The “Cinemalaya” sign is displayed above the crowd that has gathered at the lobby of the Cultural Center of the Philippines’s Tanghalang Nicanor Abelardo after the screening of a film in competition. ALVIN I. DACANAY

Broken surface: Thoughts on the 12th Cinemalaya

Alvin Dacanay Before I ForgetFirst of three parts

After a one-year absence, full-length feature films returned to the competition section of the Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival, which, on its 12th year, has become the granddaddy of all indie-film festivals in the country.

For nine days at the Cultural Center of the Philippines and Ayala Mall cinemas in Metro Manila and Cebu City, movie lovers were treated to nine features that tackle themes of family, history, and identity.

Much has been said on websites and social media about the films, and I’m sure much time will be spent arguing on who should have won the festival’s much-desired Balanghai trophies. There appears to be little argument, though, over how this year’s Cinemalaya fared: it has more misses than a village-wide beauty pageant.

One of them is Inna Salazar Acuña and Dos Ocampo’s Ang Bagong Pamilya ni Ponching (Ponching’s New Family), about a mild-mannered petty criminal (Janus del Prado) who meets, and is gradually accepted, by a wealthy family after one of its members falls for a text scam he perpetrated. For a film described as a comedy, Ponching is as delightful as last weekend’s monsoon rains, thanks, in part, to its sense of timing—a crucial element in the genre—which is as solid as water.

Another is Atom Magadia’s Dagsin (Gravity), which focuses on a suicidal retired judge (Tommy Abuel) who, prompted by his discovery and reading of his beloved late wife’s diaries, reminisces about his prewar romance with his future spouse and his brutal wartime experience.

I have to give Magadia props for staying true to the film’s title: Dagsin never soars, keeps things weighed down with its utter seriousness (the amusingly—and annoyingly—stubborn use of English in the flashback scenes notwithstanding). If that’s not enough, there’s Abuel, an actor who probably embodies “gravity” in all senses of the word (maybe that’s the reason he was cast?), who delivers a typically consummate performance as himself.

There’s also Cinemalaya veteran Vic Acedillo Jr.’s Lando at (and) Bugoy, which tells the real-life story of a 40-year-old tombstone carver and high-school dropout (Allen Dizon) in lovely Camiguin province who, on a dare made with his rebellious teenage son (Gold Azeron), returns to school and becomes classmates with him. Those who saw Lando at Bugoy may have mixed feelings about it, but not me: it’s probably the most effective, inspiring, and pro-education 85-minute commercial that the Department of Education would love to show to public schools across the country.

Funereal

Of this year’s entries, I was most excited about Ralston Jover’s Hiblang Abo (Strands of Gray), adapted from the late, great Rene O. Villanueva’s prize-winning 1980 full-length play of the same title. It focuses on four elderly men (Lou Veloso, Nanding Josef, Leo Rialp, and Jun Urbano) in a senior citizen’s home, each grappling with painful memories, regrets, and the inevitability of death.

If there’s a word that best describes this film, it’s probably funereal. Hiblang Abo almost proceeds like a wake: it demands respect and attention in listening to details of the rich, interesting, and sad lives the dead led, but the expected chatter can lull the uninterested to sleep. Clearly the leads—all admired stage veterans—are the best thing about the film; their commitment to their roles, if not their performances, shine through the gloom.

In comparison to Hiblang Abo, Ivan Andrew Payawal’s I America is almost like a party, at the center of which is 27-year-old half-Filipino, half-American commercial model Erica Berry (Bela Padilla), who encounters serious obstacles to her goal of joining her ex-serviceman father in the United States.

Also like a party, this film is peopled by an eclectic mix of characters—some compelling (Erica’s younger sister, the father); others, less so (half of Erica’s Amerasian friends)—and unfolds in unexpected—and sometimes distracting—ways. In a way, I America is like the contestants on the American TV show The Biggest Loser: overweight and in need of shedding fat.

Next week: Kusina and Mercury is Mine.

To be continued next week

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