A film for this election season

Early this month, Sen. Grace Poe-Llamanzares urged public schools to hold screenings of historical films, such as the award-winning Bonifacio: Ang Unang Pangulo and the blockbuster Heneral Luna, for their students and initiate meaningful discussions on these biopics with them.

“A lot of significant historical films have been produced in the past; I encourage our teachers to take advantage of these movies to help the youth understand and appreciate Philippine history,” Poe-Llamanzares, a former chief of the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board, said in a statement released by the Senate.

“We have intelligent and talented filmmakers who share our desire to educate the youth. I’m sure they would be more than willing to help in whatever way they can. It is, after all, an investment in the future of our country,” added the legislator, who filed last week her candidacy for president in next year’s national elections.

While I commend Poe-Llamanzares for suggesting this, given that the election-campaign season has already started, and in the wake of the political circus that besieged the Commission on Elections’ headquarters in Intramuros last week, I can’t think of a better, more relevant film for students—and, more important, their parents—to watch right now than Chito S. Roño’s grossly underrated Badil.

First shown during the Film Development Council of the Philippines’ (FDCP) Sineng Pambansa National Film Fesitval: All-Masters Edition in 2013, Badil is a taut, compelling thriller set in an isolated fishing village in Samar province that masterfully examines how elections really operate on the barangay level.

The film—which takes place on the eve of an election—not only shows vote-buying and patronage politics at work, but also how Filipinos’ deep sense of utang na loob (debt of gratitude) and of family honor are exploited to screw them come election day. It shows how flawed our electoral system really is.

Like many excellent independent films that debuted at festivals, Badil is yet to be shown in commercial cinemas—a fact that was not lost on award-winning creative writer Jessica Zafra. She recently asked on her blog, in a post titled “’Badil’ is everything we need to know about Philippine elections. Why isn’t it showing?”: “Why was the movie even made if we cannot get to watch it now, when it could not be more relevant?”

Why, indeed.

Heneral Luna is fortunate that it got to be screened—got a regular run—at cineplexes and resonated with many Filipinos from all walks of life. I believe Badil deserves the same chance—and the rapturous reception—the hit biopic got.

Strong theater season, part 2
In my previous column, I wrote that it was wonderful to see that Philippine theater companies seem to be having another strong season this year, judging by the productions that have opened in Metro Manila in the last few weeks. This is not only true of professional theater organizations, but also of university-based ones. This should only mean better things for the theater community.

Last week, I watched the latest productions of two of those school-based groups, both admired: R.U.R. (Robot Unibersal ni Rossum) of Tanghalang Ateneo and King Lear/Haring Lear of Dulaang Unibersidad ng Pilipinas (Dulaang UP).

The former—written by Czech playwright Karel Capek in 1920 and translated into Filipino by Palanca Award-winning dramatist Guelan Varela Luarca—is a science-fiction play distinguished by its introduction of the word “robot” to the English language; the latter, translated into Filipino by lawyer and Palanca Hall of Fame inductee Nicolas B. Pichay, is considered as one of William Shakespeare’s greatest plays.

Despite their obvious differences—one is set on an island; the other, against the structures of an unnamed and long-gone Southeast Asian kingdom—both R.U.R. and King Lear/Haring Lear feature lead characters whose hubris—among other flaws—lead to devastating consequences.

In Capek’s play, the six officials—Harry Domin (Avie Alcantara), Fabry (Gab Tibayan), Dr. Gall (Jerome Ignacio), Dr. Hallemeier (Jego Mallillin), Busman (Cholo Ledesma) and Alquist (Jerome Flor)—of a company that manufactures and sells robots (think of the “mechas” in Steven Spielberg’s 2001 film A.I. Artificial Intelligence) went too far in playing god with their creations.

Blinded by their knowledge (ironic, if you think about it) and sense of superiority, the officials “improved” their human-like machines—making them smarter, giving them more human attributes—to the point that these soon rise up against their flesh-and-blood masters—an act that dooms them all.

As directed by the indefatigable JK Anicoche, R.U.R. plays—to me, at least—like a Genesis narrative warped beyond recognition, in which man’s desire to use his knowledge to make himself and/or his world better—to be more like God—leads to his downfall.

The production throbbed with palpable energy, thanks to its young cast. The actors playing the six officials did an adequate job of delivering Luarca’s lines (in different accents, it should be noted, that eventually proved detrimental), but I felt they overplayed their parts, and as a result, their performance suffered. This benefited Sabrina Basilio, who portrayed Domin’s wife Helena Glory, who managed to walk that tight, tricky line between exaggeration and restraint. It’s a lovely balancing act.

Speaking of Luarca, he’s also involved in King Lear/Haring Lear, playing Lokayo, or the Fool, of the title character (a strong Joel Lamangan), whose decision to divide his kingdom between his sweet-talking, deceitful elder daughters, Goneril (the ever-dependable Frances Makil Ignacio) and Regan (a surprisingly effective Martha Comia), and banish his youngest daughter Cordelia (an unremarkable Cheska Ostrea) for refusing to flatter him leads to rejection, heartbreak, insanity and, ultimately, death.

Helming this heavily edited version of Lear is the highly revered Tony Mabesa, Dulaang UP’s founding artistic director. In an effort to make the play less intimidating to college students—and exoticizing it in the process—he transplanted the setting to Southeast Asia and had his actors don gleaming Cambodian costumes, and slither in and out of a nicely lighted, two-level palace that has seen better days. This, while retaining the characters’ very Western names. It’s a head-scratching, regrettable and unjustified decision that distracted from, rather than enhanced, the work.

Considering that critics and scholars lauded King Lear as the Bard’s finest tragedy, Dulaang UP’s production, despite the best efforts of its actors, translator and technical team, seemed to lack a real sense of tragedy. Grief, horror, rage, shock—these never registered much. Not when Lear went completely mad. Not when Gloucester’s (Jojo Cayabyab) eyes were gouged out. Not even when Gloucester’s conniving illegitimate son Edmund (Brian Sy) and Regan’s husband, the Duke of Cornwall (Francis Mata), locked lips. All these emotions appeared to have been practically drained. This, to me, is the most memorable thing Mabesa did in this production.