SALIDA

A BINISAYA FILM JOURNAL

ISSUE NO. 1

Q&A: BAGANE FIOLA, AIESS ALONSO, SOUTHERNLADS PRODUCTIONS

REVIEWS: ISKALAWAGS by ANTONIO GALAY-DAVID, DOMINGO DOMINGO by MIKE GOMEZ ARTICLES: Of CINEMALAYA... by MARIYA
LIM, ON BINISAYA HISTORY by GRACE LOPEZ, DETAILS ON this
years FEATURE FILMS, binisaya & ASIAN SHORTS, etc.

FREE!

SALIDA is an independent film journal dedicated to giving you the lowdown

on the annual Binisaya Film Festival. It is published under BOMBA! PRESS.
All rights reserved.
For submissions and queries, contact us via email: salida@bombapress.com

FOREWORD
Of all the five years that Binisaya has stood its ground to showcase
the finest in independent regional cinema, there hasnt been a single
one that wasnt a struggle. At a glance, its a surprise how it has survived all this time. For us though, getting a closer look at the entire
preparation process this year drew a whole new perspective on the
idea, and the moment we saw all the friends and supporters offering
a hand to keep the festival alive despite the odds makes it no surprise at all that it has now lasted half a decade since the first gathering in 2009. Theres no real explanation to its appeal really. It could
be the way it embodies a generation of filmmakers who believe in
the DIY ethos. Or maybe the way its history of volunteerism inspires
more to volunteer. One thing for sure, Binisaya is alive today by a
collective effort - not just by one or two organizations, but dare we
say an entire generation.
This year, Bomba Press is glad to be partnering with Keith Deligero
to put up what is turning out to be the most diverse installment yet
with ample representation from film, music, and the arts. We hope
this zine/journal ends up a fitting part of our legacy to the annals of
Binisaya. In here, you will find conversations with the people behind
the films and segments featured in this years festival. You will also
come across letters and art from people who, in each their own way,
embody the same philosophy behind the Binisaya film festival. And
somewhere within these pages, we hope you will find that piece of
yourself that wants to go out and watch an independent film, hear
an independent band, read an independent journal, and support independent art.

Dexter Sy

Bomba Press, Chairman

Cover Art (above) done by Workers & Artisans. FB: facebook.com/pages/Workers-Artisans

FEATURE FILMS

ISKALAWAGS by Keith Deligero (Cebu)

One day, in the small peaceful town of Barrio Malinawon, seven
young punks, who call themselves the Iskalawags because of their
shared love for Filipino action movies (particularly those starred
by their idol Jeric Raval), decide to set out on a mini quest to find
the tree that according to Palotthe gangs de facto leaderbears
the lone papaya fruit as large as the belly of Intoys father.

SONATA MARIA Ug Ang Babayeng Halas Ang Tunga Sa Lawas

by Bagane Fiola (Davao)
A story of a young poet lost between imagination and the fastpaced corporate world.

Lukas Nio by John Torres (Manila)

Lukas Nino (Lukas the strange) is a story of an awkward teenager
coming to grips with his own initiation into manhood just when
there is a movie shoot in their neighborhood. The story opens
several nights before, when Lukas is told that he has a tikbalang
(half-horse, half man) for a father. His father, Mang Basilio disappears in their life the next day. Lukas wonders whether he is a boy
or a tikbalang.
There is a film shoot in the village. Everyone participates. Soon,
they believe the story of the film. That there is a mystical river that
lets them forget one memory that they choose. Lukas father resurfaces, and he is invited to play a role. At this time, very private
footage of a woman emerges from the river.
The film is told by Lukas friend, Lorena, who is fascinated by this
strange boy who thinks he is a tikbalang.

Catch John Torres Master Class (talk/discussion) on September 20 / 10 am

at USC-CAFA Theater. This is open to everyone and admission is free.

binisaya shorts

Dico Hilason by Astro James Lugo (Cebu)

Baybayong Birhen by Amaya Han (Cebu)

An over-confident guy from the province

comes to Cebu and thinks he can handle the
city-ness of Cebu City.

The SPIRIT OF THE SEA takes a rest in

human form and relaxes in a special SHORE.
GIRL and BOY discover the shore and they
fall in love.

Abakada ni Nanay by Joni Sarina Mejico

(Cebu)

Retaso by Ernest Dio

(Cebu)

A 78 year old lady enrolls herself in school

to learn how to read and write.

A compilation of unrelated spare shots and

b-rolls edited together to tell a story.
The Right Thing
by Bradley Tenchavez (Cebu)
The story of Paul Abad Jr., at a time in his
where hes at the crossing in his life between
discontent leading to complains on his situation
and society and general, and appreciation on
simple things that makes life good.

Set in his graveyard shift travels to work routine, his opinion on things take a lighter perspective when he stumbles upon a struggling flower vendor. Will he continue to go about on
his present way of thinking and ignore the struggles? Or will he choose to do the right thing.

I Am Patience by Razcel Jan Salvarita

(Dumaguete City)

Aninaw by Trenary Guerrero (Cebu)

A soulful encounter between a small creature, a snail named Patience, and a man
with a strange device.

A man, who lost his purpose, struggles to

find his way back in a form of music that
can be his only chance to redeem himself
from his past.

Diskonek by Samantha Solidum

(Butuan City)

Josephine by Akie Yano

(Cebu/QC/Japan)

Trinas idea of happiness has been defined

by whats on the interface of her smartphone, but she finds out the hard way that
theres actually life beyond it.

A Filipina mail-order bride in Japan longs for

the lover and the daughter she left behind in
the Philippines.
Ika-3 Putahe
by Joeromer Bacus (Cagayan De Oro City)
Even in his sleep, Emilio is haunted by
scenes in which grave things happen to his
fiance, Helena. He fights these thoughts by
truly loving her and embracing the reality
that nothing dictates what is to happen.
Helena vanishes one day, and all imaginations Emilio fears most come alive. He looks

for her alongside a long-lost friend, William, and hopes that he doesnt lose the only thing he
has, even himself.

ASIAN shorts (curated by Aiess Alonso)

BANSULI (The Flute)

by Min Bahadur Bham (Nepal)

PAHADA
by Niranjan Kumar Kujur (India)

After a long long civil war which cost more

than 13,000 lives, the Maoist have come into
the front - line, to complete in the national
election for the Constituent Assembly. Amid
the political changes going to take place in
the pristine of Himalaya, the life of BIJULI, a
12 years old girl in the remote west of Nepal,
is also about to change forever. BANSULLI is
a journey of hopes and desires, against the
social stigma that still prevails in Nepal.

Munnu is an 8-year-old boy, struggling to

memorize the table of thirteen for quite a
long time. But his marbles and his toy cart
end up charming him more than the need
to sit with a book and study. In the tribal
heartland of Jharkhand, the government
has waged a war against Maoists. The village
environment has just begun to alter with the
arrival of Paramilitary forces in the area.
How does the family cope with such violently
changing times? Will Munnu ever become
responsible?

BOONRERM
by Sorayos Prapapan (Thailand)

SHELTER
by Ismail Basbeth (Indonesia)

Boonrerm is a housemaid. Everyday she

received weird orders.

Love the one youre withwhile you can.

THE RETURN
by XU Qian-Chun Tami (Taiwan)
Chen, a Chinese-Thai, who works as a
housemaster of Thai labors dormitory,
is paying overtime salaries to his peers.
They talk about whether they should be
going back to Thailand for New Years
Festival or not. Some of them want to
go home as soon as possible, some do
not. However, there is no doubt for Chen to stay in Taiwan because he thinks of himself now
as a Taiwanese rather than a foreigner.
WHERE I GO
by Kavich Neang (Cambodia)
San Pattica is a mixed Cambodian-Cameroonian adult whose father is a Cameroonian soldier who came to Cambodia
in 1992-1993 as United Nation peacekeeper, a period of the first Cambodia
election after the Khmer Rouge regime
collapsed. His father met a Cambodian
wife and later on, his wife had a pregnancy who is Pattica. Since Patticas parents left home
for many years, Pattica was raised by his grandmother.
Challenge and difficulty in his family forced his grandmother to bring Pattica to study and
live in an orphanage in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. Since then, Pattica visits his grandmother
and his sister San Adam Pattina whose father is Ghanaian. Later on, Pattica finds that his
mother lived with a Ghanaian guy after his father left the country. Pattica discusses with his
sister, Pattina about their consequences as mixed Cambodian-Cameroonian in Cambodia, and
then he wants to bring Pattina to live and study with him an orphanage. Since then, Pattica
has become more interested in knowing about his own identity since he is a victim of discrimination in his daily life.
ABOUT THE CURATOR
During BINISAYA 2012, Aiess Alonso won best
short film for her Katapusang Labok
Aiess and her film then went to Cannes Short
Film Corner, then to Cinemalaya, and then
everywhere
For more information about the directors, please visit:
http://festival.binisaya.org/tagged/asianshort2014

GROWING BINISAYA
FILM FESTIVAL
by Grace Lopez

here were you in 2009? Bet you were

where you were meant to be. For
independent filmmaker Keith Deligero
and friends, it was the year Binisaya was conceptualized in a small apartment crowded with
filmmakers and former college classmates. In
this particular case, BinisayaTHE film festival.
That year, Deligero flew back to Cebu from
Manila where he was actively working to finish
editing his short film Uwan Init Pista sa Langit
(2009) with classmate and fellow Cebuano
filmmaker Remton Zuasola. Likewise, his friends
were also trying to beat the deadline for a film
festival in Manila. While polishing his short film,
Zuasola was finishing his stop-motion animation,
Mga Damgo (2009). Another filmmaker classmate, Idden de los Reyes, was secretly making
his short film Yawyaw (2009). Admittedly, in
the middle of this panic mode, Deligero kept
wondering out loud why they had to submit their
films somewhere else just to be seen.
For weeks, Deligero badgered his pals about a
possible group screening of their films just like
what visual artists usually do through group
exhibits. Why not? Nagsige kog yawyaw nga
mag-organize lagi ug screeningthe first

Binisaya kay dapat unta weeks earlier pa sa

October 30pero tungod ni bagyong Ondoy
na-move siya to 30. So the deed was done
on that fateful 30th of October through pure
collective effort. Even if Deligero was not able to
attend this group screening due to the damage
his apartment in Manila has sustained, thanks
to typhoon Ondoy, he and Idden delos Reyes
collaborated on what would become the iconic
WAVES logo of Binisaya. Eventually, Deligero
gave up his apartment and his job in Manila to
go back to Cebu that year for good.
Those films they were working on? It went
to several festivals and received its share of
accolades. The group screening became a
homecoming event for these films.
They wanted to regularly continue this group
screening but dilemma ensued: the lack of
original films to screen. Common sense dictates
that they cannot just repeatedly show their
own same films. Two years later, Deligero again
tried to revive the idea of collective screening
but this time as an organized festival inviting
other filmmakers in the Visayas region to join.
To add inspiration to the event, Deligero invited
as guests a few friends from Manila (Keith

could afford to personally fund more) like actor

Ramon Bautista, noted editor of Son of God and
Zombadings Lawrence S. Ang, filmmaker Bagane
Fiola, and writer, film, and music reviewer
Richard Bolisay to grace BINISAYA Film Festival
in 2011.
The maiden festival was hosted by Tioseco
Bohinc Film Archive and University of San Carlos
under the Sinekultura program headed by
Misha Anissimov, coordinator of the universitys
Cinema program. When Cebuano filmmakers
approached me about this particular festival
idea I immediately jumped at the opportunity
to have the university as the first venue for this
Binisaya Film Festival. The reason is because
it came from the grassroots, it came from the
filmmakers themselves. There is nobody holding
their hand. Thats a first because for people to
actually start taking action, taking the time to
actually do the organization, its a thankless job.
I wanted to do our part to support it.
For BINISAYA Film Festival 2012, the festival
received funding from the National Commission
for Culture and the Arts. It partnered with
Bisdak Pride headed by Roxanne Omega-Doron.
A competitive section was opened and it marked
the festivals very first Best Short Film winner:
Katapusang Labok (Last Strike) by Cebuana
filmmaker Aiess Alonso. The film competed in
the Short Film Corner, Cannes Film Festival
2013 and to other film festivals abroad.
BINISAYA Film Festival 2013 partnered with
ACT-UP Cebu spearheaded by filmmaker Chloe
Veloso. George Macapagals Unod became the

festivals short film winner. Cebuano filmmaker

Christian Linabans critically acclaimed feature
Aberya closed the festival.
A twin idea with the birthing of BINISAYA Film
Festival was the experimental plan of creating
a feature film for every festival made by seven
upcoming filmmakers based in Cebu. The film
will be titled after the names of the days of the
week. Hence, the film Biyernes Biyernes (2011)
debuted and opened the maiden BINISAYA Film
Festival followed by Sabado Sabado (2012),
and Domingo Domingo (2013). The project not
only tapped new filmmakers but also fresher
storylines and filmic styles. The films not only
reflect the cinematic tastes of the year but it
also document the different techniques applied
by promising filmmakers, the use of new technology in making films, and the overall progress
of the festival.
Moreover, the practice of the annual shuffling
of organizing partners of the festival further
promotes the fresh ideas and encourages bold
interpretations of the values promoted by BINISAYA. Collaboration has always been the driving
force of the festival.
Now under the umbrella of non-profit organization Binisaya Movement, BINISAYA Film Festival
2014 has independent label Bomba Press as
its organizing partner.
The public can look forward to the screening of
works by Asian filmmakers this year. As laudable
the objective of appreciating our own films is, it
is imperative that we can also witness snippets

of the lives of our Asian neighbors to gain

more perspective of our being Filipinos, being
Cebuanos. Nituo ko na kaya nato maka come
up ug culturally relevant and at the same time
personal short films, said Deligero. Needless
to say, Cebuano films are at par with the worlds
best.
Due to time management and to accommodate
the screening of the Asian films, the festival
has merged the Panorama and Inter-islands
sections to simply call it BINISAYA Shorts 2014.
Anyone living in Cebu can submit a film about
Cebu (Panorama) while anyone from anywhere,
for as long as there is the presence of Bisaya
dialect or Bisaya crew member (Inter-island)
can submit a film for competition or exhibition.
BINISAYA aims to spread the waves of films
made by Cebuanos. To create that appreciation,
the festival had to overcome the mountains
of challenges that characterize every worthy
endeavor such as budget, support, learning
the ropes of mounting a festival. To create
alternative venues, part of the challenge is for
BINISAYA to be peripatetic in order to share the
experience of films projected on any screen
(even the old telon) outdoors in as many
places in the Philippines, especially the remote
areas such as Biliran or Camotes. To connect
ourselves as a people, or as Benedict Anderson
puts it, as an imagined community. Let us truly
see ourselves in our very own films.

This article was originally published on Cebu Daily News (September 9th, 2014). Printed with permission.

Q&A:

Bagane Fiola (Sonata Maria, Director)

SALIDA: On the surface, Sonata Maria is
a love story but deeper, it is a film about a
persons emotional and mental struggles.
Is that a fairly accurate breakdown of the
film?
Bagane Fiola: Love story siya pero aware
mi nga ang film mo-touch pod siya about
sa mga kon unsa gyod ang gusto sa kasingkasing sa isa ka tao. Expect na lang nga
daghan metaphor dinhi nga open pod for
any interpretation.
S: I have read on the films FB page that
you (partly) wrote the screenplay of this
film. Could you please tell us how the
original concept developed and evolved
into a full story?
BF: Makaingon ko nga ang story kay
fragments siya sa mga stories nga na-experience nako ug sa mga people around
me. Then, gipangitaan lang namo og paagi
nga ma-connect tanan pinaagi sa mga
dreams ug imaginations sa main character.
Nag start ang film sa dream ug nag end sa
imagination ni Ramon (ang main actor) ug
ang theme kay carnival. Mag meet daw sila
ni Maria, ang friend ni Ramon nga dugay
na nya wala nakita. Mao ang story kay isa
lang ka adlaw nahitabo pero daghan ang
mga nangahitabo nga mahadlok ko isulti
kay basin ma-spoil na.
S: While shooting the film, did you already
have a clear picture on your mind on how,
say, a particular scene would turn out? Or

did you leave much room for chance and

experimentation?
BF: Naa ko clear picture sa kon unsa ang
mahitabo sa mga scenes, but since purely
independent ni, meaning, naglisod mi ug
walay dakong budget, gina-open namo sa
mga maski unsa man nga mahitabo. Mao
pati ang pag-shoot namo mora lang pod
mi og naa sa dream nga murag dili kaayo
namo ma-control nga murag kami ang
gina control. But of course, we have to be
very careful nga dili mi mawala sa theme.
S: Unsa kadugay ninyo nahuman og
buhat ang salida?
BF: Kon sugod sa pre-prod, kay more than
a year na. Kon magsugod sa production
lang kay 10 months na, since November
ang first shoot hantod karon September.
Pero naa pa gyod mi mga dapat i-fine tune.
Ang nakaayos ani kay walay deadline since
kami lang man pod ang producers. Siguro
kon wala mi na-invite sa Binisaya Film Festival dili pa siguro mi mo-undang og shoot.
S: Kubrick said that a film is - or should
be - more like music than like fiction. It
should be a progression of moods and
feelings. The theme, whats behind the
emotion, the meaning, all that comes
later. Taking from the films title I would
imagine you would agree with him. Yes?
And how integral is music and moods to
Sonata Maria?

BF: Feeling nako dili ni siya typical movie

nga pag naay sonata kay musical or
about music dayon, or singer or musician
ang mga characters. Tama man si pareng
Kubrick. Dako og role ang music sa Sonata
Maria. Sa inspiration pa lang sa music ni
J.S. Bach nga Badinerie nga meaning
kay jesting or joke nga usahay ginagamit
pod siya sa mga play. Dira nainspire ang
music sa Sonata Maria nga gibuhat ni Jad
Montenegro. Ang film mismo, mora siya
og music nga naghope mi nga after nimo
og tan-aw, naa man gyod siguroy molinger.
Mora siya og music nga walay last chord or
key, walay ending, nga paghuman sa film
kay ang mind na lang sa tao ang magpadayon sa ending nga walay kahumanan.
S: Weve seen the earlier trailer of this
film. The theme of that trailer has a more
forest/nature feel rather than having
a suburban setting, as weve seen on the
latest trailer. How does these two worlds
connect? Or would that give away much
of the films climax/idea?
BF: Ang setting gyod sa Sonata Maria kay
city and carnival. Naa lang siyay mga nature scenes nga gamay para ma break ang
monotony siguro, pero gikan siya sa dream
or imagination.

S: Were there any process or special

undertakings you did prior to making
this film?
BF: Naa, daghan ata. Naay personal kaayo
nga dili nako pwede masulti maski kinsa.
Naa pod ubang mga kanang wala gibuhat
kanang nahitabo lang siya. Like katong
gikuha nako ang baril nga nahibilin sa
guard didto sa C.R. sa isa ka fastfood chain
sa Davao. Personally, na experience nako sa
real life ang isa ka scene nga buhaton nako
og pelikula, unya kahibalo ko nga one day
mabuhat nako ni sa isa ka pelikula. Pero
eventually during the shoot kay naglahi
man pod siya.
S: Major influences?
BF: Mga experiences nako sa among bukid
kanang mga perya-perya. Mga stories
sa akong lola saona katong naa pa mi sa
bukid unya na inspired lang ko sa akong
interpretation saona since bata pa, lahi ang
ma-imagine. Sa movies kay daghan. Sagol-sagol ata siya sa mga favorite filmmakers nako: Richard Linklater, Woody Allen,
Wes Anderson, Wong Kar Wai, Jean Pierre
Jeunet. Sa books: Gabriel Garcia Marquez,
Haruki Murakami, J.D. Salinger. Sa music,
si J.S. Bach.

Bagane Fiolas Sonata Maria will be this years festival closing film.
it will be shown on september 20 8 p.m. at usc-cafa theatre

OF CINEMALAYA ACCORDING TO
THIS CEBUANA
by Mariya Lim

Toto, I dont think were in

Kansas anymore.
If theres one old movie besides The
Sound of Music that we can all agree
weve seen somewhere during our childhood/teenhood/general
young-hood,
its probably The Wizard of Oz. Between
those whose tastes have evolved beyond the mainstream and those that still
subsist on cinematic diets exclusively of
Hollywood blockbusters, theyve at least
one thing in common: both can sing a few
lines of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
The 1939 film offers a wealth of one-liners,
but to this writer upon skipping class to attend the last three days of the 10th annual
Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film
Festival in Manila, Judy Garland couldnt
have said it better. No way could I still
have been in Cebu.

The feeling of being in a kind of Oz began

almost immediately upon arrival, in the
way promotional banners flanked entire
sides of streets. The words CINEMALAYA X flashed neon on billboard-sized and
beside-billboard television screens. And it
made me think God damn is something
cultural a big enough deal here. Back
home, the lower left page of a daily newspaper and a brief soundbite on FM would
already be the sweetest steal.
I was Dorothy in a black BINISAYA hoodie as I approached the monolithic mass
of concrete that is the Cultural Center of
the Philippines. I kept on underestimating
Manila traffic the entire three days I was
there, naively assuming I would make it to
all the 10 oclock screenings with a commute time allowance of only an hour. The
Wicked Witch of the North wanted me to
know though: This is the capital, and if
itll take the most riotous display of fuckthe-police driving to remind you youre not

home anymore, here, have some front-row

seats to a hit-and-run in broad daylight!
It was a place where the munchkins were
neither mini nor multihued. Instead they
came in the form of ushers and usherettes
so pinpoint-perfect at their jobs they could
probably go CPR on anyone who hyperventilated from the movies. Flashlights like
extensions of their arms, I looked back
on my own performance as a volunteer
for the smattering of film festivals in Cebu
with a kind of impressed embarrassment.
When the Cinemalaya hymn (or whatever
that thing is called) played and the lights
dimmed and the show began, this much I
realized, in a progression of no particular
order:
1. Hearing the word putangina onscreen
is somehow really hilarious, regardless of
context. I guess the Manila crowd just reacts more.
2. Youd think that affixing a Santo Nino anywhere in a film would be a signifier enough
for an audience to identify that its Cebuano.
It was a little lost on my neighbors though as
they couldnt correlate the Sinulog mascot
to our city.
3. The same names make repeat appearances in different sets of credits, which
could indicate these people are just so
passionate or that even in Manila, its still

a pocket industry (so what does that make

ours?!)
4. Infidelity/Family/LGBT/Anything Gritty/
Stray Comedy = Choose one theme or combine for maximum effect.
5. Going back to the point made in #1, theirs
is just an audience that has more energy.

And it all boils down to a hunger. Hardly any of baby Cinemalaya equivalents
in Cebu come with a fee for the public.
Over there not only does one pay for every screening, the shows actually get sold
out. Whereas Im used to events with a
viewership as uniform as a field of poppies, everyday at the Emerald City came
attendees as diverse as the usual suspectsstudents, vague art types, the
filmmakers themselvesplus the odd senior citizen or two, a family even and middle-aged couples on date night.
In the end of Wizard of Oz, the titular wizard turns out to be a fraud. By the time
I realize this though, Ive sunken far too
deep into this article with the Oz analogy
that I cant undo the tornado, so to speak.
Thus I try to justify the loopholeat which
point of my lost major film festival virginity
did the disillusionment set in? I didnt get
to stick around for the Awards Night anymore, because I had to return to a reality
of three absences in school. Maybe if I
had stayed I would have found the Wizard?

Either way, the yellow brick home was

paved with many an insight. Admit it,
were a regionalistic bunch. We still secretly harbor ill-will that were not the
capital. We like to mock the Northern
pronunciation of the words ankle and tricycle, PO machines as my friends and
I tease. We espouse the glories of our
city where beautiful beaches are a road
trip away, while still being metropolitan
enough after two new branches of J. Co
Donuts (because that is the ultimate barometer with which one can determine a
metropolis from the rest).
It isnt that Im selling out to the imperialistic overlords after one weekend. Manila
can keep their legendary-but-actually-very-real traffic for themselveswhich
we just might be catching up to anyway,
what with all these roadside developments and repairs on the actual roads
themselves. As for anyone who denies
the quality of our local talent , they should
be sent a flock of evil flying monkeys at
their doorstep.
However, what good is all that if theres
hardly a reception? They say you cant
call it art unless you share it. Thats why
the best Cebuano talents transplant

themselves in a place far from their roots;

if the disparity is as audible as a few scattered claps versus rounds upon rounds
of applause, even a Scarecrow without a
brain cell in his straw head can tell whos
having it infinitely better, arts-wise.
True, the three or so upcoming film fests
in the city will probably not be rivaling
Cinemalaya in terms of attendance just
yet. But whoever said it cant get better? Like tin men who want hearts and
lions in search of their courage, its free
to dream. And we have to take it upon
ourselves to create that reality, instead of
just waiting for Glinda the Good Witch to
hand us another cinematic Golden Age,
all the while complaining until it comes.
I felt a pebble inside my one of my ruby
red slippers on my final day. I knew what
it meant: I had to do as Dorothy did and
tap both heels together until Im back in
Cebu. Except not really, I was wearing
boots. And while I looked out at all the
big buildings and all the burgeoning bigcity energy there was to envy, this much
still remains and stays the same: Theres
no place like home.

In the spirit of giving you a free taste test of what youve missed in CINEMALAYA X,
here have some one-liner reviews on me:
SUNDALONG KANIN directed by Janice
OHara & Denise OHara
Lost Boys served up Oro-Plata-Mata style.
RONDA directed by Nick Olanka
Ai-Ai aint your Tanging Ina this time. Not
even with Carlo Aquino around.

bliss or strifeand that for the little eternity we have alive we get snippets of each
before our own own impermanence takes
over? Do I just sound pretentious?
1ST KO SI 3RD directed by Real Florido
A comedy, thank God!

KASAL directed by Joselito Altarejos

Token festival gay film.

#Y directed by Gino M. Santos

Poor Little Rich Boy #ConyoProblems

MARIQUINA directed by Milo Sogueco

Even the most perfect nuclear family could
melt downat one misstep, it will wear and
maybe even tear like an overused pair of
shoes.

CHILDRENS SHOW directed by Roderick

Cabrido
The seedy underbelly of kid wrestlers with a
quasi-Maalaala Mo Kaya treatment.

BWAYA directed by Francis Xavier Pasion

Mythic and meta and mesmerizing, even
with Angeli Bayani accented Bisaya.
DAGITAB directed by Giancarlo Abrahan V
Are all the best years behind us? Or isnt it
that nothing is permanentnot of love, loss,

A THIEF, A KID AND A KILLER directed by

Nathan Adolfson
Quentin Tarantino-esque, but cornier.
SHORTS A & B
I loved them more than the features, possibly because they didnt last long enough for
me to nitpick.

Q&A

with AIESS ALONSO

(Asian Shorts, curator)

SALIDA: How did you get your start in

film-making? What encouraged you?
Aiess Alonso: My 4 year old self watching
Animals Are Beautiful People and the rest is
history.
Youre a well travelled person. Youve been
a witness to different cultures all over the
world. How did this shape your views as a
filmmaker?
I think travelling gives you the chance to realize
your place in the world. Youre just a speck of
dust when so much is out there. I have learned
to move while I keep my feet on the ground.
So youve brought home six short films from
all around Asia. How did the idea of bringing
these films to the local audience came about?
I have to give all credit to Keith Deligero for
coming up with the idea of an Asian shorts
section. Maybe he sees it that I have enough
contact to make it happen so we got together
late last year and discussed its potential with
Binisaya. Because one can travel the world
through a film, ang goal sa Asian shorts is to
show what is out there and what stories they
want to tell and in turn make the audience
reflect on the short films we make in our language, culture and place.
What was the overall process in curating
these short films?
From the birth of Asian Shorts, you could
say I already had some films in mind. It was
important for me though to have a degree of
varierty in the countries and the films narrative. Permission and discussion to screen 5 out
of the 6 short films were just done through various messaging platforms. Leaving out technicalities, I couldnt say that I had any difficulties
and more so in getting the filmmakers to agree
because all of them were very enthusiastic.

Aside from the fact that they are all made

by Asian directors, what do you think is the
unifying theme behind these films?
Finding hope in the midst of struggle(s).
Any dream projects (or dream for the local
film-making scene in general)?
Jean Luc Godard said that, Cinema has to
leave the places where it does exist, and go to
places where it doesnt. With this statement, I
dream of a possibility of an annual program
under Binisaya, headed and organized by
Visayan filmmakers and an invited guest, that
will cater to indigenous communities and/or
marginalized groups from different parts of
the Philippines - particularly in Visayad and
Mindanao. And by that, it would mean taking
Binisaya to a particular community and/or
group who have very little (maybe, none at all)
access to cinema. Through series of film workshops and screenings, the goal of this program
is to inspire them to let them tell their own stories and impart a sense of empowerment to the
people through filmmaking, pave a longer way
towards indigenous Filipino films and bring
true meaning to the words, World Cinema.

Domingo Domingo:
Sundays Are Not Holy
by Mike Gomez

ilm in the Philippines flows along

two distinct currents: the art
film, shown primarily in film festivals regional/national/global, and
the mainstream film, screened in movie
theaters everywhere. The former of course
requires the direct intellectual participation
of the audience in parsing the films multivalent symbolisms or the freeform storylines
or the unrestricted themes, films crafted
seemingly without respect for traditional
notions of decency or political correctness
or simply catharsiscommonly this is where
the so-called auteurs stand their ground
(also, those who call themselves cinephiles/
cineastes without any hint of irony love to position themselves in this camp, all the while
twirling their mustaches and sneering at the
unwashed masses). No explanation needed
for the latter: these movies are our equivalent to the ordinary Hollywood blockbusters,
although the genres are typically limited to
only horror and comedy or romance.
There is, however, one thread that links
(thinly) these two models together.
Cynicismit abounds in both filmmaking
categories, albeit manifesting itself in different forms. Its almost too banal to note how
unashamedly manipulative the PR machines
for mainstream movies are in hooking their

audiences, how they only have to get at least

two popular actors/actresses onscreen together to sell tickets, how they only have
to get said actors/actresses to say lines explicitly meant to be quoted on Facebook or
Twitter or whatever for the money to start
flooding in. I hate to sound like a pretentious
dick here, but facts are facts: you can accuse
the Oscars of always getting it wrong all you
want, but at least they dont laud movie entries specifically for putting a bunch of asses
on movie seats. Commercial Philippine cinema is a perpetual PR-motion machine.
The other manifestation of this cynicism is
a little trickier, though.
Independent filmmaking in the Philippines
is supposed to save whatever artistry remained in the cinematic landscape, simply by
virtue of being commercial movies diametrical opposite. Indeed were slowly resuscitating our international reputation (dead since
the 80s) through the ascendancy of talented
indie filmmakers (Lav Diaz being foremost
among themrecent critical comparison to
Bergman assuring his status), but this is
incidentally also where the problem arises:
acclaim in the international art-house circuit
has been turning Philippine indie movies
into clichs of their own. Hence the glut of
films shot in the cinema verit style, films

depicting the (primarily) economic squalor/

hardships of Philippine life. Hence, also, the
term poverty porn. Weve gathered a bag
of tricks, and were simply using it over and
over. The foreigners eat up this stuff, so why
bother changing it? Dont fix what isnt broken, right? Yes, of course, thats perfectly
reasonable stuff, but the point here is that
you know something is wrong when you use
artistic integrity to justify the dearth of
originality or ambition, when you brazenly
use the tricks of the very thing you profess
to go against to make yourself look good. Its
still the same cynical manipulation, but arguably in an even worse way.
Exceptions exist, though, as in Marlon Riveras delightfully sly and cheeky Ang Babae
sa Septic Tank, and there are many others,
but I believe that its going to be the young,
aspiring filmmakers wholl suffer the inevitable backlash. Already I, a novice reviewer,
have seen several student productions bearing the clichs of the worst of Philippine indie filmthe pointlessly lackadaisical scenes,
the intentionally boring camerawork, the
small-minded storieswith the legitimately
promising ones few and far between. The
very point of going indie is to be free of clichs/sameness, so why?
Which is where my mixed feelings about

the Cebuano film Domingo Domingo come in.

The movie is actually an omnibus of seven
short films, each helmed by a different director, and was a feature to last years Binisaya
Film Festival. Now, the anthology film almost
automatically raises my eyebrows, especially
if its entered into a film festival. Not only is
such a movie harder to produce, logistically
and financially, but it is also quite subversive,
given the context: normally art films are noted for being guided by the dominating voice
of a single director (hence the endurance of
the auteur theory), so cramming in seven
disparate sets of idiosyncrasies into a single
84-minute movie, and then expecting them
all to cohere in the end, is boldadmirably
bold. How to even judge it? Do we consider
the whole thing holistically, or do we simply
pick and choose?
But, for length considerations, what follow
will be broad strokes.
Domingo Domingo as a whole is an intriguing/interesting film (if only conceptually),
but it is too flawed to be anything truly remarkable, dragged down by parts that do not
have any business being there, or by parts
that are plainly bad even when taken on their
own merits. They stick out like open sores
they suck nearly all your attention. While
watching it, I could not help but think that the

strongest director in the bunch maybe should

have directed the whole thing, so that the ultimate thematic concerns finally cohere visibly, and that a strong unifying voice guides
the film to wherever the director wants to go.
Indeed, kind of like Altmans Short Cuts or
PT Andersons Magnolia. As it stands, Domingo is too noisy, too scatter-brained, and too
confused to be memorable. It doesnt really
know what it wants to be, much less what it
wants to say.
Really, until the third film, you dont even
get the idea that its an anthology film.
So, then: it opens inside a darkened car,
driving through nighttime Cebu, the scene
buoyed by a lilting Cebuano ballad on the
radio. The car eventually reaches a secluded hilly spot, and the driver gets out, lifts a
mans body out of the trunk and then sets
it against the car. This is a sequence that
wouldnt be out of place in a typical noir film,
but what follows immediately upsets expectationsthe dissolve after a close-up on the
mans face reveals him sleeping in a church,
attending Mass with his family. Thus the thematic agenda is (ostensibly) laid out, thus the
events bookending the film are narrated, and
thus the first short in the film begins. It is titled Simba Ko, directed by Archie Manayon.
In terms of narrative, this is one of the
two most important shorts in Domingo. In
fact, you can just take this and the final
short, craft a completely different filmtonally and structurallyand still make sense.
This is where we learn of the pivotal event
that somehow occupies the filmmakers overarching concerns, but it really just seems
that they only wanted to include a specific
happening to justify their structural choice:
in none of the succeeding shorts does this

event even get mentioned, but in Simba Ko,

it is staged as something portentous, a really important occurrence, an event around
which the fates of the rest of the characters
evolve. While I have no problem with leaving
things unexplained, what bugs me about this
is how matter-of-factly (or maybe casually)
Mr. Manayon drops it into the storyline. Its
narrative dressing, made to look more necessary than it really is. Thematically, this subplot kind of makes sense, but the rest of the
shorts bog it down and muddle it so totally
that by the end, I didnt care about what the
entire film was trying to tell me.
Perhaps the problem here is that Simba Ko
is too on-the-nose emotionally and too basic
fictively. We never get to really care about the
characters since the film telegraphs our reactions, and the twist in the end comes off as
too predictable to be really shocking.
Still, the best thing about this short for me
is the sudden tonal shift in the beginning.
It shows glimpses of a director who knows
what he wants to do and has the confidence
to follow through with ithe has the will to
go along with his whims, in the service of
his overall goal, but for some reason he lets
his vision cloud his instincts. For example,
in the scene where the protagonist checks
into the pension house for a rendezvous with
a woman named Olga, he literally narrates
the title of the story simply to drive home
his directors point and simply to help get
Domingo moving. This obvious artifice could
be at home in another film (maybe something
more allegorical), but in a film thats shot in
the verit style, where events are first understood as literal, it doesnt work. It deters
from the goal of literalism, detaches the viewer needlessly.

Hes saying something, but hes too bent on

the fact that hes saying something.
To borrow from a friends opinion of another filmNicolas Winding Refns Only God
Forgivessometimes its important to let the
style dictate the type of truth needed to be
shown. Refns film is divisive because its too
unabashedly stylized, all of it too visually glorified, the violence depicted as too meaninglessly grand, but the overcooked style helps
lead viewers to accept the final few events
(where Ryan Gosling quite literally returns
to his mothers womb) as true, metaphorically. It does not make sense, yet because of its
sheer absurdity, its actually more resonant.
So what Im saying is simply that just because cinema verit is the default setting for
Filipino indie filmmakers, it doesnt mean
that such a style necessarily fits every story,
every theme, and every premise. And, simpler still, what Im also saying here is that
Simba Kos script is atrocious (wonky dialogue further damned by horrible acting, etc).
The next two films arent any better, either.
Mga Hangaway, directed by Steven Atenta,
and Agi, directed by Nicolo Manreal, are films
that ultimately do not have any business
belonging to the whole set. While Hangaway
is more streamlined and focused and ties
together neatly into Domingos overarching
theme, Agi simply wrecks whatever momentum the preceding shorts have gathered.
Between the two I liked Hangaway better
because its just actually a long fight scene
hung onto a hackneyed story of a fatherand-sons distancethe extended escrima
sequence is delightful. The movements are
graceful, the camera knows how long to stay
on the action, and the editing shapes the duel
into a kinetic dance of death. There are no

shaky-cam tricks to impart a false sense of

speed. No wonder the film employed three directors of photography: Samantha Solidum,
Jay Hernandez, and Neil Briones.
About Agi the less said, the better.
Its a stolid, bland, boring piece of work.
What it does instead is show the dangers inherent in wantonly ripping pages out of a documentarians playbook: documentaries are
what they are usually because their subjects
are already interesting, innately worth filming, the director trusts himself and his story
so much he lets it speak for itself (nothing
is manufactured). But if your subject is just
some guy who just goes on a boat trip for an
unknown goal, and who happens to get ripped
off by a streetwalker and then gets robbed
by a pickpocketconversely, it comes off as
awkward, too mannered, too telegraphed. The
facts alone in Agi are uninteresting, which
is the problem. The languor is unjustified, everything feels purposeless, and it starts with
nothing and then ends with nothing. Worse
still is that it tries too hard to imply meaning
(the pen-exchange scenes), and expects us
to go along with it just because of the effort.
Dont even get me started on the sex scene.
Thankfully the next film is a vast improvement.
What may be the best short in Domingo Domingo is Grace Marie Lopezs Yolanda Remulta. This is where the omnibus shines for me,
as the overriding directorial choice here is
utilized to great effect: accompanied by beautiful nighttime cinematography, the story
tells the recovery efforts of a poor family up
in the hills (of presumably Northern Cebu) after the devastation of Yolanda. The montages
of the destruction wrought by the super-typhoon are buoyed by the familys straight-

forward narration, pitched at an emotional

register thats not too high-strungit nails
the right tone, resignation at the present
but tinged with hope for the future. In this
film we see that the Filipinos resilience
doesnt really come from sheer strength, but
it springs from his unequivocal faith in the
future. Tomorrow is another day, the father
concludes, and so it is.
The details are also quite affecting.
Notice the scene where a small boy tells
of how he and his sisters had seen another
kid freeze to death in their evacuation center. The director, knowing enough to detach
herself from the story, couldnt help but get
riled up by the anecdote, her voice rising
and all, but keeps going on anyway: the exchange is real, natural, resonant. Especially
when we watch how the boy doesnt seem to
be affected by what hes saying, how he even
tries to keep on smiling, how delighted he
looks just because hes being filmed. Its not
that he doesnt care about the dead kid, hes
simply too caught up in the moment for anything to register. Filipinos simply cant resist
hamming it up for the camera, no matter the
circumstances, and so that is what we see.
So now Im going to skip ahead, just to get
something out of the way.
A couple or so sentences for Jvi Luibs Mga
Nagdumala: this one is the film that does not
belong here. It is inconsistent visually and
thematically (at this point I stopped caring
about what it all meant anyway) with the
other shorts, and it is just plain ugly. Now,
the device of a person(s)mostly a man (or
men)smoking and brooding on the street is
one of the clichs of young Philippine indie
filmmaking, and it has always been terrible
and pretentious. Its a placeholder for something truly meaningful, and to me its always
been a signal of a directors faltering imagination. (Cant think of anything engaging
to bridge one section to the next? Just have
some guy sit around and smoke and think
about life or art or whatever.) You can pull
off something like this in literature, not in
something so visually immediate/compelling
as film. And even then, why use such a glar-

ing clich? So when I saw the main character

do exactly that, even accompanied by a low
and ponderous voice reciting pseudo-intellectual verbiage, I stopped paying attention.
Yes, the flash-cuts showing a girl in (I presume) a wedding gown are interesting.
But the rest of the short is not.
So.
Moving onDomingo ni Dexter, by Aldo
Nerbert Banaynal, is propelled by an interesting (if overdone) idea, but then is torpedoed by wonky structuring and execution. It
is also the film outside of the bookends that
adheres the closest to what is the most likely
theme of the whole movie, only that it is a
slight riff, telling about what a person might
do after waking up after an incredibly realistic dream of death. As expected, he tries to
reverse his fate, but my main problem with
the short is how structurally imbalanced it
is: too much time is spent on the guy doing
nothing with his friend, letting things flow
too freely that the point almost gets lost. If it
had been shorter (for example if the scenes
of them eating were cut), Mr. Banaynal could
have achieved pretty much the same effect
he was going for. Again, its pure narrative
dressing. And the camerawork is too unfocused to be anything other than a confused
attempt at stylization, made all the more
glaring because the story itself does not need
it.
Does it even mean anything, the wobbling
camera, or are we expected to think that it
means something? I might be accused of critical/intellectual laziness here, but shouldnt
a film stimulate ones thinking first, before
it can be engaged on that level (or on any
level, to be frank)? Dexter achieves something beyond its means only during the sudden climactic encounter, if only because of
how unprepared we are for it, even though
in retrospect the short itself has been steadily shepherding us to that moment all along.
Its an almost masterful storytelling stroke,
though the ending doesnt really capitalize on
itan easy, inoffensive, corporately approved
epiphany is what we see.

The final film of the set, Nota, directed

by Chloe Veloso, explains the back-story of
Father Al, the priest casually referred to in
Simba Ko. Story-wise he is compelling as a
character, the skeleton key (as it were) to
understanding the ideas behind Domingo
Domingo: what could have led him to that
night in the pension house, caught literally
with his pants down, his name dirtied without him even knowing about itthis is where
the lack of explanation helps enrich the
narrative, the elaborate flashback does not
provide a clean-cut Freudian explanation to
his reasons for doing what he ultimately did.
A full, pat answer would have cheapened Father Al, and would have neutered the impact
of his fate. The misdirection here only supplies the possibility, and it is a realistic and
even a genuinely emotional one, as after all,
what could anyone have done in his place?
His choice was only one out of many, and out
of those, probably more than half would have
been safe and harmless, so then we are left
to askwhy?
In this sense, its only fitting that Nota be
the concluding film in the set.
Problem is that the framing and composition during his conversation with the mayors daughter is too loaded, leaping beyond
mere suggestiveness into just plain dictation.
From the way the camera locks on his knobby hands, deliberately avoiding or obscuring
his face, the shadowy way he communicates
(verbally/physically), and the deep focus
shots of him and the icons on his table
straight away we are told that Father Al is
hiding something vaguely evil, or at least deviant. We are forced to take sides right off the
bat, instead of letting the images and the dialogue carry the narrative, allowing us to pick

the side we want. Again its too conscious of

the fact that it is saying something, and the
message isnt even provocatively offensive,
doesnt invite introspection, just another socially approved conclusion that stays within
the lines of good (read: religious) taste. It
casts blame without really asking itself why.
In the end it willingly renders itself safe and
palatable, when instead it shouldnt have
been. But maybe its awkwardly saccharine
tone (in the flashbacks, which is about 80%
of the film anyway) is the point: this romance
should not happen, especially not in this
house of God, we know this, so lets use the
trappings of the typical romantic drama to
subvert expectations. Yet the tonal switch
shoots the whole thing down.
I did like the ending, though. The driver/
concierge in the first short reappears, clutching Father Als crucifix, bowing his head as
if he were in the confessional. There is no
reason for the guy to feel any sort of guilt,
to feel anything at all, really, for the doomed
priest, but in that moment he becomes our
surrogate. It is the most human moment in
the short. Not the mushy scenes between the
two seminarians, not the gratingly insipid
conversation between the young woman and
the priest, not his ruminations about the
nature of true love (which is steeped in so
much irony he could have drowned in it)it
is the driver, inessential to the story except
as literally being a device to end it, who gains
the responsibility of emotion.
So now, after all that, I get to thinking:
maybe the point of Domingo Domingo is not
to defy categorization, but simply to stay
snugly in the middle. Its not too sincere and
not too ironicit simply is confused. The sad
thing is that it probably prefers that.

Taicho: The most memorable project that i worked on was

for Drop Decays I Wanna Touch You. It was a big step from
doing random skits and video and it was the first time all of
us knew what to do and how to do it. Everything from the
pre-production, production and post-production went very
smoothly. not to mention that it was the first time someone
come to our shoot all angry and pissed and complained we
were making too much noise in the neighborhood. Surprisingly
that video was featured on MYX Philippines and on MTV Asia
and that made us very proud.

Q&A:
SOUTHERNLADS PRODUCTIONS
Who are you guys?
Karl Lucente, Neil Briones, Steven Atenta, Steven Caete, Ronnie Gamboa, Edgardo Butawan Jr., Gale Osorio, Trenary Guerrero, Katrina Malicay, and Anne Amores. But we collaborate
with other creative groups and individuals we come across.
How did the idea of starting Southernlads Production came about?
We were just fooling around, we werent even taking it
seriously. One of our friends brought a digital camera and he
had an idea for a skit. So we decide to record it, some of us
were the actors for it, we even did our own stunts. And in the
moment we decided to make the title, we also made the name
of our group.
How long does a project, say, a music video, usually
take?
It depends. For pre-production, where we come up with the
concepts, storyboards, location scouting, and general planning for the shoot usually take 1-2 months. The production or
the shoot takes about 2-3 days. And for the post-production
or editing, where procrastination majority of the time kicks in,
will take from 2 months to a year.
What are your favorite projects so far? Why?
Karl: The Lab is my favorite project because it is an independently-produced web series by Southernlads featuring
bands and artist that are mostly based here in Cebu where we
let them play their music in very unusual places . And it was
really fun to meet and get to know a lot of talented artists.
Steve: My favorite project was the Sheila and the insects music
video Pretty Loser because this was my first time shooting
underwater and it was also really fun shooting it outside of
the city.
Jhe: Charades because that was the first time we had a
stunt choreography training in the days before the shoot. that
shoot involved a lot of people, the stunt men, the extras and it
was really fun meeting new friends and getting to know them.
I also got the chance to play airsoft for the first time.

Neil: The first episode of the Lab because it was the first time
that I fully experimented with practical lights and framing. The
lights were carefully lit and the framing was carefully planned.
If I didnt made that video then probably I wouldnt be like
this today. It was actually a very special personal project to
someone but Karl found out my secrets and so It was the
birth of The Lab sessions. (I AM THE REAL FOUNDER OF
THE LAB LOL)
Who do you look up to and what is it about them do
you find admirable or fascinating?
Neil: I look up to a lot of cinematographers and directors such
as Christopher Doyle, Wong Kar Wai, Wally Pfister, Christopher
Nolan, Gaspar Noe, Roger Deakins, Jeff Coronoweth, Ridley
Scott and the DP from Bladerunner, Alfonso Cuaron, Park
Chan Wook, Chong Hun Chung...Theres too many on the list
from European to Asian influences haha. But one of the things
that I find admirable the most is the film community in Cebu.
The people here have been working so hard to create a scene
in Cebuano dialect and thats what made me inspire to do
better. There are a lot of conflicts here going on and I find
that a strong starting point progress for Cebu.
Karl: Pancho Esquerra, Quark Henares, RA Rivera and
Marie Jamora are some of the people I admire. They are
Manila-based artists and most of their works are music videos
and commercials. One thing that probably I love about Filipino
artists is that each one of them is a sum of many talented
filmmakers. They have that unique and distinctive way of
making their influences as their own. Thats why I admire
those directors. They think different.
Jhe: Creating a film is not that easy, it requires patience, skills,
exotic lifestyle, sleepless nights, crazy ideas, Investing some
of their money for the sake of their happiness or dreams, and
a lifetime study. Those are the reason why I Idolized every
people who are into filming Industry.
Is SLP an exclusive thing or do you accept guys and
gals who wants to be a member of your gang?
We do have a core group but it doesnt mean that we are an
exclusive group, lets say we are a group of freelancers and
for every project we look for a person/friend/colleague who is
fit to work on that project. And yes, they can approach us if
they want to join in we are not that strict but there are times
that were a bit busy thats why we cant entertain people who
want to join.
ADD THEM UP ON FACEBOOK: SOUTHERNLADS PRODUCTIONS

ISKALAWAGS: A Review
by Antonio Galay-David
Filipino culture is characterized
by naturalized artifice.
This is what is foregrounded in the distinctly Visayan film Iskalawags by Keith Deligero. Based on the short story Ang Kapayas
by the Cebuano writer Erik Tuban, Iskalawags revolves around the eponymous gang
of young men from the Visayas (the film does
not specify where beyond Sitio Malinawon,
but the surroundings indicate the town of
San Francisco in the Camotes Islands off the
shores of Cebu). The young men, led by the
adolescent Palot, are avid fans of Tagalog
action films. They go around their rural fishing town re-enacting their favourite action
scenes, and re-enactments develop into full
blown acts of mischief. One day Palot sees
a large papaya on a tree growing on the
backyard of his teacher maam Lina. He then
makes it the gangs great mission to take the
fruit. One of the gang, Intoy, narrates the adventure, along with other misadventures and
details such as his own domestic problems
and Palots coming of age.
Much of Filipino culture is imposed, and
Iskalawags reveals how the rural Visayan
sensibility in particular ends up appropriating the imposed Tagalog culture (whether
popular or academic) into everyday life. The
result is often strikingly, and humorously,
incongruous: the Iskalawags re-enacting an

urban shootout, reciting long lines in Tagalog

with difficulty to each other under the coconuts of their balanghoy-strewn beach; Liklik
singing April Boy in the middle of the lasang
while Bulldog beside him smokes a cigarette
rolled with lomboy leaf; Bulldog struggling to
recite a talumpati in Tagalog. And the characters and ultimately the film could only
be aware of this incongruity: at one point,
Intoys narration describes Buwan ng Wika
as when we wear Filipiniana while pulling
weeds. And we get shots of the group posing
in gangster tableau while Bulldog holds a
chicken they had just killed with slingshots.
When the appropriation is not humorously
incongruous, it is demonstrative of cultural
powerplay: in cases when power needs to
be demonstrated, characters assume the
imposed culture. As such, Palot dons a
Jeric Raval get-up (Tagalog 90s action star
apparel) in trying to woe Dr. Gaos daughter
Kristine. Maam Lina speaks with authority
in English over a cowering class, silencing
Elyok and Poldos Bisaya conversation. The
participants of the Buwan ng Wika celebration receive much attention from their
school with their eloquence in the imposed
Tagalog language while nobody listens to
Bulldog as he struggles with his talumpati.
With their pubescent machismos, the gang
assume the Tagalog action star persona to

feel superior in their bukid.

Conversely, all that is base, yet true, is
naturally associated with the characters native culture and consequently their Cebuano
language. This is graphically demonstrated
by one of Bulldogs jokes, Mahal kita sa
pag-ibig, sa bugas di ko pasalig. Save for
Jeric Ravals last lines, no Tagalog line in the
film is said in earnest. While maam Lina is
talking about the female reproductive system
in English, Intoy narrates, in Cebuano, the
boys own, more authentic experience with
sex by watching porn. Tellingly the only time
maam Lina speaks Cebuano is during her
sexual encounter.
The film thus deals heavily with sex. And
central to this treatment is the image of
the papaya. Palot spots the ripe papaya, but
after he does so he also sees a man come
out of maam Linas house. We thus cannot
tell if the papaya the gang is seeking is the
actually fruit or, in a metonymical sense, the
chance to see maam Lina naked (papaya being associated in the film with breasts when
Kristine was introduced). The film also uses
wordplay to lead to such a reading: at some
point the narrator uses the Cebuano idiom
kapayason (overly sensitive, but literally
papaya-like). And of course sensitivity has

at once apprehensive and sensual implications, both characteristics of hidden urges.

In seeking the literal papaya, the Iskalawags,
we may over-read, are also seeking the
metonymical papaya of the fairly attractive
maam Lina, and thereby not only a mission
accomplished for their role-playing, but also
a consummation of their growing native urges. This ambiguity is one charm of the film.
And in so doing does the film come closest
to a coming of age story. The relieving of
wanderlust by re-enacting and emulating
elements of a foreign and socio-politically
superior culture is just one level of pleasurable self actuation. True bliss (dare I use the
French word joissance?) can be achieved by
going deep into the recesses of ones unexplored possibilities: Sex in your sitio over
childish role-playing. While the films evident
theme is the familiarization of the foreign,
its true subject is how the familiar becomes
wondrous. By the time maam Lina starts to
have sex, the boys forget their role playing of
action stars altogether.
But that is where the film stops in its
coming of age, and where it is most revealing
about Filipino-ness. In more politico-economically comfortable cultures, the coming of
age would have come as a reconciliation of

the young characters two opposing worlds

they would give up the childish role playing
and embrace the pleasures of adult life. But
reconciliation of personal incongruities is a
luxury many Filipinos simply cannot afford,
life is just too tough. The film thus ends
brutally, not with a Herman Hesses Emil
Sinclair looking back introspectively, but
with an Intoy apologizing to the memory of
his friends. The film never determines if the
other boys are dead, but Philippine reality
can serve to fill in the gaps to paint the grim
inevitability: Linas husband, a military man
and a Tagalog at that, could easily have the
resources and connections to evade justice.
And temporary insanity in his fit of jealous
rage would make a good defence in court.
Reality is too harsh for personal introspection for the Filipino.
To this extent, Tuban has crafted a very
good story, entertaining on the surface, rich
in subtext, and explosively ended.
But just some notes on the film itself, concerns other than the content. The screenplay
does not establish maam Linas infidelity
enough, so the viewer has to return to the
early part of the film (after being distracted
by the Iskalawags amusing exploits) to
recall the detail understand. Intoys own terrible domestic circumstances, while serving
as good impetus for escapism, was not well

played out in the film, a shame considering

he narrates the film. More telling of the Iskalawags as escape is needed to establish this.
Intoys father was even awkwardly inserted
in the climactic scene, rather inappropriate
for the situation. The music was also not
very authentic: local indie rock would be one
of the last things one would expect to play
on the radios of a rural town, Pinoy reggae
and Pusong Bato would be more believable
(and additionally the last scene of the band
singing adds nothing to the film). Finally,
while all the shots contributed to the set
building (the opening sequence, the shots of
goats, the dogs mating, the beach, and Intoy
changing clothes at one point), many shots
do not add to the storys development, and if
they are too long (as is the case with Intoys
changing of clothes) they can bore viewers
in this otherwise very entertaining film.
Perhaps one good thing though that these
useless shots can do is give time for the
viewer to ruminate, because with its surface
humour Iskalawags has a lot for the Filipino
viewer to think about. This is a fun watch,
and it is evident that the contemplative
would enjoy it more than the casual viewer.

Catch ISKALAWAGS on September

19, 6pm at USC-CAFA Theatre

CAMIRA Jury Prize

This year a CAMIRA Jury Prize will be awarded at the Binisaya Film Festival in the Asian Shorts Section.
CAMIRA (Cinema and Moving Image Research Assembly) is composed of critics, academics, curators and
other practitioners in the domain of cinema and moving image arts. CAMIRA is an association emerging at a moment
when cinema and other moving image practices are undergoing profound structural changes in the domains of
production, dissemination and reception. The association seeks to create adequate responses, critiques and relations
alongside these new and mutating forms, technologies and practices. The multitude of contingencies that insist upon
being accounted for force us to pose the question of our own practices and interrogate what our understanding is
of this endlessly transforming object: is cinema something that is forever becoming, and therefore always inherently
pre-cinematic? Or, is it an historical epoch, a time that has passed and with it the dream of its own being-in-the-world?
It takes an international association to attack the storm of moving images that leaves us unable to remember what to
choose for reflection. To this end CAMIRA is made up of an eminently international council of delegates, secretaries
and boards, dedicated to several productive sectors of the association: festival relations, academic liaisons, an editorial
board for our bi-annual multilingual printed journal as well as a board committed to an equally multilingual blog.
Multilingualism
Along with the multitude of cinemas and moving images we are confronted with (from the incessantly hybrid genres,
the myriad screening platforms/locales, to the conflicting issues surrounding national cinemas) we must also address
the issue of language. In an effort to avoid a monolithic or monological lingua franca, we read and write in dialects, we
communicate in minor and hegemonic languages; like the cinema and its contemporaries we are nationalregional
local.
Multi/Anti-Disciplinary
We are committed to exploring the critical issues of moving images outside the purview of what we call cinema. The
disciplinary limits of cinema push CAMIRA to explore further the emergence of various kinds of cinematic forms in different mediums (television and the internet), new technological interfaces (gadgets and smart phones) as well media
installed in public and private locales (museums, galleries and other non-traditional screening spaces). Cinematic form
has inter-penetrated all layers of the cultural membrane making it imperative for media studies to locate itself within
this multiplicity.
The members of the CAMIRA jury are:
Adrian D. Mendizabals main interest is cinema. He is curently pursuing his degree in MA Media Studies (Film) at
UP Film Institute. His written works appeared in Next Projection.com, MUBI Notebook, Sinekultura Film Journal and
Transit Journal. He still writes in his film blog AUDITOIRE (auditoireonfilm.info).
Richard Bolisay is a graduate of the University of the Philippines Film Institute. In 2007, he has started writing
reviews for his website, Lilok Pelikula (Sculpting Cinema).
A co-programmer of the Tioseco-Bohinc Film Series and .MOV Film, Music, and Literature Festival, he has also
served as a guest critic at the 12th Cinemanila International Film Festival and jury member (for FIPRESCI) at the
38th Hong Kong International Film Festival. He has helped out in several programs of Cinema Rehiyon (as catalog
writer and editor) and Binisaya Film Festival (as guest panelist).
Paul Douglas Grant holds a PhD in Cinema Studies from New York University. He teaches graduate Cinema
Studies at the University of San Carlos, Cebu. He is the translator of Serge Daneys Postcards from the Cinema and
is the editor-in-chief of Sinekultura. He is currently editing a book on Cinema in Cebu for USC Press and finishing a
manuscript on French political film collectives in the 1970s.