical film. It even started its media blitz, capitalizing on Piolo Pascual who, it said, had agreed to do the project. But this is for another story.)

Then the casting. Since Diokno saw the musical on stage, he wanted the original cast (at least the version he saw) for his film. I am not sure how he was able to convince his producers to cover the cost, but “Isang Himala” features (or should I say boasts?) an all-theater-actor ensemble. Aicelle Santos is Elsa; Bituin Escalante is Saling, the adoptive mother; David Ezra is Orly, the video journalist; Kakki Teodoro is Nimia, who returns to Cupang to open a cabaret; Neomi Gonzales is Chayong, Elsa’s ardent follower; Vic Robinson is Pilo, boyfriend of Chayong; and Sweet Plantado is Mrs. Alba, the opportunist. 

Theater actors from various companies volunteered to appear in different roles—never mind if just drinking in the cabaret or walking in the town plaza, or even just part of the stampede scene. (Disclosure: I played a cameo as Mr. Chua, who is murdered by Pilo and Narding.) And surprise, surprise: National Artist Nora Aunor, the original Elsa, has a special participation. 

At the film’s premiere night last Dec. 19, theater people came in support of the film. Among those seen in the audience was Isay Alvarez, who played Nimia in the Peta (Philippine Educational Theater Association) version directed by Soxie Topacio.  Also present was human rights lawyer and Akbayan Partylist first nominee Chel Diokno, the director’s proud father. 

Audience and critics are one in praising the film and the cast. Aicelle had a more “career-conscious” take on Elsa when she was being filmed. Bituin’s aria as Saling is heartbreaking; Kakki lights up the screen with her Nimia. Ezra, first time to act before the camera playing someone behind the camera, is a delight to watch in his confession scene. So it was also with Neomi as Chayong.  De Jesus’ songs are so hauntingly beautiful that the actor-singers embraced the melody and allowed it to just flow through them. 

Film director Mac Alejandre, who has seen all iterations of the script, said “Isang Himala“ is “a showcase of the passion of theater actors… a testament to their dedication to their craft and commitment to the material.” 

After last year’s “GomBurZa,” Alejandre also said, “Isang Himala” is Pepe Diokno “on steroids.”

Film reviewer Fred Hawson wrote: “Ricky Lee’s religious debate of a script, with its biting sociopolitical commentary, remains as complex and thought-provoking… which is why this story has timeless significance.” 

And timeless it will be. In a scene where a folk belief on death failed to be realized, a character speaks of continuity: “Ibig sabihin, may susunod pa.” 

Ricky Lee says he has finished writing the sequel. Elsa lives.

The post ‘Isang Himala’: adapting an adaptation appeared first on CoverStory.

When I was a young movie fan in grade school, I considered its precursor, the Manila Film Festival (MFF), a grand fiesta of Filipino films. I anticipated the event, reading about it in the weekly Manila publications Philippines Free Press, Graphic, and Nation, which were sold by a sole newspaper dealer in our remote town of Lopez in Quezon. 

The publications popular with the masses, like Pilipino, Sixteen (the precursor of the defunct glossy Mod), and Tinedyer Songs and Shows (or TSS) also came in handy for blow-by-blow accounts of the film fest—a field day of local movies, whether drama, action, comedy etc.

I remember my older sister and me standing among the crowd lining the stretch of Avenida Rizal in the central district of Sta. Cruz in Quiapo, Manila, and waiting for the Parade of Stars. The colorful floats carried the cast members of the films selected as festival entries. 

I can’t remember the year but from my research now, it must have been 1966. But I do recall action stars Jess Lapid, Jing Abalos, and one other whose name and image elude me now, riding on horseback on the concrete avenue. Oh, those screen idols fighting for the liberation of the poor and the oppressed were touching ground, even if on horseshoes. The poor were beholding their knights in shining armor in flesh and blood, but would later realize they were mortal, after all (Jess would be gunned down in a bar and Jing would fade into oblivion).  

I’ve forgotten the other details of the parade. What remains vivid in my mind is the festive mood—the throngs of fans and kibitzers, excited and starstruck.

The MFF was the brainchild of Antonio J. Villegas, the mayor of Manila in the 1960s.

Cinema magic

As I grew older, my perception of the annual film fest—the magic of the cinema and its makers—did not change. 

During my junior year in college, my heart leaped when, on my way to school, I saw production crews putting finishing touches on the six-by-six carrozas of “Tok-Tok Palatok” and “Krimen: Kayo ang Humatol” in front of the University of Santo Tomas grounds where the parade was to start.  The films were two of the festival entries.

Still nowhere in sight were lead stars Vilma Santos and Jojit Paredes (for the first float) and director-actor Jun Raquiza, with Gina Pareno and Marianne de la Riva as co-stars (for the second float). 

When I arrived at our experimental psychology lab class, Danny T. Vibas (now an entertainment journalist) was chuckling over our prof’s observation that many of our classmates were late, or absent. “Nanonood po ng parada (They’re watching the parade),” Vibas said in a jeering tone. I was embarrassed, as though I was the one being referred to.

At that time the MFF was held midyear, usually in June, in honor of the founding of the City of Manila. That changed when the Metropolitan Manila Development Authority (MMDA) took over the management of the festival in 1974, thus the name Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF).

In my early years in movie reporting, I would ride on certain floats—for example, that of “Kape’t Gatas” (1980), because I was close to its lead actress Julie Ann Fortich who teamed up with comedian Chiquito in the movie.

Being a protege of the (still missing) entertainment writer, talent manager and TV host Boy C. de Guia, I also joined the “Hot Property” (1983) cast on its float. His talent Carmi Martin was the titular star of the project that he line-produced and promoted.

Starting in those years, the MMFF Parade of Stars was held on Christmas Eve, or one day before the festival opening.

Commercial venture

Through my years in show biz writing, it has dawned on me that a film, apart from its art component, is a commercial venture that includes the MMFF. A film is a product that is promoted, marketed and sold for profit. It is also an artefact that should be promoted for the public to savor and keep for posterity, as part of heritage and culture preservation.

The MMFF can claim to be the perfect vehicle to showcase artistic excellence. But it cannot be denied that it caters also to the business interests of the movie makers, for how can there be ranking in the box-office earnings of the entries?

The MMDA and the MMFF drumbeat the entries’ performance at the tills, obviously to stir the interest of the ticket-buyers. To add to the drum roll, the multimedia report and document the MMFF top-grossers and cellar-dwellers, whether in official figures or estimates.

Consider “Rewind,” a co-venture of Star Cinema, APT Entertainment, and AgostoDos Pictures and an entry at the 2023 MMFF that starred real-life couple Marian Rivera and Dingdong Dantes. 

According to records, “Rewind” made almost P1 billion in sales on both local and international charts and became Philippine cinema’s bestselling film of all time—until the recent “Hello, Love, Again,” a non-MMFF lister, grabbed the record with sales of more than P1 billion and counting.  

Product marketing  

In recent years, or immediately before the Covid-19 pandemic, the Parade of Stars was held days before Christmas and the festival opening. This year, the parade was held five days before the first day of showing.

The date change for the parade is indicative of the consumerist idea of longer product marketing—the longer the promotion, the better—to attract more customers and clients in advertising the entire project. Pressers on an official entry are done one month before its public exhibition.

It’s a marketing strategy to draw more moviegoers as film screenings are a dime a dozen, especially on online platforms where competitive films are streamed. Alas, certain entries were readily pirated and uploaded on YouTube, Facebook and other digital apps, affecting the box-office chances of the festival entries.

Official selections and awards are also barometers of the commercial success or failure of an MMFF entry. Any producer would be eager to be included in the festival for it is a chance for their product to sell and/or win an award.

One of the MMFF’s business strategies is the holding of the Gabi ng Parangal aside from its recognition of the films’ artistic merits. Traditionally, the Gabi ng Parangal is held two days after the opening day because the awards could lure movie-goers to watch the films during the festival’s remaining days. 

Changes    

Generally, the criteria for the selection of the official entries are artistic excellence, commercial appeal, Filipino cultural sensibility, global appeal, creativity and originality, storytelling and technical proficiency. The parameters are generally applicable to the entries although in the awarding, there are diverse minds analyzing, grading and scoring the nominations from where the winners would be chosen.

But there were awards nights in which there were no presentations of nominations, only announcements of winners.

In my 50 years of covering and reporting on the MMFF, the original criteria have been applied to the most outstanding entry. But there have been changes, especially in 2016 when certain rules and regulations were altered.

A report states: “The selection criteria for MMFF official entries are: story, audience appeal and overall impact, 40%; cinematic attributes and technical excellence, 40%; global appeal, 10%, and Filipino sensibility, 10%.

“Aside from commercial viability, the old selection criteria included production or technical excellence, 40%, and cultural and historical value, 10%.”

It was the year when mostly independent films were selected, like Alvin Yapan’s “Oro,” Arturo San Agustin and Real Florido’s “Kabisera,” Marlon Rivera’s “Ang Babae sa Septic Tank 2 (#ForeverIsNotEnough),” Jun Robles Lana’s “Die Beautiful,” Avid Liongoren’s “Saving Sally,” Erik Matti’s “Seklusyon,” Theodore Boborol’s “Vince & Kath & James” and Babyruth Villarama’s “Sunday Beauty Queen.”

The movies of the perennial MMFF box-office icons Vic Sotto and Vice Ganda were snubbed by the selection committee headed by film critic, teacher, book author, playwright and historian Nicanor G. Tiongson. It was a controversial decision that made history in the MMFF. 

2024 entries

Which of these entries in the current MMFF will stand out as hits and/or gain critical acclaim? (The festival runs from Dec. 25 to Jan. 7, during which no foreign film is shown in movie theaters.)

• “And the Breadwinner is…” Star Cinema, The IdeaFirst Company; directed by Jun Robles Lana. An overseas Filipino worker in Taiwan comes home eager to check on the progress of the new house she is building, only to discover that her money is not being spent properly. Starring Eugene Domingo, Joel Torres, Gladys Reyes, John Hilario, Kokoy de Santos, among others.

• “Green Bones.”  GMA Pictures; directed by Zig Dulay. A prisoner and a jail warden are morally confronted by their past lives. Starring Dennis Trillo and Ruru Madrid.

• “Isang Himala.” Kapitol Films, USX; directed by Pepe Diokno. A musical adaptation of the iconic movie “Himala,” starring Aicelle Santos, David Ezra and Bituin Escalante.

• “The Kingdom.” M-Zet Productions, APT Entertainment and Media Quest; directed by Michael Tuviera. An epic historical drama set in the Kingdom of Kalayaan, tackling the issue of royal succession under Lakan Makisig’s leadership. Starring Piolo Pascual and Vic Sotto.

• “Strange Frequencies: Taiwan Killer Hospital.” Reality MM Studios; directed by Kerwin Go. A group of Filipino amateur ghost hunters explore the controversial Xinglin General Hospital in Taiwan and witness strange phenomena therein. starring Enrique Gil, Jane de Leon, Alexa Miro, MJ Lastimosa, Raf Pineda and Ryan Azurin.

• “Espantaho.” Quantum Films, Cineko Productions, Purple Bunny Productions; directed by Chito S. Rono. A mother and her daughter are caught in a web of complicated and morally challenging situations involving married men. Starring Judy Ann Santos, Lorna Tolentino, Janice de Belen and Chanda Romero.

• “Hold Me Close.” Viva Films, Ninuo Media; directed by Jason Paul Laxamana. Adventurer Woody meets Lynlyn in Japan, and their platonic relationship evolves as they try to discover if they are really meant for each other. Starring Carlo Aquino and Julia Barretto.

• “My Future You.” Regal Entertainment; directed by Crisanto Aquino. About dating apps and young people Karen and Lex who meet and instantly hit it off, only to realize they’re on two different planes—she in 2024 and he in 2002. Starring Francine Diaz and Seth Fedelin.

• “Topakk.” Nathan Studios, Strawdog Studios, FUSSE; directed by Richard Somes. A former special forces operative with PTSD tries to rescue a woman being hunted by a corrupt police death squad affiliated with a drug cartel. Starring Arjo Atayde, Julia Montes, Levy Ignacio, and a lot more.

• “Uninvited.” Mentorque Productions, Project 8 Projects; directed by Dan Vilegas. A grieving mother sets out to seek revenge for the death of her daughter. Starring Vilma Santos, Aga Muhlach and Nadine Lustre.

Read more: At the MMFF: Don’t get dazzled by movie trailers

The post The business of the Metro Manila Film Festival appeared first on CoverStory.

I was ready to talk about senior citizens in show biz precisely because I am one of them. I marked the milestone in 2014, in time for my presidency of the Lopez Provincial High School Class of 1971 in Lopez, Quezon.

It was a timely discussion, although issues concerning the elderly in any field are and should be regular stuff to learn from—not only their rights and privileges but also how they cope with their situation in society, including ageism and problems with their health and well-being.

In show biz alone, how many movie, TV, music, stage and multimedia personalities suffer from the ageist attitude of the market?

A consumerist society such as ours puts much premium on youth, and movies and TV dramas are starred in or hyped for young people as if the audiences were composed only of teenagers.

In terms of commercial success, the public is dictated on by the likes of Kathryn Bernardo or Daniel Padilla or Alden Richards, the relatively young Marian Rivera, Piolo Pascual or Angel Locsin or Dingdong Dantes, and the divas or divos in their prime, Aicelle Santos or David Ezra or Gab Pangilinan, as flagships of a top-rating show, a moneymaker movie, and a hit theater play.

History speaks for itself. Young people dominate the media scenes in the Philippines; they are proclaimed by their makers and handlers as the faces of success. Long ago, the young Carmen Rosales, Rogelio de la Rosa, Gloria Romero, Juancho Gutierrez, Susan Roces, Romeo Vasquez, Nora Aunor, Tirso Cruz III, Sharon Cuneta, Gabby Concepcion, to name only a few, were the toast of profit-oriented filmmaking.

Seldom is heard about the veterans. Hardly anyone is given their due as earners of the audiovisual medium.

Yet without the oldtimers billed below the title, a film, TV, or theater project wouldn’t be complete, or a hit. A project that features seasoned actors clicks occasionally, is considered a mild success, but it’s mostly attributed to good storytelling, not the performers.

According to a talent coordinator of a major network, these days senior actors have limited employment opportunities, whether contractual or on per-project basis. It was also like that during the Covid-19 pandemic, when senior actors were mostly sidelined by the deadly and contagious disease.

Then as now, scripts were revised to suit a majority of young people in the story lines. 

It’s good if actors past 60 are well-to-do or have savings and a pension to depend on. But what if they’re living hand to mouth? (And there are many even if they don’t present as such and continue to live delusionally.)

Movie reporters, too

The same holds true for those in the movie reporting beat. If you think entertainment writing is lucrative, think again.

Please stop harboring illusions that movie journalists earn big just because you see Boy Abunda flashy in his fashionable clothes or comfy in his palatial house on TV, or Ogie Diaz (who’s not a senior citizen yet) driving a car, or Aster Amoyo lunching with and interviewing stars in fancy restaurants. 

Look beyond the harsh realities about entertainment reporters and figure out their economic status. Not that we—I’m no exception—are no sucker to the system of “tokens of appreciation” or the blunter “doleout.” The issue is the rightful salary we deserve.

In my interaction with Lolly and her co-host, Rep. Rodolfo “Ompong” Ordanes of the Senior Citizens party-list, I mentioned the case of veteran entertainment reporter Alice Vergara. Now 86 years old, Alice started her career in the 1960s, writing about Amalia Fuentes, Fernando Poe Jr. and other celebrities at the height of their popularity. She has no government pension, no savings to speak of, no security benefits.

Labor laws also govern the likes of Alice, who has always been self-employed.

Alice still hangs around, gatecrashes show biz events (that reduces her to an inconsequential member of the movie press), and stays even after everyone has left. 

Yet she has paid taxes all these years, as income taxes and as deducted from the contributor’s fees she collected for her reports. Granting for the sake of argument that she hasn’t been the ideal citizen, but she is a person worthy of dignity especially in her octogenarian years.

To survive, Alice receives doles from colleagues. Her mere appearance elicits compassion. 

Can she still work despite her age? If she can still file reports, the better, but she laments that her work is no longer being accepted for publication. 

Elderly employment 

Ordanes said that if Alice still wants to work, but on a different track, there is an “elderly employment” measure recently passed on third and final reading by the House of Representatives. 

House Bill No. 10985, of which Ordanes is among the sponsors, received 173 affirmative votes during the plenary session in November.  It lists “clerical or secretarial work, consultancy, cleaning or janitorial services, event organizing, teaching, kitchen help, sales assistance, BPOs and other jobs or volunteer work” as possible jobs for the elderly.

“Mabagal lang ang ating Senado sa pag-apruba (The Senate is just slow in approving the bill),” Ordanes said.

He cited another proposed bill involving free maintenance medication, vaccination, medical assistance, etc. that he said would benefit Alice and other senior citizens in and outside show biz. 

But there are also socio-civic groups in show biz that support the likes of Alice Vergara, however supplementary, such as the Movie Workers Welfare Foundation, or Mowelfund, as long as one is a member.

Like asking for the moon

Years back, in his capacity as a filmmaker, Filipino British director Jowee Morel gathered movie columnists Art Tapalla, Danny Vibas, Jo Dino, Dave Rojo and myself into a group that could facilitate the building of a home care institution for aging gays as well as retired entertainment writers.

As a liaison officer, I found out that it wasn’t an easy endeavor to form a foundation, or even an association. Logistics was something to consider. Drawing up a comprehensive flowchart wasn’t an easy task. Seeking moral and financial support from politicians and socio-civic leaders was like asking for the moon.

In a conversation, the actor Azenith Briones said she had been suggesting to Senators Bong Revilla, Lito Lapid, Jinggoy Estrada, and Robin Padilla the provision of sustainable projects that would help Alice and others earn their keep.

“There are many senators who are from show biz. Why can’t they appropriate big money for the benefit of senior citizens in show biz?” she said, speaking in Filipino.

Ordanes observed: “They have large funds. Our budget is smaller than theirs.”

There are many Alice Vergaras in our midst, in various degrees and forms. They need as much help as they can get.

Read more: ‘What film can do more than what film can say’

The post How are seniors in show biz coping? appeared first on CoverStory.

If you don’t get the reference, that only means you are busy with life, and that’s fine, too.

Apo Manuel is the name of the character I played in the phenomenal teleserye, “Batang Quiapo,” now on its third year. The action-drama television series is so popular that the actors playing in it are called by their character names wherever they go. 

Why else would the respected actor-director Joel Lamangan be called Rhoda even in the community where he lives? Or why is internationally renowned actress Mercedes Cabral always called Lena, with the way she speaks her paramour’s name, Rigor, mimicked? Even lead actor Coco Martin is called Tanggol, his character’s name. This, after he was called Cardo for seven years on account of his character name in the equally popular “Ang Probinsyano.”

“Batang Quiapo” took off from a 1986 film with the same title, and starred Fernando Poe Jr. and Maricel Soriano. The similarity ends there (aside from the use of Quiapo as central location). 

The film ran for 150 minutes, but the series is now on its third year. And much like its predecessor, “Ang Probinsyano,” the series pays homage to the original title’s portrayer—thus the addition of his initials to the title: “FPJ’s Ang Probinsyano” and “FPJ’s Batang Quiapo.”

In 2017, Coco also did the nth iteration of “Ang Panday,” perhaps the most iconic character played by Fernando Poe Jr. By the looks of it, and with the success of the FPJ franchise, Coco is following in the footsteps of the acknowledged king of Philippine movies. He has not, however, categorically laid claim to the title of heir apparent; instead, he has displayed the characteristics of both an astute businessman and a benevolent young patriarch to the showbiz fiefdom.

Coco has formed his own CCM Films company, which now co-produces “Batang Quiapo” with Dreamscape Entertainment. As a producer, he has full creative control of the show, which includes casting little-known actors and popular vloggers, and reviving the acting career of those who have been unemployed for a while. The joke is that it has become difficult to hire actors and production crew for other shows because almost everyone is in BQ.

2 main storylines

It is easy to see why there are a lot of people involved in the production of BQ. The series covers two major storylines—the family in Quiapo where the love triangle of Rigor, Lena and Maritess exists with a whole community surrounding them, with Tindeng offering her own narrative arc; and the (mis)adventures of Tanggol, a Robin Hood-type of character with his own Merry Men called Tropa who interact with other subplot characters. 

Except for shared characters, the two plots run parallel and hardly intersect. Nonfans of the series assail the convoluted narratives yet watch each episode, as though immersed in the drama and pathos. 

The show’s weakest point—drawn-out high drama on one end and testosterone-packed action on the other—is also its strength. Audiences just keep watching. 

Rumor is rife that the script is written on the set. That is both a yes and a no. Actors receive a basic script that follows the storyline. Dialogues are often revised on the set, sometimes allowing actors to improvise. A writer is always on hand to do the revisions. Actors will memorize while rehearsing before a take. And that requires a whole lot of talent and skills which, thankfully, the whole ensemble possesses.

On the set, the atmosphere is serious but light. Everyone is on work mode, moving fast yet sure. But there is always laughter, especially during improv and if someone fumbles a line. The aim is efficiency. 

The BQ set was among the first to observe the 14-hour work-day schedule even before the Eddie Garcia Law was implemented. The food is always good, with generous servings. And everyone is pointing to and acknowledging Coco Martin’s leadership, almost reminiscent of how, in his time, both crew and actors respected FPJ as king of the industry. 

If Coco is indeed following in FPJ’s footsteps, he is on the right track. He will be called a different name each time. In the same persona he has created for himself.

Read more: That’s entertainment in politics

The post ‘Batang Quiapo’: Behind the ‘teleserye’ scenes appeared first on CoverStory.

Show business isn’t only about Kathryn Bernardo and Dingdong Dantes, or about Nora Aunor and Vilma Santos. Nor is it only about ABS-CBN, GMA7, TV5, Viva Entertainment, UNTV, Star Cinema, Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP), The Company, Gary Valenciano, Sarah Geronimo, etc.

Show business is also about tenors Nazer Salcedo and Terence Gil Guillermo, coloratura soprano Sweet Samaniego-Buchanan and soprano Margarita Roco, and baritone Onyl Torres. They are collectively called Tribu, a group known to sing mostly classical Filipino music—folk songs, kundiman, balitaw, danza, zarzuela and other traditional melodies—but is likewise into pop or signature OPM (Original Pilipino Music).

Additionally, they sing Broadway classics, Disney soundtracks, Hollywood theme songs, and other anthems of foreign movies. They have dished these out in their previous gigs and will do so again in their concert “Timeless Tribu,” which will be held at Greenhills Promenade’s Teatrino on Oct. 26 starting at 8 p.m.

“We also want to cater to the current generation, to the young people,” said Sweet, the group’s musical director.

‘Cultural phenomenon’

What a difference, then, does Tribu make from Lola Amour, Tito, Vic & Joey, Cueshe, Parokya ni Edgar, Mabuhay Singers, or even the Apo (formerly the Apo Hiking Society)?

They may be generational, but they seem the same banana beside the others in the popular entertainment circuit. Except that Tribu is described in the press briefs from Ephesus Teatron Group Inc. (apparently its management agency or production house) as a “cultural phenomenon”—seemingly in the mold or tradition of Armida Siguion-Reyna’s “Aawitan Kita,” if not high art, as many pundits may label their music.

Whoever thought of “cultural phenomenon” is sufficiently bright because the phrase seems safe—neutral, inoffensive, not threatening to other existing artists, humble yet provocative, a reminder of “The Phenomenal Nora Aunor” tag in the ’60s and ’70s—to play around with without the stakeholder losing one’s commercial identity in the industry.

The phrase is a marketing tool to introduce and preserve an image, but is not limited to the business of music. The music industry has a diversified market for artists to sell their products—i.e., concerts, musical scoring, publishing, recording (the latter in current platforms such as Spotify or iTunes and any other stores, digital or otherwise).

Tribung Pinoy

Tribu chooses its market but still wants, and strategizes to conquer, additional following. That was also the case of its predecessor, Tribung Pinoy, a cultural group conceptualized, organized, supported, sustained and more by the late banker, art patron, and former CCP board trustee Danny Dolor.

Tribu and Tribung Pinoy might have the same formula of versatility, or variety of selection. Entertainment journalist Ronald K. Constantino, who was very close to Danny Dolor, quipped that even during their reign starting in the ’70s onward, Tribung Pinoy also performed English songs, classical or pop, aside from Filipino music, old and new. 

The original members of Tribung Pinoy were, among others, coloratura soprano Gloria Dizon Coronel, lyric soprano Lourdes Francisco, tenor Renato Almira, basso profundo Constancio Cadelina, and mezzo soprano Erlinda Ascuna.

Sweet, a student of Coronel’s at University of Santo Tomas’ Conservatory of Music, is no stranger to the Dolor-led cultural icons, having performed in one or more of their shows. 

In 2011 the CCP invited Tribung Pinoy to mount a show billed “Harana sa Dapithapon,” but it was difficult to gather the pioneers because some of them had retired or passed on. With Dolor’s blessings, Sweet initiated the organization of a new voice ensemble, Tribu, now with its current members. She has continued the legacy of Tribung Pinoy in the new group even after Dolor’s death in 2018.

Without Dolor who could lavishly support Tribu, it is now incumbent on Ephesus Teatron Group to keep it afloat.

Limited audience

At the height of Tribung Pinoy’s popularity, their audience was loyal and nurturing—but limited in commercial terms. They could not sweep a broader spectrum of music aficionados (read: buyers), and Sweet factors this into her current efforts to reach a wider range of listeners and viewers.

The “high art” tag on classic or opera singers is a considerable burden. They are, more often than not, ignored by the local music industry which prefers young, even kitschy, crooners.

A lament aired by some Tribu members is that bookers, producers, and talent coordinators would choose or cast the more popular performers: “Mas kinukuha ang mas sikat kaysa amin,” Sweet said at the press launch of “Timeless Tribu.”

For the benefit of the uninformed, Tribu members are music educators experienced as teachers to the younger set of pop singers, whether high-profile or struggling, who may in fact bow to them in respect, recognition, or resignation.

Still, it’s not too late for Tribu to adjust their tack in achieving their goals. There are many options and experiments, like consultation with the public.

At the press launch, Sweet asked the members of the media what type of music, genre, or content Tribu could possibly interpret as a crowd-drawer.

I, for one, suggested that they breathe new life into pop icon Sylvia La Torre’s ditties, like “Kalesa” or “Luneta,” which were hits in her heyday.

As well, Sweet can include modern songs in their repertoire, to level up with the audience’s expectations. From operatic arias to simple, mass-appeal music, Tribu can adjust to please the market.

Is anyone suggesting rap? Well, why not, if they can swing it!

Read more: All that Jazz: The music lives here

The post Cultural group Tribu in the glitz of showbiz appeared first on CoverStory.

In my Philippine cinema report of 2023 for the 2024 “Made in Asia” book of the 28th Bucheon International Fantastic Film Festival in Bucheon City, South Korea, it is stated that 143 films were produced and exhibited last year in cinemas and other screening platforms.

The figure was provided by Wikipedia.com although there were other low-profile, less-publicized, small-budget movies (or series) not monitored from social media platforms, traditional screening means, and livestreaming apps—such as director-actor Vic Tiro’s “Ransom” (shown on YouTube and in community film showings at Trece Martires, Cavite); Gerry Jumawan’s “Da’Un ka Kayu (Leaf of Tree)” (screened at Cinematheque Davao); and Noriel Jarito’s revised “Huramentado” (shown in Noriel’s town in Pambujan, Northern Samar, before it was livestreamed at Prime and Tubi); and a lot more.

Not bad even if, comparatively, hundreds of local movies were made in the past, notably during the so-called golden age of Philippine cinema.

Sadly, the industry was in the doldrums in the millennium, especially towards the advent of the next decade. Worse, it slid down to the pit and went to the dogs during the Covid-19 pandemic.

It has bounced back in quantity in these post-pandemic days. Still, both observers and insiders say that it is in bad shape.

Revival of film festivals

But why then do film festivals abound and are being revived?

The Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival (a joint project of the Cinemalaya Foundation and the Cultural Center of the Philippines), the Quezon City International Film Festival, Cinemarehiyon, etc. have persisted, the pandemic notwithstanding.

The films shown in limited theaters in these festivals may not earn as well as those on the regular run of major outfits like Star Cinema, Viva Films, Regal Entertainment, etc., but they are palpable signs that Philippine cinema is alive and kicking.

Ronnie Lazaro, back onscreen after a five-year hiatus, is the 2024 Sinag Maynila Film Festival’s Best Actor for “The Gospel of the Beast.” Minutes before he went up the stage to receive his award, he said moviegoers should be brought back to the cinemas: “Kailangang ibalik sa mga sinehan ang mga manonood ng pelikula sa Pilipinas.” 

According to Lazaro, he was echoing the statement of filmmaker Jose “Joey” Javier Reyes, the chair of the Film Development Council of the Philippines.

Reyes himself said that in his capacity as a leader, he is bent on ensuring the return of the film industry to its former supremacy in the country and in the region.

He said he has not been participating in international film festivals—“gastos lang” (just more expenses)—and will just channel the funds to travel grants for filmmakers. “There are still many things that can be done for the local movie industry,” he said over cocktails during Sinag Manila’s awards night.

Reyes is pleased at Philippine cinema’s current progress. “At least, ‘Un Happy for You’ made money,” he happily announced. “Un Happy for You” is a Star Cinema production starring Joshua Garcia and Julia Barretto, aka “Joshlia.”

Why the flops?

What really ails the local film industry and why the flops despite the big number of homegrown releases?

Seven full-length features were entered in the 2024 Sinag Maynila Film Festival. Noticeably, there was no fixed schedule of all the films, long or short, but just a daily matrix in designated theaters in SM malls, Gateway, etc.—a supposed tactic to break the “first day-last day” syndrome, and to allow cinema exhibitors to know if a film was a moneymaker or a flop.

I asked Solar Entertainment general manager Butch Ybanez about the box-office figures of “Talahib,” one of the entries that won the Audience Choice Award. Has the film already earned millions? His answer was safe: “It’s consistent in its showing.”

In the Philippines, there are no official till receipts provided by an agency, public or private, but elsewhere in the world, the earnings of movies are available to the consumers.

Be that as it may, films are being produced. Why is Vivamax content sustained, and why does Viva Entertainment persist, with millions of subscribers all over the world?

We ask: Are Filipinos so sex-starved that there is a huge patronage of skin flicks shown online? (Sex cinema is a genre, after all.)

Are piracy, censorship, uneven distribution of foreign films vis a vis local bookings, colonial mentality, inferior quality branding, rehashed storylines, etc. the only causes of the dismal performances of Pinoy movies?

I got to talk with Roger Garcia, international film producer, festival organizer and advisor, critic and supporter of Asian cinema, on his assessment of Philippine cinema. At one point, I asked him why he excluded the Philippines from those Asian countries that he thinks have a promising future in filmmaking. He cited Indonesia and, to a certain extent, Vietnam, as having the upper hand in the film business these days.

Here’s Roger’s verbatim reply to my question: “The Philippine movie industry is, of course, active. I have to say, though, in some of the Filipino films I’ve seen, there is a certain similarity, and I think what’s important in a country’s film culture is diversity and novelty. I think that the novelty or the diversity that I saw in the Filipino cinema in the early 2000s tended to, like, decline, to say it quite frankly. I’d like to see some more energy in the Filipino film industry. Because if you don’t have that energy and diversity, then all the films will be flat.”

Armchair view

But there are other ways to skin the cat. What are the other determinants of a film’s success or failure?

An armchair view of a moviegoer’s mindset is in order:

Movies as entertainment is a world phenomenon. 

Like poetry, a film evokes emotions and feelings. I got this idea from the English poet William Wordsworth and from my late literature professor Ophelia Alcantara-Dimalanta, the poetess of “Amarantha,” who said that a poem at first reading must impart music and rhythm.

The sound of the words and the images that are shaped by them constitute the melody or lyricism of a poem. But rereading provides other dimensions, like meanings, reflections, lessons in life, etc.

Viewing a film, depending on the genre (in this age of diverse styles and thoughts), is like reading or speaking verses. Initially, the enjoyment is achieved through the colorful—even if black and white or sepia—scenes onscreen.

A purging of emotions—joy, fear, hate, sexual desire, thrill, amusement, etc.—is basically a movie’s intention. This is what common education tells us: that a movie is an amusement piece only, sans explanation or footnote. We take it in hook, line, and sinker. 

Or we are carried away by the gloss and magic onscreen. Anything foolish, or a shenanigan, we shrug off, primarily because it is just entertainment. Or the attraction of a fleeting relatability, a looking-glass self, even if the treatment is hollow.

Remember that the other general orientation of movie-watching is escape.

But what if the filmgoer has other expectations? Like the veracity of life in what is being watched. 

Art movements teach, assert, or simply evoke the idea that movies are not only entertainment but a didactic or inspirational medium as well, whether explicitly or subliminally.

Take J.E. Tiglao’s “Her Locket,” the Best Film at the 2024 Sinag Maynila Film Festival. Can it be a veracious mirror of the Chinese ethos, or a cross-cultural treatise on the Filipino-Chinese relationship, or a multilayered tapestry?

I’ve also watched Sheron Dayoc’s “The Gospel of the Beast.” Hopefully, the other five entries will have an extended run: “Talahib” by Alvin Yapan, “Maple Leaf Dreams” by Benedict Mique, “Salome” by Gutierrez Mangansajan II, “What You Did” by Joan Lopez Flores, and “Banjo” by Bryan Wong.

Read more: ‘What film can do more than what film can say’

The post Why the local film industry isn’t dying (or the return of the Sinag Maynila Film Festival) appeared first on CoverStory.

And there are still thoughts left unsaid.

Classified by a film buff as “The Best of Cinemalaya at UP Film Center,” the festival’s award-winning full-length entries like Best Film “Tumandok” (directed by Arlie Sweet Sumagaysay and Richard Jeroui Salvadico), Special Jury Prize “Alipato at Muog” (directed by JL Burgos), and Audience Choice Award “Gulay Lang, Manong” (directed by BC Amparado) will be shown on Aug. 24 and 31 at Cine Adarna, a venue hardly used anymore.

The other seven feature films are Kip Oebanda’s “Balota,” Lawrence Fajardo’s “The Hearing,” Julius Lumiqued’s “The Wedding Dance,” Joshua Caesar Medroso’s “Kantil,” Jaime Pacena II’s “Kono Bosho,” Jonathan Jurilla’s “Love Child” and Sarge Lacuesta’s “An Errand.” 

The 10 shorts are P.R. Monencillo Patindol’s “Abigbaybay,” Cris Bringas’ “All This Wasted Space,” Mariel Ritchie Jolejole and Ronino Dolim’s “An Baga sa Dalan (The Red Trails),” Sonny Calventos’ “Primetime Mother” (awarded Audience Choice and Best Screenplay), Sam Manacsa’s “Cross my Heart and Hope to Die” (awarded Best Film), Ryan Capili’s “I was Walking on the Streets of Chinatown,” Breech Asher Harani’s “Palamandong sa Danow” (awarded the Special Jury Prize), Alexandra Brizuela’s “Mama,” Rey Anthony Villaverde’s “Ambot Wa Ko Kabalo Unsay I-Title Ini” and Melanie Faye’s “Mariposa.” 

These films will still presumably find their respective audiences, in one way or another, and hit various screens around the country and internationally.

The other awards for the full-lengths are: Best Director, Jaime Pacena II (“Kono Bosho”); Best Actress, Marian Rivera (“Balota”) and Gabby Padilla (‘Kono Bosho”); Best Actor, Enzo Osorio (“the Hearing”); Best Supporting Actress, Sue Prado (“Kantil”); Best Supporting Actor, Felipe Ganancial (“Tumandok); Special Jury Prize (“Alipato at Muog”); Netpac (Network for the Promotion of Asian Cinema) Prize (“Tumandok)”; Best Sound Design (“An Errand”); Best Original Musical Score, (“Tumandok”); Best Production Design (“Kono Basho”); Best Editing (“An Errand”); and Best Cinematography (“Kono Basho”).

‘The Gospel of the Beast’

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of time to watch the entire official lineup of the 20th Cinemalaya. I hope I can still catch most of the movies that were lauded by the fest as some kind of rare harvest.

I have seen only this year’s opening film, “The Gospel of the Beast” directed by Sheron Dayoc, who returned to helming after a seven-year hiatus. The masterpiece on the “making/molding” of a young criminal gave its viewers goosebumps.

In the movie, the boy Mateo, portrayed by the award-winning Ilonggo Jansen Magpusao (the 2019 Cinemalaya Best Actor for Rod Arden Condez’s “John Denver Trending,” and now 17 years old), is an innocent-looking, loving brother. He is a short-tempered butcher in a slaughterhouse by night and a student by day, who runs away after hitting a classmate on the head with a stone and accidentally killing him in a bully discussion by the river.

Mateo clings to surrogate uncle Berto (played by Ronnie Lazaro), who introduces him to the underworld of hitmen and killers for hire. Slowly, the boy is transformed into a man of violence and extremism. 

Despite some loopholes in the presentation of the narrative, “The Gospel of the Beast” won accolades at the 2024 Ho Chi Minh International Film Festival in Vietnam and was screened at the Tokyo international Film Festival last year. As the opener of the 20^th Cinemalaya, one of the remaining film festivals in the country, it foreshadowed exciting viewing experiences in the days to come.

‘Lost Sabungeros’

It’s a shame for an entertainment journalist like myself to have missed much of the festival’s creme de la crème, especially considering that one had a media pass. Among the reasons for my absence was my teaching film and its related disciplines every Saturday and Sunday at Leon Guinto Memorial College in Atimonan, Quezon. My movie reporting—showbiz news writing and documentary filmmaking (shooting and chronicling the life of the Dumagat, the indigenous people of Real, Infanta and General Nakar, all in Quezon, and their protest actions against the construction of Kaliwa Dam)—also got in the way of my watching the Cinemalaya films.

But would I have made time to watch the documentary “Lost Sabungeros,” a foray into the disappearance of online cockfighters? Well, yes. Out of curiosity, I might have consciously and passionately pushed myself to view Babyruth Villarama’s latest work.

“Lost Sabungeros” was a joint project of the Cultural Center of the Philippines and Cinemalaya Foundation with Laurice Guillen as president and Tonyboy Cojuangco as chair. It was earlier selected and curated by Cinemalaya, which assigned a number of theaters for its run but eventually cancelled the showing at the last minute supposedly for security reasons.

Belatedly, the Directors Guild of the Philippines Inc. (DGPI), of which Guillen was one of the founders, raised concerns about the cancellation of the documentary. 

The DGPI through its president Mark Meily issued an official statement, saying: “We are deeply concerned by the intimidation tactics employed by parties that seek to stifle the voice of filmmakers. The recent disruption…is a stark reminder of the challenges faced by those who dare to challenge the entrenched through their art.” 

The DGPI called on all filmmakers and society at large to protect freedom of expression and the democratic space and to remain brave and resolute in their creative endeavors. “It is through the courage to confront uncomfortable truths and address societal issues that we contribute to a more informed and empathetic world,” it said.

The manifesto came late, but better late than never. Still, to create the impact that the case deserves—the missing cockfighters remain missing to this day—it should have been written and circulated immediately after the pullout of “Lost Sabungeros” from the Cinemalaya lineup.

Read more: ‘Mainstream’ star Marian Rivera to star in an indie for Cinemalaya

The post Thoughts on the 20th Cinemalaya appeared first on CoverStory.

The plan had been to film a sequel to “A Thousand Cuts,” Diaz’s documentary covering the disinformation and misinformation operations in the Philippines, which focused on the consequences for journalist Maria Ressa and the website Rappler against the backdrop of the 2019 senatorial elections. The film ended with the very real possibility that Ressa would be jailed and the news that for the first time in a very long time, not one opposition candidate was elected to the Philippine Senate. 

“They are meant to make you distrust institutions,” Ressa said of the aggressive and widespread strategic attacks online.  

When Diaz, who is based in the United States, arrived in the Philippines in 2021 to film the sequel, it so happened that the presidential campaign season was about to start and Robredo announced that she would seek the presidency. Many will recall the then vice president’s words, that she was a mother not only to her three children but also to the nation: “Nanay ako, hindi lang ng tatlong anak ko, kundi ng buong bansa.”

Kakampink

“And So It Begins” opens with a sweeping montage of a Kakampink rally as the campaign reached a fever pitch, and many, many other scenes from the campaign. Viewers who were in any way part of the Pink Movement will surely feel nostalgic, with songs by Nica del Rosario playing in the background.

The antagonist is the same in the first and second films and rears his head more than a few times. But aside from former president Rodrigo Duterte, the culture of silence and complacency that was complicit in the misogyny and bullying and that was amplified in and permeated Filipino life is the common backdrop of the two films.

At the premiere, Robredo confessed that the working title of the film was “This is How it Ends.” (Lines from “The Hollow Men,” T.S. Eliot’s poem, “This is the way the world ends…Not with a bang but a whimper,” come to mind.) Eventually, however, Diaz thought of “And So It Begins,” and Robredo agreed it was a more appropriate title.

In literature, the term “dramatic” irony is used to describe the situation in which we find ourselves—as Filipinos who watched the parallel events of Ressa and Rappler, and Robredo and the Pink Movement—knowing how the stories end. How do you stay riveted and engaged when you know that Robredo loses the presidential election? 

But Robredo believes that there was no defeat, that all efforts did not go to waste, that in the end, as she hoped, everyone will stand committed to fight for love and country. As she put it: “Hindi tayo natalo kasi we started something really special: the movement that started during the campaign. Hindi nasayang yung efforts… Naging klaro during the campaign kung ano yung role ko: community organizing. Yung pag-asa sa puso ko na kapag kinailangan ng panahon, nandiyan kayo, handang lumaban para sa bayan. Yun yung radical love.” 

The day after Robredo stepped down as vice president, she did just as she promised. She established Angat Buhay Foundation, building on the momentum that led millions of Filipinos all over the Philippines and the world to practice bayanihan, to volunteer whenever and wherever necessary.

This was activated broadly just recently. The organic, instantaneous mobilization of resources to respond to those displaced by the widespread flooding caused by the monsoon and exacerbated by typhoon “Carina” was well-organized, and no one had to take a microphone to tell volunteers what to do. A true grassroots movement. 

Momentous day

Depending on how you view it, it was either coincidental or providential that the Philippine premiere of “And So It Begins” was held last Aug. 9, the same day that the Court of Appeals issued its decision voiding the 2018 shutdown order on Rappler by the Securities and Exchange Commission. 

Ressa and Rappler figure prominently in the film, from the continuing attacks and harassment online and in-person to the announcement and awarding of Ressa as Nobel laureate (along with Russian journalist Dmitry Muratov), from her raw and teary-eyed reaction to finding out the news documented during an online forum of and for Southeast Asian journalists to the persistent attacks on Rappler staff members, and finally, to her speech during the awarding ceremonies in Oslo. 

I am glad that Diaz has chosen to continue to train her director’s eye on women who fight in many ways, at great personal cost, in behalf of our rights. The film is not only about Robredo and Ressa but also about Filipinos—some of them named but so many more unnamed. In all of the scenes, these women, whether in person or virtually, are communicating and reaching out to other people, other Filipinos, on behalf of Filipinos. Their struggles are not theirs alone. They and this movie prove that, indeed, the personal is political.

“And So It Begins” opens on Aug. 21 at Cinema 76, Powerplant Makati, Gateway Cineplex, Shang Red Carpet, Sta. Lucia, Screenville Alturas Bohol, Gaisano Davao, and NCCC Davao. Contact [email protected] to arrange for block screening.

Read more: ‘What film can do more than what film can say’

The post The personal is political in ‘And So It Begins’ appeared first on CoverStory.

It is both a compilation and a yearly business conference of like-minded individuals tackling the market trends in at least 14 filmmaking capitals in Asia—China, South Korea, Hong Kong, Japan, Indonesia, Malaysia, Taiwan, Singapore, India, Thailand, Vietnam, Mongolia, Kyrgyzstan and the Philippines.

It was conceptualized and became a reality at the Bucheon International Film Festival (Bifan) in Bucheon City, South Korea, by the event’s bigwigs in 2008 as part of the Network of Asian Fantastic Films (NAFF), a component of Asia’s largest, most advanced, and game-changing world cinema event.

According to the Bifan website, “Made in Asia” was “designed to examine the key factors of the Asian film industry which overtook Hollywood and became the world’s largest film market, and to develop and strengthen the network.” The NAFF is the market program that promotes cooperation and assistance to film projects that enhance the genre (horror, fantasy, sci-fi, thriller, supernatural and the like) movement.

Noncompetitive festival

Bifan is a noncompetitive festival that focuses on the conceptualization, production, marketing, showing and recognition of fantastic films presented or shown in its duration, usually in July or August.

In past Bifans, the “Made in Asia” forums featured three or four panelists and speakers on the film industry in their respective countries. 

I have been officially part of “Made in Asia” since 2017, when I was assigned to write the annual Philippine cinema report that requires research on the domestic sales of local and international films. My work includes summing up the narrative of the economic, cultural and, to a certain extent, sociopolitical landscapes of the yearly Philippine cinema, and interviewing the producer or director of the top-grossing film.

At the 28th Bifan held recently at the Webtoon Convergence Center in Bucheon, the forum featured seven actors and interactors discussing co-production case studies in filmmaking. Each speaker was given five minutes to report on the state of co-production ventures with homegrown or international stakeholders.

The exchange of ideas and experiences in the 2024 “Made in Asia” on co-ventures was an eye-opener—an enlightening moment of discovery and rediscovery about the prospects and processes of filmmaking.

Co-prods

As the term suggests, co-production is the arrangement between one or two or more investments that eases and balances the flow of creative as well as administrative work in the movie business.

Co-prod comes easily at the NAFF, with business meetings and implementations of the principles and work flow between and among capitalists.

At the “It Project,” a section of the NAFF in which competitively and rigorously selected film projects in development on genre are on board, worldwide notice of their potentials in box-office and critical acclaim is encouraged.

During the 28th Bifan’s “It Project,” several co-prods of chosen entries were set up for meetings with international investors, producers, marketers, distributors, press and other film professionals for possible tie-ups.

Among the 23 projects were:

• Malaysia, Singapore, Japan and the United States’ “Bomoh,” directed by Miyazaki Daisuke and co-produced by Alex Iskounen, Tim Kwok (one of the producers of Jackie Chan), Jeffrey Reddick and Ho Wee Tay of the collective Asia Media Alliance/Tsukubu Indy and Convergence Entertainment.

• Singapore, Indonesia and the Philippines’ “The Drought,” directed by Nelson Yeo and produced by Tan Si En and Sophia Lim in a three-pronged company (Momo Films, Kawakawa Media and Nathan Films, a Filipino outfit owned by actress Ria Atayde).

• Italy, Singapore and the Philippines’ “Molder,” directed by Filipino Kenneth Dagatan and co-produced by Malaysian Bradley Liew (husband of Filipino filmmaker Bianca Balbuena) of Epicmedia Productions, Stefano Centini of Volos Films Italy and Hwang Junxiang of Dropkick.

Meanwhile, at the regular screenings of this year’s Bifan, aside from the solo prods from Korea and other nations, there were co-prods such as, among others, Germany, the United States and Norway’s “Cuckoo,” directed by Tilman Singer and shown at the Bucheon Choice: Features; China and the Netherlands’ “And I Talk Like a River” directed by Qian Ning and screened at the Bucheon Choice: Shorts; and Japan and Hong Kong’s “Matched.”” directed by Uchida Eiji and lined up at the Mad MaxX section.

The opening film was the United Kingdom and the United States’ co-prod “Love Lies Bleeding” (2024), which is about ill-fated lovers involved in violent encounters. It was directed by Rose Glass (“Saint Maud”) and starred Kristen Stewart, Ed Harris, Katy O’Brian and Anna Barysknikov. 

The closing film was Hong Kong and China’s “Twilight of the Warrior: Walled In” (2024), a release featured at the 77th Cannes International Film Festival, which is a foray into gang wars in the bloody era of Kowloon in the ’90s and directed by Soi Cheang.

But descriptive co-prod companies, mostly in film festivals, are generally classified and nominalized under their country of origin, purportedly to promote an international sense.

Perils and kinks

Despite the supportive essence of co-prod, there are also perils and kinks in the arrangement.

While most of the panelists at the recent “Made in Asia”—Taiwanese Cora Yim, executive director and producer of S11 Partners Inc.; Indonesian  Shanty C. Harmyan, producer of Base Entertainment; Malaysian Lorna Tee, producer of Paperheart Productions; Singaporean Tan Si En, producer of Momo Films; Frenchman Emmanuel Pisarra, director of the Office of Uni-France in Japan; and Andy Wang, vice president of Investments of Assistance Hill Media Finance in the United Kingdom and the United States; with Variety Asia editor Patrick Frater as the facilitator—were openly, decidedly and liberally involved in co-prods, there were still gray areas and problems they wanted to clear and hurdle.

Most of them emphatically admitted that filmmaking these days in Asia or worldwide, specifically from their direct experiences, is generally a gamble if not a declining business because of many factors. They cited dwindling numbers of cinema-goers and the threat posed by livestreaming platforms, especially during the Covid-19 pandemic (with the exception of Indonesia, where, according to Harmyan, MNC Media producer Emilka and internationally acclaimed film producer and critic Roger Garcia, cinema-going is burgeoning), and other causes that are geopolitical in nature although not fully articulated.

Censorship

According to Tee, censorship is one of the setbacks in the development of co-prods in Asia and in the world. She cited the case of the film “Viet and Nam” (2024) directed by Truong Nga Nguyen, which should have been a co-venture among countries, allegedly including Vietnam, that believed in the power of its story and its potential as a box-office and critical hit.

But the Vietnamese government banned the story and, eventually, its showing. “They said it didn’t reflect the real situation of Vietnam, so it has to change its production identity to Filipino,” said Tee.

“Viet and Nam” was produced by Bradley Liew and Bianca Balbuena, and exhibited at the Un Certain Regard section of the 77th Cannes International Film Festival. It was a co-prod of the Philippines, Switzerland and, per imbd, Vietnam.

Box-office hit “Tiger Stripes” (2023) was cited as another case in point. A co-prod of Malaysia, Taiwan, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Singapore, Qatar and Indonesia, and directed by Malaysian Amanda Nell Eu, the film was said to have been censored by a Malaysian state apparatus.

And while it is true that there are investments coming in from producers from China, the prevailing political atmosphere under President Xi Jinping is allegedly unfavorable to film co-prod, especially in other Asian countries.

“China doesn’t want their money coming out. What they want is money coming in,” Tee said.

South Korea’s independent producer Lee Dong-ha said a co-prod with China is somewhat a tricky business. He said a Chinese film company once joined him in a production but the project was eventually derailed and was no longer pursued. 

The panel expressed optimism about co-prods with Middle Eastern countries like the United Arab Emirates. Oil money, they seemed to agree, is the quick way toward getting film funds in the nearest future.

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