Cinematic

My earliest memory of a cinema had nothing to do with the films.

I was around four or five and feverish, so nanay (grandma) took me to a movie house to see Mang Pepe. There were two Mang Pepe’s (Mr. Pepe) in our barangay (village)—one was a barber, and the other was a “manghihilot” (a folk healer). We were, of course, looking for the latter. Back then, there weren’t really many malls, and most cinemas, if not all, were independent establishments. It was a hazy morning when nanay and I arrived at the local movie house along Boni Avenue in Mandaluyong City. I remember being in awe of the large, gaping entrance with a large staircase going up to the cinemas. Hand-painted movie posters with larger-than-life impressions of the actors filled the walls. Below the staircase was where the people would line up for popcorn and drinks. In the corner to its right was where we found Mang Pepe, the security guard-slash-manghihilot, still in his white sando and brown slacks, reading the morning paper.

Hilot, for those who don’t know or can’t remember, is a folk healing practice that involves a certain kind of massage that, on the surface, looks like some sort of chiropractic treatment. But hilot is more than just a kind of massage. The manghihilot would usually start by feeling the pulse of the patient, trying to find all the physical and spiritual imbalances within the body. These imbalances, Mang Pepe would explain, manifest themselves in muscle tensions. After a minute or so, Mang Pepe seemed to have found what he was looking for. He pressed my pulse a little bit harder with his left hand, while he moved his thick-framed glasses with his right pointing finger. A couple of seconds later he let go of my little arm, took a sip of his coffee, and told nanay without looking: “Malikot itong apo mo, ano? Mukhang laging nasa labas.” (This little boy is quite active and energetic. It seems like he’s always playing outside.)

Mang Pepe located the area of imbalance between my neck and my right shoulder. He had this special kind of oil with a distinct herbal fragrance that he applied to the affected area. He went about moving my arms in certain directions, then rotating my little arm like a lever before pulling it with force. He pulled my arm so hard that I heard it crack. Dude had no chill. It hurt so bad that I cried. “Okay na. Naipitan ‘to ng ugat.” (Your boy pinched a nerve. But all is well now.) He gave nanay some sort of “anting-anting” (a charm) that looked like little crystals that we should place under my pillow. It will help me recover faster, according to Mang Pepe. He also told me to go to Mass the following Sunday to thank God for my healing. We didn’t watch any movies that day. I guess we didn’t have the money for it, and besides, I was ill. But nonetheless, the trip was nothing short of cinematic. It’s a memory that I’ll forever cherish.

That little trip to the movie house was probably the last time I saw Mang Pepe. The following years, my mom insisted that nanay bring me to a doctor instead whenever I get sick. Luckily, we had a neighborhood doctor whose friends with our family, which meant most consultations were free. Nanay would still occasionally bring me to other traditional healers like the local mangtatawas (another folk healer), when I exhibit unexplainable symptoms. The diagnoses would vary. Sometimes, the source of my illness, according to the mangtatawas, was the wrath of an elemental I accidentally stepped on while playing. Sometimes, it was because of an old entity who thought I was too cute. Sometimes, it was because of a relative who accidentally gave an “usog” or some form of hex just because they greeted me and forgot to mark my tummy with a cross using their saliva-moistened finger. Whatever it was, the unique blend of science and folk medicine seemed to have worked on me as I became healthier as I grew up.

Last week, I woke up to a city with little to no traces of mangtatawas and manghihilots.

Movie houses have been devoured by monstrous malls and commercial districts eating up the majority of Metro Manila. Nanay and tatay were gone. Fortunately, my other set of grandparents (from my father’s side) are still alive and still sometimes fighting over the littlest things. To give them a fun time (and so they can flaunt their discount cards), my senior citizen parents decided that we go watch a movie during the holidays. We were looking at the roster of movies for this year’s Metro Manila Film Festival and they decided to go with the Vic Sotto starrer “The Kingdom” since all of them are die-hard fans of the noontime show Eat Bulaga. The film promises a different Vic Sotto this time, a more controlled and dramatic performance alongside high-caliber actors like Piolo Pascual. But having watched a thousand installments of Enteng Kabisotes in my life, I had low expectations. The premise of the movie was interesting, though: “What if the lands of our ancestors were never colonized?” Will we have licensed manghihilots and mangtatawas as doctors? Will we have kumadronas (folk mid-wife) as OB-GYNs instead? We were about to see.

Spoiler alert, “The Kingdom” opens with a scene that touches on current events, a group of local fishermen being bullied on their own seas by foreign military vessels. When the foreigners were about to shoot them, a bigger naval vessel appeared bearing the flag of the Kingdom Kalayaan (Freedom Kingdom), chasing away the bullies. There was a whisper of oohs and aahs in the cinema as the scene obviously hit a sweet spot among its target audience. The first act, which I thought took too long, was all about world-building with the exception of a scene where the king, Lakan Makisig (Vic Sotto), had to execute a criminal which is likely a setup for his relationship with the outcast Sulo (Piolo Pascual). The film really took time to try to explain what the Philippines could’ve been if it wasn’t colonized. There was even a scene where a foreign press had to interview the Lakan about the impending marriage of his daughter, the princess, Dayang Lualhati (Sue Ramirez), to a Thai prince. The foreign host even had to spell it out—how the Kingdom of Kalayaan was a strong nation that resisted colonial rule. In this montage of world-building scenes, the film also took the time to establish the different attitudes of the Lakan’s children. Dayang Matimyas (Cristine Reyes), a single mother to a young boy, was framed to be more empathetic to the people but aloof with the King. The prince, Magat Bagwis (Sid Lucero), looked like a spoiled rich kid who grew up to be a bit of a short-tempered a-hole. Honestly, most of the first part could’ve been cut and the film would still stand on its own. The film could’ve shown us what Kalayaan is through the relationship between the characters and their land instead of hurriedly telling us in a fan service montage.

So, what’s Kalayaan like? Well, for one, a monarchy with a formidable military might ruled the kingdom. But it was a bit modern in a sense that it featured tiny bits of democracy, like protests. Despite its relative modernity, Kalayaan still bears a strong influence from its indigenous roots. The king, for instance, continues to heed the advice of a babaylan (head priestess) who uses folk practices to see the future, a political manghihilot or mangtatawas of sorts. There was also a Congress, but it wasn’t made clear if the lawmakers were elected or selected by the king. There were also armed rebels, but the film wasn’t all too detailed about what exactly they were fighting for. The movie captures a time of transition within Kalayaan. The king must choose a successor to the throne among his children. Dayang Lualhati couldn’t be the one as she was going to stay in Thailand for good after the agreed marriage. Dayang Matimyas seemed to have a heart for the rebels’ cause which estranged her from her father. The hot-headed Magat Bagwis, despite having fascist tendencies, seemed to be the only choice of Lakan Makisig. These family relations would be the catalyst that drives the plot to its ultimate end.

“The Kingdom” felt like an ambitious project lost in the eagerness to court commercial success. It tried to tell the story of an uncolonized Philippines through the strained relations of the ruling family. But in the pursuit of answering a major Filipino what if, the movie got confused about what specific story of that possible reality it wanted to tell. There were instances when “The Kingdom” wanted to dive into injustices by adding rebels and outcasts in the mix only to lose momentum to vague generalizations. The rebels were reduced to just your usual rebels who want “equality”. The outcasts were reduced to just people who irked the king. I mean, if it really wanted to, the movie could’ve explored why this alternative reality isn’t working as we hoped it would—why a monarch is bound to be the same as today’s political dynasties, why despite the military might the king needed to sacrifice her daughter to an arranged marriage with foreign powers, or why even the princess developed a heart for the rebellion. Instead, we got a fight scene between the king and the outcast just for tradition’s sake. Instead, we got a mid-credits scene where the princess, who was revealed to have worked with the rebels so she could take the throne, was reduced wot what looked like a mad ambitious villain.

Overall, “The Kingdom” needed focus and balls to make a stance. Is this alternate reality better or not? What is better if not? The diluted plotlines and half-baked world-building would’ve been addressed if it was rolled out as a multi-season series. (I was later on informed that the original plan was for this concept to be a series). If anyone is asking, yes, Vic Sotto did a good job in a serious role. The other actors, for me, were great too. The soundtrack, I thought, was fire, but the scoring, not so much. The set was wonderful and the visual effects, I guess, could use a little more refinement. I mean, I have so many thoughts about this film, technical and otherwise, but I believe the critics will do a better job deconstructing the film. And I know I had low expectations, but for such an ambitious movie with a mass audience, I think it bears the responsibility of generating a discourse that can move the needle, especially now that the real, colonized version of Kalayaan is about to elect a new set of lawmakers from a pool of candidates that mostly come from problematic and corrupt political families. Sure, it did give a sense of pride to the audience who actually liked the movie (because it is, by Enteng Kabisote standards, a really good movie). But let’s admit it, in our archipelagic kingdom of malls and condominiums, we need more than a sense of national pride, right?

“The Kingdom” tried to hammer home an alternative history over two long hours.

But “Green Bones” quietly delivered a multi-layered story in just ninety minutes. Spoiler alert, the movie started with a monologue about the folk belief that when a good person dies, you will find remnants of a green bone after his cremation. It then asks an innocent question, are there really good people in the world? Are there people with green bones? It then transitions to the sequence that tells how petty thief Domingo Zamora alias “Dom Saltik” (Dennis Trillo) supposedly murdered his sister (Iza Calzado) and ended up in jail. It was followed by the arrival of an overzealous prison guard, Xavier Gonzaga (Ruru Madrid), in the penal farm where Zamora was incarcerated. Gonzaga was happy to finally become a prison guard as this was one of the ways he felt he could get justice for the murder of his sister when they were young. It had been a decade since Zamora was jailed and he was about to get paroled for good conduct. Gonzaga was told by his superintendent (Michael De Mesa) that Zamora had been good, and the reform-centered philosophy of the penal farm seemed to have changed a lot of prisoners there for the better. But Gonzaga couldn’t believe it. Blinded by a personal vendetta against murderers, he became suspicious of Zamora who, since his incarceration, had become mute.

Through thorough investigation, he did uncover Zamora’s escape plot, but he also discovered, albeit too late, that it was because Zamora was a target of hired killers. It turned out that Zamora was innocent. It was implied that the partner of his sister (Victor Neri), a syndicate leader, had a hand in the murder. Zamora was even instrumental in the escape of his mute niece during the night of the murder with the help of his friend Betty (Alessandra De Rossi). Zamora had to admit the crime just because it was safer for him to be in jail than being hunted on the streets by the real perpetrators of the crime. Gonzaga would also later on learn that his superintendent and senior colleague (Wendell Ramas) were the ones arranging for Zamora’s assassination. Zamora was so determined to get out of jail alive because he promised his beloved niece that he would come back for her. But no thanks to Gonzaga’s reckless judgments and hasty actions, Zamora eventually got killed by the people who arranged for his death. But not before fulfilling his promise to see his now-teenager niece (Sofia Pablo) once last time. In the end, the prison reformed the prison guard, as Gonzaga’s black-and-white idea of justice changed into a more humane perspective. He apologized to both Sofia and Betty and vowed to help them whenever he could. Sofia, who was about the leave their place forgave him and even called him uncle.

The film, in such a short period, was able to show (a) what it would look like if our prison system aimed for rehabilitation instead of punishment, (b) the deeply rooted corruption within our justice and penal system, (c) the redeemable nature of human beings when placed in the right environment and surrounded by the right people. All these themes were properly represented through the script. I remember Gonzaga asking his superintendent, why the heck are they letting “reformed” murders run free while he couldn’t even get justice for his murdered sister. When the former chief of the jail (Nonie Buencamino) offered his help to Zamora, he told him that he can earn his freedom inside the jail and the more important question is, “Kung anong klaseng tao ang lalabas sa kabilang dulo.” (What kind of person will emerge on the other side of freedom.) There were introspective monologues from Gonzaga, asking himself, “Puwede bang tubuan ng kabutihan ang taong nagkasala?” (Can goodness grow out of a person who has taken a wrong turn?) I was asking myself how this script could be so good. When the credits rolled up, the answer emerged—national artist Ricky Lee was involved with the screenplay.

The main themes of “Green Bones”—justice and redemption—are universal abstractions that are personal to me. Our extended family had members who weren’t strangers to crime. I had an uncle who murdered another uncle because of jealousy—a crime of passion. He served his sentence for decades before coming out and living with us again. Another uncle of ours, the one who kinda introduced me to punk and rock, was framed for drug possession. He spent 12 years in jail. The husband of my cousin was also jailed for drug pushing. He spent around seven years in prison. A close cousin, meanwhile, was a robber who took wallets from jeepney passengers. He served for around nine years. It was easy to hate them, especially because some of them really did horrible things. They deserved what they got for sure. But what irks me the most is that some of these people were really just petty criminals in the grand scheme of things. The biggest thieves and murderers are mostly the ones running our country, so addicted to power that they wouldn’t mind killing to stay on top. At least our relatives were able to change after they served their sentences. Despite the lack of humanity in our penal system, they were able to resist becoming animals. I bet they have more green bones than those who promise a better tomorrow every damn election. Let the devil burn them and you’ll see.

Does art imitate life or is it the other way around?

One thing’s for sure—they are inevitably intertwined, shaping each other in a constant loop of transformation. And I’m glad that after a long while, we are seeing more mainstream films that are trying to say something about the reality we live in—films that are trying to move us or change the way we see the status quo. Was this the effect of having a blood-thirsty demagogue as president? Was this a reaction to the prevailing culture of impunity that’s been slowly and steadily stripping us of hope for a better life? Whatever it is, I say we need more, and we need sharper ones—those that can give us the courage to question the forces that keep us dumb and helpless.

Personally, I don’t even think it’s a problem if it is the only problem at all. We have brave and great filmmakers who can do these kinds of movies for the masses. The root of the problem is that cinema has become an industry coopted by corporate and political interests. You just need to see the senatorial candidates handing our trophies during the recent award night of the Metro Manila Film Festival and you’ll know. Go back a bit further and you’ll realize that we’ve eaten more Enteng Kabisote and Vice Ganda films than we could because they generate profit. And this framework isn’t even over—not all of the MMFF entries this year are shown in every cinema. Some of the smaller films were missing from several malls. But I bet every damn cinema has the Vic Sotto and Vice Ganda entries. Why? Because they generate profits. The filmmaking scene itself, as with a lot of the other art scenes in the country, has been plagued by a padrino system that continues to reward the well-connected at the expense of marginalized voices and diverse perspectives. Combine all of these and the result is the alienation and abuse of the film industry workers. I mean, how often do you see a camera operator get rich, right? After all those sleepless nights of shooting, what they get is something just enough to ferry them through the worsening living conditions.

But how can we expect people to watch more movies when the tickets are just so damn expensive. If going to a movie meant paying more than half of my daily wage, I’d rather spend it on food. And it’s true for most people today. I mean, I went to see Green Bones at the expense of lunch. While we need sharper films, we also need more moviegoers. We’ve seen the numbers increase a bit in the past couple of years, but it may not be significant enough to motivate more producers to create more films. How can you expect it to go down when mall owners continue to take a significant portion of ticket revenues from the movies? In the end, cinema has just become another business and us, just a target market. What do we do? We all know what to do. Most of us just couldn’t because we know that the solution—the one that really changes things—is always, always radical.