As someone with ties to the Philippine literary and theater communities, it pleases me to see more of our independent filmmakers adapting Filipino novels, stories, and plays for the big screen.
Consider: Raya Martin is now wrapping up filming his anticipated adaptation of F.H. Batacan’s award-winning crime novel Smaller and Smaller Circles. Next month Kristian Sendon Cordero will start shooting his second feature Hinulid, based on fictionist Carlos Ojeda Aureus’s short story “The Night Express Doesn’t Stop Here Anymore.” In August Ralston Jover’s screen version of the late, great playwright Rene O. Villanueva’s Hiblang Abo (Strands of Gray) will debut at the 12th Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival.
They follow film adaptations screened in the last several years. Among them are Lawrence Fajardo’s Imbisibol (Invisible), adapted from Herlyn Gail Alegre’s play about illegal Filipino workers in Japan; the 12-episode anthology movie Anatomiya ng Pag-ibig (Anatomy of Love) and Maribel Legarda’s Melodrama Negra (Black Melodrama), both adapted from plays by Allan Lopez; and Joel Lamangan’s ZsaZsa Zaturnnah Ze Moveeh (ZsaZsa Zaturnnah the Movie), based on Carlo Vergara’s graphic novel and its musical adaptation about a hairdresser who transforms into a Darna-like superhero.
All these titles are among the latest in a long and distinguished line of adaptations, which includes José Nepomuceno’s now-lost Dalagang Bukid (Country Maiden), based on Hermogenes Ilagan’s zarzuela of the same title; Gerardo de Leon’s Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not, or The Social Cancer) and El Filibusterismo (The Filibustering, or The Reign of Greed), based, of course, on José Rizal’s monumental novels; Lamberto V. Avellana’s A Portrait of the Artist as Filipino, based on Nick Joaquin’s enduring play; and Lino Brocka’s Maynila sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (Manila in the Claws of Light), based on Edgardo M. Reyes’s novel, which was first serialized in Liwayway (Dawn) magazine.
Clearly, the increasing number of such adaptations—both good and bad, and believe me, there are a couple of bad ones—that we are seeing now reaffirms the depth and diversity of their source materials. There are a number of novels, short stories, and plays that render familiar or tired plots in new ways, that offer fresh insights, that have universal appeal, that can resonate with different audiences.
It also encourages other filmmakers to consider literary and theatrical works for their next projects. In the spirit of this encouragement, I’d like to—for lack of a better word—suggest a few of these works that, I think, would translate well on the screen.
First is Agnoia, Liza C. Magtoto’s 2002 Palanca prize-winning full-length play that was adapted from Eli Guieb III’s short story “Horoscope” and mounted by the Philippine Educational Theater Association (Peta) in 2004. At its simplest, the play deals with love and loss, and boasts of 11 interconnected and unnamed characters that are only identified by their astrological signs. I imagine actors would love the ensemble vibe of this play and the moments in it that would allow them to shine.
Another Peta play that directors can consider, especially in light of issues involving the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) community, and the renewed attention it’s getting now, is Rody Vera’s Ralph at Claudia, which was staged in 1995. If I remember right, it’s the first Filipino play that tackled gender reassignment. Even if the subject is not new, it remains a thought-provoking work on gender identity.
Among novels, Jose Dalisay Jr.’s Soledad’s Sister seems to be a good bet. One of five finalists for the inaugural Man Asian Literary Prize in 2007, the novel opens with the boxed corpse of an overseas Filipino worker (OFW) arriving in Manila, and follows the efforts of two people—a police officer and the OFW’s sister—to bring the body back to the province. The things the book touches on—the migrant-worker experience, dreams of a better life—are some things many Filipinos can relate to.
(Incidentally, all three writers are experienced screenwriters: Magtoto penned Emmanuel Palo’s Santa Niña and David F. [partly based on her own play Paigan, a corruption of the surname of real-life African-American soldier David Fagen]; Vera wrote Chito Roño’s Badil [Gun] and Adolf Alix Jr.’s Whistleblower; and Dalisay’s scriptwriting credits include Brocka’s Ina Ka ng Anak Mo [You are the Mother of Your Daughter] and Miguelito, Batang Rebelde [Miguelito, Young Rebel]).
And then there are works that are also screen-worthy, that probably need more daring directors willing to take them on: Lualhati Bautista’s ‘Gapo (short for Olongapo), Gilda Cordero-Fernando’s short story “A Wilderness of Sweets,” Erwin Castillo’s novella The Firewalkers, and even National Artist for Literature F. Sionil José’s so-called Rosales saga. The list is endless.
These are just some of the hundreds, even thousands, of literary and theatrical works that can be brought to life onscreen. When done properly, the act of adapting a work in one medium to another is an act that enriches both and, at its best, transport the audience to a different world. Some of our filmmakers appear to recognize this, and they deserve our encouragement and, more important, appreciation for their efforts to expand the original works’ reach.