My Vote 2022

President:

Vice President: 

Senator: 

Partylist: 

President - De Guzman #2

Vice President - Bello #2

Senator - Espiritu #26

Partylist - ACT Teachers #81

On Godzilla 2014

Gareth Edward's take is all kinds of brilliant. One of the best films of 2014. Saw it twice. 

It puts the whole thing in a comic book frame. By that, I mean early 2000s comics, where the literature have started moving out of the purple prose of Sandman into something far more practical; which is simply doing the pre-existing genres (superheroes, etc.) well and in a fresher way by 1.) putting them in the moment, 2.) bouncing off their concepts into real world situations, and 3.) finding the enthusiasm from there, with all the fun bits of speculation and hypothetical setups that will entail. Basically celebrate and enjoy what the material is, where all the flight of fancies support its actual purpose, instead of supplant it with something that seems much grander at first glance, yet ends up making the product lesser ( i.e. Ang Lee's 'The Hulk', where its daddy issues ended up with the Hulk beating the shit out of a giant jellyfish).

Fitting, since its only aim is to be a Godzilla film. 

I like how the tsunami and flooding references were just incidental visual details that signal the arrival of Godzilla, than stuff that the movie stops and lingers upon for far too long, until these end up taking over the characters and the plot. The metaphor is still there, and it informs your appreciation and understanding of the monster, but that's for you to pick up as you go along. I mean, there's a seconds-long scene at San Francisco which trumps ALL the 9-11 shit in 'Man of Steel'. 

All of these show how wise this film is as a technical exercise, and how functional it is to its material in a smart way [1]. This is a creature feature film. It doesn't mean we can't be politically and socially aware around it, cannot bring up biology, and amp up its beats with contemporary knowledge and insight. But it is still a creature feature film, and primarily so. And a really great one at that. It trumps a lot of dramas and action pieces in how well it manages its form and content.

Having said that, I can see how people would think the film is a sort of unevenly played out. There is a bloat in this film that goes beyond the notorious fatness of this version's Godzilla.

That bloat is Bryan Cranston. Namely his character and story arc.

These are probably what gave people false impressions of what this movie is, since it ended up being something else. Mainly because it ended up being about bombs and monsters, & power itself. It had nothing to do with rejected scientists and lost wives, or even corporate behavior. His arc seemed to belong to a different draft of the script and was just put in here to give a certain emotional and sociological background to the soldier guy (played by Aaron Taylor Johnson). But we might as well see him dismantling bombs, and start from there.

In fact, the film could have begun with the M.U.T.O.'s first appearance. The M.U.T.O. could have just struck from underneath a random Japanese plant, which sets off the chain of events. Then, you start bringing in all of these protagonists into the story. Dr. Serizawa (played by Ken Watanabe) arrives to investigate, until the U.S. military takes charge. They send in the soldier guy, who's currently stationed at the Okinawa base. The action goes to Honolulu, where things escalate. Then Godzilla arrives. Serizawa is brought to the briefing room where they try and figure what is going on. Then, we get our first clues about the mysterious organization that he works for...

That could have indeed been a tighter film. At the very least, Godzilla's appearance wouldn't have been a 1 hour wait. All that lounging about in San Francisco would have been done away with. There wouldn't have been a lot of complaints about the 'boring', 'two dimensional acting' of the other characters, given how the soldier and his wife spend quite a few minutes just lounging around the house.

Except I never thought their acting was two-dimensional. Rather theirs were of another calibration and wavelength, certainly different from where Bryan Cranston and in fact Juliette Binoche were; both of them play the soldier's scientist parents. They could look as if they were directed from another vantage, from another emotional place, and for a different version of the movie. Juliette Binoche's character dies, when the plant both she and Bryan work for melts down and she gets stuck inside. This gives Bryan's character so much pain. It drives in him an obsession that lasts for 15 years, so much so that he trespasses into a quarantine area, to try and get to the bottom of his wife's death, based off a few electromagnetic readings. 

This story arc is difficult to part with, since it's a very strong one, and is among the parts of the film that really pulls our heartstrings. What it also is, is a crushing domestic drama that is accentuated by a looming existential threat: in this case, a hundred feet monster from the prehistoric ages. One which puts the terror of Godzilla on a truly human and personal scale. You can see how someone like Frank Darabont could have ran with this[2]. That arc has Stephen King written all over it. Of course, this leads to certain expectations as to where the film must go, and how we expect its actors to behave.

And that's where the dissonance begins: Bryan Cranston's arc is for the heart, while the rest is for the adrenaline.

The rest of the cast delivers on that end by focusing the viewers on their actions more than their feelings. When they speak, it is mainly to bring up certain bits of information that will help them move across the set pieces. Nothing too tangential to the overarching incident, such as private grievances that are more or less ignored by the movie. It's like these characters only serve to accommodate the appearance of the monsters, and are expected to adjust their acting, so that they do not overwhelm it and instead give it stature. Again, 'creature feature'.

I am not particularly resentful towards that arc, though, and I don't think this film would be a better one without it. In fact, I've found a newfound appreciation for it.

First, is it leads to a nice subversion of the norm. I actually think that the dissonance is quite novel. It's jarring to the viewer, and it thus gets their attention. They may not like it, but they will think it, and may even have a few things said about it. Also, I like how the film unfolds into a whole another thing I wasn't expecting, rather than being set in stone from the get go. Your typical disaster message film here evolves into a monster battle. From ponderous grimdark Hollywood to a flat-out Toho picture, yet with A-level cast and production values all throughout. That manages to be both a humble and ambitious proposition at the same time. The dissonance is what makes you sense that.

Second is that it offers a nice metatextual conceit. The obvious one is the resemblance to a chrysalis, where that 'docudrama' incubates and hatches a whole another cinematic beast, a.k.a. the kind you paid money to see this for, similar to the transformation of the M.U.T.O.s in this picture. Seriously though, it's how it anchors the level of scale the director intended for the picture within the structure of the plot. 

Sure it would be a lot more efficient to start with the soldier dismantling bombs, and cap it all of with him staring at the embodiment of nuclear fear. Yet it would make his arc much smaller. Same deal with the rest of the movie. Adding his father's storyline makes this more of a generational tale, than a mere incident. It adds breadth and depth to the plot details, by spacing out the story and expanding the sociological landscape of the soldier lead, where it involves stories more than that of himself. 

This also serves to properly dwarf the soldier, as being merely consequent to the journey and the experience his father has made. His father managed to spend his life researching the monstrosity, while he's just here to minimize the damage. It also works in reverse, by casting Cranston's pissings here as minuscule, compared to the containment missions and the escalating global scenario (the fact it was all swiftly done with around the end of the first act brings this to bear). This all feeds not only its narrative approach with regards to the gargantuans, but also to the particular worldview that governs it: that we are a minuscule species and our dramas are insignificant in the face of tectonic plates. That would not have been made apparent had there been none of that 'human drama' as a point of reference.

Sure, that arc may be extraneous, but that is kind of part of the deal. I mean, we might as well ask why the director had to frame the mines in extreme wide angle shots, when he could just zoom right at the entrance? Why did he have to resort to computers to achieve the look of the cheaper rubber suit? Why is Godzilla hundreds of feet when he can be a microbial cloud? Why he had all these cameras when he can just use the DSLR? 

Why are we even making movies in the first place?

  - Carlo Cielo 

[1] This is kind of reminiscent in a way of how Warren Ellis just gets down to business with his superhero comics and his animated take on G.I. Joe, 'G.I. Joe: Resolute'; where the characters are way colder and less emotional, and where he doesn't even bother to show you their home lives. Which is about fine. You expect these characters to go in, do their job, and get out, and you expect the shows and cartoons to do the same. Of course, the job can be done so well that you are provided with added angles and ideas about the world and how you view the several facets of it.

[2] Frank Darabont was brought in to do a rewrite of the script, and has in fact been given credit for the meltdown scene. He is the famed writer and director of Stephen King's 'The Mist'.

My Vote 2016

President:




Vice-President:




Senator:






















Partylist:





President - Duterte #3
Vice President - Cayetano #1
Senator - Colmenares #11
Partylist - Kabataan #55

MMFF Reviews 2012 : El Presidente

Here's the thing: I didn't hate this movie. 

It wasn't as bad as I expected, and not the type of bad I thought it would be. 

 Well, there were vestiges. Mark Meily's condescending treatment of the masses is sprinkled all throughout ( they're either victims, traitors, or background detail ), as is his historic contempt towards the Philippine Left. You may even sense that he doesn't believe in the Filipino's ability to win freedom, much less independence. 

That is if one bothers to read into it. And I'm not sure it's worth the effort. It was done wiht such 'distance' and 'ambiguity' - a.k.a. indifference - that it can be taken in any which way. It might even seem like a provocation. 

Same thing with his treatment of Aguinaldo. While ER Ejercito doesn't exactly bungle his job here, he doesn't shoot for the stars either. His performance is so uptight that it flatlines, with very little space for unintentional laughs. In fact he's so wrapped up in his own celebrity, that the filmmaking steps all over him. Meily puts in so much surrealisms in his story, that he starts to appear like an unreliable narrator; a delusional madman at worst, since a lot of those surrealisms aren't particularly successful. They are so atonal, and so out of place, they're a realm all their own. They look ridiculous that way, sticking like a sore thumb from the otherwise textbook approach of the film. 

But at least he's not excessively glorified. He's not the military superman like some of his apologists would allege. Rather, a lot of his successes were achieved by an undue advantage : he was a part of the establishment already. You can see how Tikoy Aguiliz ( who was supposed to direct this ) could have taken off with that. 

Plus, Andres Bonifacio looms like a titan in this picture. I don't remember any other Filipino film that gives him this level of stature ( well, besides 'Supremo', which I haven't seen ), other than a whiny nincompoop, or a laughingstock. Instead, he's treated with reverence here, even by ER's Aguinaldo, as the unequivocal leader of the Revolution, whose shadow the Katipuneros struggle against. So much so, that his fate feels like a bad omen that dooms their very enterprise. Even as it's never spoken of again, explained away like bad trapo PR. 

In fact, if there are historical figures that come out of this clean, it's the Macapagals : both former president ( and father of jailed ex-president Gloria Arroyo ) Diosdado Macapagal, and the Macapagal who put the bullet in Bonifacio's head - who doesn't put the bullet in his head here. Not to draw conclusions, but Mark Meily did mock the anti-ZTE-NBN protests in his show 'Camera Cafe'. Make of that what you will. 

And that's the thing : Some good, some bad. The Americans are frightening in this picture. The San Juan scene is harrowing in its simplicity, easily one of the best staged historical recreations in Philippine film. Christopher Deleon also gives I think his finest performance as the fascist Antonio Luna, where he's a character and not Christopher De Leon. There was a point where this could have really provoked debate, and made people discuss their revolutionary history.

But all that was undermined as soon as Nora Aunor shows up in the picture. Trust me when I say that her appearance is pointless, jarring, and unnecessary. 

Still, we should be glad that films like this get made that isn't yet another Rizal movie. 

I'm giving 'El Presidente' 2.25 out of 5. 

MMFF Reviews 2012 : Student Shorts

1.) Kinse - Philbert Dy of Click The City is right; more a showreel of what      

            the filmmakers will do, and where Filipino action could lead, in

            terms of the actual action. Story is a retreat to familiar

            territory. The goons look pretty badass, though. 2.5/5

2.) Tagad - Good flick about skateboarding. Slick production values and

             cinematography. Use of mounted cameras helped the

             storytelling, and wasn't a stunt. It just didn't lead into much of

             anything. Third act is missing, though the ending's

             abruptness maybe the point of the whole thing. 3/5 

3.) Ritwal -  Use of activist iconography is well...nice. Needs a rewatch,

              but felt pleasant enough for a 3/5.

4.) Rolyo - Urian-Award Nominated 'Liyab'. Crappy version. 1/5 

5.) Obsesyon - Okay crime flick that was hampered by iffy acting and the

                   old ways. Could have edited out some parts, so it stuck

                   with the provocation of its premise. But the filmmakers

                   don't seem to be concerned with challenging perceptions

                   or changing  minds, much as reducing everything to

                   police blotter. Though the procedural mindset is most

                   welcome, a clean break in this current era of 'ahrt'.

                  So, more of an interesting artifact of where the Mowelfund

                  of Roxlee is now at, and that is sheltering the former

                  'mainstream' its alums ousted. That's a paradigm shift

                   there. 2.75/5 

6.) Sonata - Drama that was actually served by its technical

              inadequacies, giving grit and unease to its pathos. 3.5/5

7.) Tsansa – Bad sound. 2/5

8.) Manibela - MNL 143 on drugs. Not sure if that's a compliment. But

                 Good God is this movie fucked up. 3/5

9.) Pukpok - Highly recommended. 4.5/5 

Taking Back Our Geography

" To occupy mendiola is to assume our place in history-- to activate the space as political and to make it as a platform of our shared aspirations and collective imagination.It is not just all about being in/ at place. it is about the becoming of social change and political intervention. The paranoia and the anxiety of the 1% is to witness that we will once more gather because they know that we are right and they refuse to admit that neoliberal capitalist system have failed. to occupy mendiola necessitates the body as 'the technology of the weak' . The body afterall is tranformed by the dominant social order as obsolete and docile. What use of it, other than going beyond and making it as our technology towards social justice.

For the longest time, our collective aspirations are being dispersed and cracked down by the system. They make us individualists by offering a capitalist utopia of consumerism as personal freedom, spectacle and simulcra through corporatist mediagenics and experience economy. To occupy is the space clearing of the dominant system (a la kaingin system ba) and provide us, the 99% the breathing space for our collective aspirations and dreams.

By occupying mendiola on December 6, we become the cartographers of our collective destinies and destination-- registering our voice in the geographies of em-power-ment and struggle. 2 cents "
- Clod Winter Sun Yambao, Facebook Status, Dec. 2, 2011

“ Unmaking Reality: On the Russian Montage and German Expressionism in ‘Battleship Potemkin’ & ‘Dr. Caligari’ ”

by Carlo Cielo



The ‘10s and ‘20s saw the rise of several epochs in world filmmaking; each representing a facet of invention that was sweeping the medium. Cinema was moving away from being a novelty, or a new configuration of a pre-existing tech. It wasn’t enough that it’s a camera that could capture action, or shoot trains as they appear. It wasn’t merely that of moving pictures; but that which is moving them. This was also immediately following the First World War, the most devastating event in history at that point. Countries were exhausted of their resources as much as their power, putting thousands upon thousands of people into the fray. Past securities have been put to the test, as the preexisting order have been found to be wanting,. Someone will surely have to go there in the field, and shoot the ensuing chaos.

No one of course was spared from the unraveling. Russia was virtually drained of all its forces and capabilities to such a point that both soldiers and civilians rebelled. The once formidable Tsarist regime was overthrown, and a new thinking and platform was elevated and put, front and center. Germany, meanwhile, was driven down to such astounding lengths, as the weight of guilt and culpability was brought upon it. Reparations were demanded, devaluing its economy into near starvation, while it struggles with its status as a diminishing empire. Thus, no other film scenes were as profoundly affected as the ones in these countries, as evident in the best of their material.



Russia’s ‘Battleship Potemkin’ was, in fact, a postscript to a victory; in the same way that ‘Les Miserables’ was an ode to an eventual upheaval. Albeit beleaguered, the stories still carry a euphoric vibe about them, served by the author's position of being able to write about these things after the fact. The imposing former order was surmounted. The need then was to integrate this development into one’s being from here on, and to keep on propelling its dynamic everyday.To pack in the comprehensiveness of this fervor, and to configure it such that it could stoke a continuity of action across generations. Much as there is an imperative to account for the several agents and moments that has contributed to such geopolitical result. Certainly, there wasn't a single protagonist in the thing. Hence, the portrayal of the travails of the disaffected, the detailing of their conditions, the key factors that stoked their reply, only precluding the possibility of such insurrections, as much as their inevitability. So, the tragedies served more as object lessons to past mistakes.


For example, the navy men of ‘Battleship Potemkin’ were deprived and humiliated day by day, with rotten meat and rancid environs, their inhuman exploitation to the level of indenture. And for what ? An empire that is brutal and simply doesn’t care, and doesn’t hesitate to pit brother against brother, and shoots its own people. An empire which exists only for itself, and away from culpability, wielding power that should be in the hands of the many, who ought to be ruling their own lives. To articulate all this properly would demand the rethinking of editing a reel, and the selections and arrangements of scenes, to show not just a single moment or narrative in a linear sort of way, but a whole spectrum of events, of actions and reactions, leading up to this point, with their respective protagonists and actors, most of which are from the ordinary tier, the masses who truly forge a reality.



This is what necessitates the sequencing of the Odessa Steps scene, with the Tsarist soldiers marching on and conducting its massacre. A thing like this doesn’t inconvenience a single person, or a lead, but devastates an entire population, a plethora of peoples, from a baby rolling down a stairs, and a nurse who loses her eye, each of which are equally as significant in the larger scheme of things, and the ensuing response which would take these on a whole another level. These ‘cutaway’ moments should thus be integrated into the flow of the scene reel. Which aren’t the stops and starts that they would often seem, but are only a given in the kinesics of upheaval. Something the Soviet montage makes people acknowledge as a possibility.



The German Expressionism in Dr. Caligari, meanwhile, evokes a kind of inevitability in stasis; even a primal thirst for it. But it is not a happy stasis. The film shows this in both in its aesthetic and narrative. The story is told through the flashbacks of our lead Frank, who in turn tells of a show runner who is possibly involved in psychopathic acts. An old man goes in fairs displaying a somnambulist who foretells other people’s fates, yet one he in fact commands to put decisive ends on them. It was only a matter of time ‘til this ends up in a string of murders. The investigation leads into an asylum, revealing not only its director as suspect, but also his obsession with a similar myth in the 18th century about the same bunch of characters, the same modus operandi. The somnambulist is found, and the director is soon arrested and confined to a room in his own asylum, and everything in the world seems to have finally been made right. Then, the flashback ends. We have then borne witness to a lie of an insane man, who only has trepidations about the director of his asylum.



There is a palpable need for an order in this movie, for it to stay right and true this once, to keep things together. To not fall into the same instability and uncertainty of the barely constituted, of those who have not in any way kept right, and have hopelessly strayed into the far edge. Yet this soon proves to be very futile, as there will always be factors that will unsettle it, and bend and twist its modularity, which may seem to be beyond one’s control and have not been evident earlier. Such has been epitomized by the distorted geographies of the film’s scenes, the jagged edges of its structural improbabilities, and the mangled trait of its nature. One should put in mind the fact that the same things remain past the flashback’s sequence, into the so-called real world part of the proceedings, and even with the dissidents holed up together in a room, and put into ‘study’ like they apparently should be.


*****

These film movements are interesting for what they say about humanity, yet more about how fading empires respond and react to a consuming cataclysm, and the world being twisted from underneath them. Which calls upon, of course, a set of new questions. Namely, should one stay, or should one go ? Should one strive to keep the status quo, in all the stresses this inflicts to oneself, or should they junk a status quo instead, expunging all its madness, instead of succumbing to it ?

The point in these questions is not to simply explore the modes of a reality. The point, as always, is to change it.