Lav Diaz's "Ang Araw Bago ang Wakas" - Up For Interpretation

“In the year 2050, the Philippines braces for the coming of the fiercest storm ever to hit the country. And as the wind and waters start to rage, poets wander the streets.” So goes the blurb for Lav Diaz’s 17-minute short film.

My mind raced back to Dodo Dayao's "Violator" for wasn't the tale set in the midst of a raging storm? The film opens without hint of the future so without the blurb, it could have happened today. 

A mangy dog scavenges the streets of Evangelista (either in Quiapo or in Pavia, Iloilo). A dentist does prophylaxis on the patient. A waiter tends to the customers of a restaurant. A student slouches on a thick book.Despite the warnings, it's just another day in the lives of the people.

Elsewhere, a man starts reciting the third act of Shakespeare's "Hamlet":  "To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer. The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune, Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles, And by opposing end them: to die, to sleep." In steady succession, the poetry goes on: Ophelia (Hamlet's potential wife) comes into the picture. A girl (Hazel Orencio) marches into the scene, sits on a bench and bewails the difficulty she's having: "Kung anu-anong pinagagawa ng director." You'd hear her say. A commentary maybe about the film making process not being a walk in the park?

There's a steel work nearby, and as the night falls, Shakespeare turns... Ilocano? The same girl then recites Mark Antony's speech (Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar") before the market crowd who's mostly oblivious to her ramblings. It felt like Moses warning her brethren about an impending catastrophe. But in the midst of different dialects (yes, dialects, not "languages", excuse me), the exercise is lost in the most unlikely trumpeteers of doom. 

Then the rains come in torrents. Soon, the streets fill with flood. The girl scampers for home, but a shadowy figure follows her. Is the devil trailing her? 

Lav Diaz's short film is a series of seemingly unrelated narrative strings with a "lot" of missing strains thus it's hard to make sense of them. The images are prepossessing. There's the skewed horizon we've grown accustomed to from Diaz's "Mula sa Kung Ano ang Noon" (2014) and the proclivity to offer no explanation. The concluding scenes particularly baffles: From the very wet exteriors, the camera takes us inside a very dry room - well-lighted, and more importantly unimpaired by the cataclysm outside. Then it zooms in on a moth! Voice over: "He arrives silently bringing with him color; and life."  

Though not particularly a satisfying experience, "Ang Araw Bago ang Wakas" (The Day Before the End) is a thought-provoking tale employing incongruent images. It could be a discourse about heeding warnings or the role of destruction to bring forth new life - or both. Wouldn't you be interested in Lav's thoughts on this film (because questions beg to be asked)?

The blurb isn't very appropriate though. The "poets" start to wander the streets before "the wind and waters start to rage". It won the principal prize at the 62nd International Short Film Festival in Oberhausen, Germany last May this year.

Lav Diaz is finally appreciated in his homeland; something that we've wished for him even before he became prominent abroad. His films have found an audience among Filipinos. Who would have thought that "Hele sa Hiwagang Hapis" would get SRO screenings when it opened here? For someone who doesn't believe in lengthy expositions, I love his films. Diaz is a genre all his own. I've seen most of his films. I even like him as an actor, last seen in "Singing in Graveyards". Let's just hope he gets his horizons straight next time. Tee hee. 


#angarawbagoangwakas   #lavdiaz   #shortfilm   #hazelorencio

Bradley Liew's "Singing in Graveyards" - Life Under Scrutiny

Scene opens. Sixty eight year old Pepe stands in front of a mirror naked. He's wrinkly all over, a roadkill of life lived as a silhouette of somebody else's greatness. As the story unravels, we realize that director Bradley Liew has a metaphor to tell. Pepe has been working as an impersonator of legendary rock star Joey Smith for 30 years. And his life goes under scrutiny as he struggles to make ends meet. He navigates his solitary existence playing gigs in clubs with an audience that mostly ignores him. His occasional visits to his married son (Ely Buendia) endures similar fate. He even pays struggling starlet Mercedes (Mercedes Cabral) to sleep "beside" him, but she refuses to be touched. Forget the cash; no way is she allowing him to touch her flesh. This scenario left me with a strange feeling of desolation. I couldn't help it.

"Singing in Graveyards" is an existential exposition that examines the value and dignity of life in the twilight years of a man's existence. When we're reduced to a pitiful and unwanted state, do we surrender to despair? It is admirable how the protagonist doesn't easily give up despite the overwhelming odds. Are we mere reflections of the greatness of others? Louisa May Alcott ("Little Women") once wrote that some people seemed to get all sunshine, and some all shadow. Surely, Pepe has monopoly of the latter. In fact, Pepe's existence is a personification of Alcott's statement.

The film has several scenes that left me breathless, not the least of which was Pepe's visit to the graves of the rock star's former band mates (Sheron, Paolo and Eric of "The Jeeps"), as he implored on their souls to help him compose a love song. But even the dead have no answers for him. When Pepe is offered to open for the comeback concert of rock icon Joey Smith, he suddenly finds his deliverance, one that shall sum up how much his life is worth, 30 years later. 

In a scene that offered a slice of magic realism, the "real" rock star is set aflame inside his van while Pepe looks around the singer's posh house. It was the perfect time for Pepe to claim the life he deserved. He takes a chair by the roadside and sits contentedly, watching from the periphery.   

"Singing in Graveyards" is one of the year's best.   

A Date with Baby Angelo

So I braved the rains to watch another indie - Joel Ruiz's "Baby Angelo" at the Robinson's Galleria.

A fetus well over his first trimester is found buried in the rubble of a garbage dump beside an apartment block. This discovery becomes catalyst to a series of events that gradually hones in on the seemingly humdrum lives of the occupants of Genevieve Homes. In almost glacial pace, we are introduced to a bevy of characters whose personalities are gradually shaped by piece meal vignettes: a landlady who fends to and polices her tenement, a social welfare employee who dotes on his curiously lazy wife, a geriatric who regularly snags provision (soup, food, fruits, flowers) from a mysterious benefactor, a failed medical student and his devoted limpwrist brother, an Indian couple, and – let’s not forget – the happy-go-lucky girls of Room 1F who pollutes the tenement all day long with gratingly bad Karaoke ballads. When a “local” investigation ensues, this multitude of characters begins to unravel into more complex individuals. At the heart of this fact-finding exploration is Bong (Jojit Lorenzo) who is tasked to interrogate the aforementioned. Will they ever find the answers to the mystery surrounding Baby Angelo’s origin?

The first thing that catches your attention about this film is the exquisite photography coupled with a commodious color tone. If at first there is something to complain about this decision to employ an almost monochromatic palette, it gradually becomes obvious that this was setting a cinematic milieu that would help focus the viewer’s attention more on the richness of characters co-habiting in this apartment complex. Soon, these denizens seemed to deserve separate movies of their own. As its narrative winds into a tentative close, the utterly slow middle part of the movie begins to bristle and brew, and each character experiences a degree of metamorphosis, ironically capped by a scene involving a cheerful free make-up session within the tenement. Suddenly, the dour Genevieve Homes transforms into an environment in dire need of colors and make-overs, regardless of how glib and desultory – and superficial – they may be.

To be honest about it, I was fidgeting as the movie draws into its first hour. There were so many individual stories told, but there wasn’t a lot of stuff happening. The lives of the characters seem to fall into an abysmal routine – the boring daily grind of people stuck in their dismal, mediocre lives. And who wants to watch that? But the last 15 minutes or so surprises, as events unravel – for everyone! Suddenly, there’s a flash of inspiration that moves the events. Things happen and situations radically change. Then we are back to where it all started – the garbage! The movie ends and I was thinking, hmmm… how very French! If you’ve seen most of the movies being screened at the current French Film Festival, you will know what I mean.

The performances are topnotch, most notable are Jojit Lorenzo (was never fond of him before), Diana Malahay (who was mediocre in “Tukso” but registers strongly here) and Katherine Luna (Gosh! Now I remember how great she was in “Babae sa Breakwater”).

Then I remember that this is from the same director who megged the cerebral short film, “Mansyon” – and I feel it’s about time that Joel Ruiz fields a full length film at a commercial cinema. After all, IMHO, what is a good filmmaker if he can’t even offer his work to a commercial public. What does a Lav Diaz mean to a film enthusiast like me if I’d need to go to Brussels or France to suffer his 16-hour masterpieces? LOL. His contributions to Philippine cinema becomes absolutely nothing to a Pinoy like me since he seems to prefer to exhibit his works anywhere but the Philippines (except of course those once in a blue moon elitist local film festivals).

Now back to Mansyon, which was a personal favorite during that Cinemalaya season - THAT was also very Frenchy. Very sophisticated – a tightly woven piece of cinema.

I have several trivial questions though about “Baby Angelo” (BA). Were all the actors tasked to learn those creepy jukebox ballads? If BA was a Joel Lamangan flick, would Bong ride into the sunset with Apple? Would Lamangan make Lisa own up to dumping the fetus? Me thinks she friggin has to. LOL. Does Mr. Noel’s entrepreneurial skills involve the ladies of Room 1F? Does Joel Ruiz watch a lot of French films? The answers could be somewhere in the dumpster.