The Resistance of Philippine Cinema
written by Prometheus Brown
We love being Filipino. We love films. So why don’t we love Filipino films?
For many, the combination of the words “Filipino” and “Film” evokes low-budget melodrama and corniness from directors recycling the same five fair-skinned actors while trying, and failing, to emulate Hollywood. A quick glance at the DVD shelves of the local Pinoy video store (if it hasn’t closed and re-opened as a remittance business yet) and this stereotype seems justified.
But if you dig a little deeper, you’ll find a whole heap of gold hidden beneath the basura. Unbeknownst to many of us, there’s a rich history of quality cinema that stretches back to the beginning of the 20th century. Filmmakers and films with sharp socio-political awareness, beautifully-shot photography, masterful acting, and, most of all: people who look like us, talk like us, share much our family history and experiences.
Through the years, Filipino filmmakers have adapted with the same spirit that drove us to make Jeepneys out of war scraps. Under strict government censorship and with little resources (the average Filipino film is made for under $40,000, compared to tens of millions for a Hollywood flick), filmmakers were forced to become alchemists, creatively finding ways to say things without saying it too loudly.
There’s the country’s most prolific and renowned director Lino Brocka, whose filmography includes gripping neo-realist inspired dramas like Insiang (1975) and Maynila: Sa Mga Kuko Ng Liwanag (1975). Outside of the mainstream film industry, Kidlat Tahimik’s first two films, Perfumed Nightmare (1977) and Turumba (1982) employ a unique narrative style far different from any other Filipino films, past or present. Directors like Gerardo De Leon (1940s – 1970s), Lamberto Avellana, Mike De Leon, Ishmael Bernal, Raymond Red, Laurice Guillen, (to name a very few) and writers such as Jose “Pete” Lacaba (brother of slain revolutionary writer Emman Lacaba) and Ricardo Lee all deserve ten times the praise they’ve gotten for their work.
Growing up in the 80s in Hawaii and California, I was perhaps too young to appreciate older Filipino movies, some which litter mom’s and pop’s betamax collection (and yours too – I’ve seen those stacks hidden behind the “legit” tapes). Only recently have I decided to make the effort to find the diamonds in the shitstorm after watching Lino Brocka’s Orapronobis. With many of these films difficult to find, I wish I would’ve started this mission earlier.
Plus, contemporary Filipino cinema is on the come up. There’s current wave of fresh and innovative digital films from a core of young independent filmmakers on both sides of the Pacific, like Lav Diaz, Auraeus Solito, John Torres, and Raya Martin. Recently, Solito’s Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros. Lav Diaz’s most recent film Melancholia (2008), clocks in at 8 hours, longer than his Batang West Side (4 hours) and less than Ebolusyonaryo ng Isang Pamilyang Pilipino (10 hours).
I’m no expert on Filipino films. Just sharing what I know, hoping to hip some of you to something you’re missing out on, and maybe get schooled by those more knowledgeable. Start more conversations about our films, our politics, our cheesy sense of humor. Debate the merits of melodrama. Maybe, with enough demand, some previously unavailable films may find the light of day. Build up support and interest for our fellow Filipino filmmakers, especially independent ones, and end, once and for all, the false assumption that our movies suck. Or, worse, that we don’t even care.
Film blogs dedicated to Philippine Cinema:
- Prometheus Brown (My own)
- Critic After Dark by Noel Vera
- Lessons From the School of Inattention by Oggs Cruz
- Video 48
Links to articles on Philippine cinema:
Filipino Movie DVDs & VHS online:
