SARI-SARING SINENG PINOY

     In the Digital Age, an era dominated by rapidly evolving information technology, it is hard to imagine how pieces of our cinematic legacy could disappear forever. After all, audiovisual materials can be digitized and saved using a cloud-based online video storage provider or for those of us who prefer tangible, local data storage to servers in off-site locations — on DVDs, external hard drives or flash drives. And once you have a digital copy, it will last forever, right? Well, not exactly. Digital archiving is not the answer to this ongoing problem of deteriorating film stock and lost titles. Digital storage media, none of them last a fraction as long as celluloid negatives and prints kept in cool, dry, cared-for archives. The “cloud” isn’t the answer and the pie-in-the-sky possibilities suggest that the process of migrating preserved digital copies of historically significant material will be ongoing as technology evolves in ever faster cycles. Much of our filmed history and cinema has already been lost forever. Estimates on the number of lost films vary, most of the films made roughly 100 years ago are lost. The number of films currently in need of preservation is overwhelming, particularly when considering the complexity and cost of professional restoration. If moving images survive, live on and remain accessible in our days it is due to the efforts of dedicated individuals who have worked against time, trying to rescue films regardless of their commercial value. Film degrades. If it’s not provided continuous maintenance and stored at a target temperature, the celluloid will degrade and become unwatchable.  

     Besides preserving decaying film before it disintegrates and tracking down lost movies, archivists have broadened the perception and the scope of the accepted film canon through the discovery of lost treasures. For restorers, preservation too often involves the difficult decision of what can be saved. In the Philippines, the humidity and the lack of funding pose formidable challenges, making restoration of existing work a luxury. Loss is the foundation of archiving. If you’ve experienced the loss of a cinematic gem, the fervent goal is to prevent such casualties. With every lost film, there’s more lost history. And what’s been found and restored opens our eyes. All restoration projects start with research like finding the best elements that still exist whether the original camera negative or the best generation available. The copies are compared, frame by frame and the restorer takes the best essence to make a hybrid. Physical repairs are made frame by frame using digital technology. The original filmmakers, if still available, are always consulted. The film may be restored digitally but it will be preserved on analog. The goal is to restore, not to perfection but to what the film probably looked like when it first came out. Film must be preserved, saved, and above all, shown. The influence of old films on new filmmakers is incalculable. If we’re ever to learn from the past — a big if, but perhaps it’s still too early to surrender to despair then their work matters and in the purest sense, its preservation is of the deepest political consequence. Through films we bear witness to atrocities and wonders, crimes against humanity and everyday joys. We learn where we came from and see what we dream of. 

     Made in low-key, vérité style, writer/director TM Malones favors an austere approach that relies on long, unblinking takes, uses no music that doesn’t occur within the action itself. Remote lands are often treasure boxes full of local lore. Set in Gigantes Island, an island chain within the larger Western Visayas archipelago in the Visayan Sea, Salum (Dark Media Productions, Bonfire Productions, Filmpost Studios, Puregold Cinepanalo Film Festival, 2025) uses complex aesthetic combinations of camera and light to infuse its beauty by combining poetic imagery with diegetic conversation. Malones' living tableaus seem almost expressionistic, capturing informal portraits of Kasko (Allen Dizon) and daughter Arya (Chiristine Mary Demaisip) through gesture. Salum locates the richness in its simplicity, offering such tender moments as the living treasures Kasko finds in the ocean depths. The underwater scenes play with a bloc of soft muffled tones, often bestowing a preternatural sensuousness to the lush, rippling images, both instinctive and carefully considered. Salum’s washed-out palette pop against the deep blue, almost as though one were looking through a viewfinder. Malones' light seems veiled and diffused, at times overwhelming in its beguiling intensity. Rather than the clichéd pinscreen of the tiny human figure dwarfed by nature, Malones favors closer shots that align humans and the environment challenging romantic notions with his camera. Isolated with the father-daughter pair freed from worldly concern or by the image of a frustrated Kasko diving into the murky depths of the ocean, Salum produces such resonant images at a pace that belies the more relaxed rhythms of its story. 

     The director has a keen eye for blocking, carefully composing some shots so we have to rely on reflections and background figures. Dizon's magnetic performance brings to life one of the greatest depictions of flawed fatherhood in recent memory, as he brims with both an ineffaceable warmth and an endearing ruggedness. Dizon’s Kasko is far from the perfect dad, but we are drawn into his concerted effort to not only be a great parent but a best friend to his daughter. Demaisip’s Arya radiates with an innate curiosity, as her expressive, yet understated performance perfectly captures the sheer multitude of what Kasko means to her—and the profound impact it will have on her. Simply put, it’s one of the strongest performances in recent years. Salum excels off its two dynamic performances, taut direction and lush cinematography. It’s no surprise that it all beautifully coalesces in a cathartic swell of emotions that crashes down on its audience with immense power, unearthing all the faint and fleeting images we have of the people who mean the most to us. It truly is an astonishing achievement. Events play out at an unhurried pace, but the film certainly leaves a lasting emotional impression. Salum is left open-ended and that’s a perfect conclusion to this portrait of a father and daughter relationship. Deftly constructed and utterly heartbreaking, Salum announces Malones as an eminent storyteller of prodigious powers.

Director of Photography: TM Malones

Production Designer Kyle Fermindoza

Editor: Tara Illenberger

Sound Design: Fatima Nerikka Salim, Immanuel Verona

Music By: Armor Rapista

Written & Directed By: TM Malones

     There was a time when you couldn’t see classics such as Himala, Oro, Plata, Mata and Manila by Night. Now, these films are just a click away. But will a cinephilic culture continue to surround them? Does it matter if that culture continues to shrink as long as it’s enthusiastic? In the realm of film history appreciation, the reverse seems to be true, more films are being saved and restored than ever before. It remains an open question how many people will continue to watch them over time. Cinephiles get excited about the ability to access a range of classic movies that they often forget who gets alienated in the process. But if you were to drop the average layperson looking to learn more about film history into its offerings, let alone the classic film titles available they might get lost in the sheer amount of choices available. As the history of film expands, there will be a flattening of values. Some films continue to live on because of previous critical momentum. But as more people become less conversant in the language of classic Filipino films, the qualities that make them exceptional will most likely become increasingly obscure. Streaming sites need content that can serve the function of keeping users glued to their screens. Dwell time means engagement and revenue. The goal is to keep you occupied for hours and to keep you coming back. 

     These days, if there are enough celluloid assets of a movie, there is no excuse for them to ever become lost. The technology just didn’t exist to digitize them. The time required and cost of these restorations keeps coming down. Before, it could take up to a year to restore a film, now they can be done much, much faster. There’s no reason to think that trending direction is going to change. We’re in a golden age of film restoration, because now we’re able to see these films look better than they ever have. They’re scanning original negatives, if they can be found, at 4K resolution making us see all the little details. Now, it is an incredible time to be discovering older cinema. And that’s actually part of the reason these titles will remain accessible. Studios with major libraries have preservation budgets, but this new impulse toward volume means those budgets aren’t going away as long as the current streaming model exists. Viva Films and FPJ Productions are preserving their entire library. Every title may not get a full restoration, but they are digitally enhanced with a new high definition master. ABS-CBN Film Restoration package archive titles and remaster them while creating new artwork and extras. Today’s drive toward film preservation and restoration has been catalyzed by filmmakers singing the praises of movies that influenced them. And rising filmmakers need to know about the classics to fuel their own visions. There’s a certain amount of rules that come with the craft of filmmaking. Filmmakers won’t know whether or not something has been done before, unless they study Philippine cinema history.

     Lino Brocka finds the right tone in Dalaga si Misis, Binata si Mister (PLG Films, 1981) and it’s not always very easy because he wants to make his film both true and funny, not sacrificing laughs for the truth. But what was the right tone? Armed with Jose Dalisay Jr.'s screenplay, Brocka delivers an exceedingly (and sometimes excessively) subdued endeavor that benefits from its assortment of first-class performances and there’s little doubt, certainly, that Christopher de Leon handles his character, Dick Navarro quite gracefully, wearing an impenetrable, guarded expression and playing everything very close to the vest. Nora Aunor’s completely captivating work as Dick’s ex standing as a continuing highlight within the proceedings. She is undoubtedly responsible for the picture’s most indelible, show stopping moment, as Doria attempts to win her husband back. The oddest thing about Dalaga si Misis, Binata si Mister is how many small things about it are needlessly thoughtful and complex, even though the film is mainly a very simple if well-made example of what adult entertainment looked like in the 80s. The entire film is spent showing how Doria and Dick navigate both their mixed emotions and strong attraction to one another. Dalaga si Misis, Binata si Mister manages to be fast and funny while it breaks new ground. There's a kernel of truth here. There are a lot of good laughs, too. And there is also an important problem, but it doesn't manifest itself until the story is well under way. It gives us the release we need and sets Aunor’s personality for the movie’s second act with scenes of loneliness and the beginning of emotional recovery. Brocka isn’t afraid to pull out all the romantic stops at the right moment. He wants to record the exact textures and ways of speech and emotional complexities of his characters. 

     Carmi Martin delivers a particularly sharp characterization during the first part of the story and unconvincing in the second, through no fault of her own. Nervous, demanding, high-strung and nevertheless charming, her Laila is all wrong for Dick — that's what makes their affair so unexpectedly touching and gives the story so much life. When the movie begins to insist that these two were made for each other, it gives the lie to all that has gone before. This feeling is intensified by the fact that neither character changes much during the course of the story. It doesn't help that the only amorous interludes occur very early on. Aunor takes chances here, never concerned about protecting herself and reveals as much in a character as anyone ever has. Doria is out on an emotional limb. New lovers dreading ex-wives must invariably summon someone like Aunor to mind. She is letting us see and experience things that many actresses simply couldn’t reveal. It’s a lesson for critics on the dangers of assessing performance in a movie, a medium in which the actors may be more at the mercy of the other craftspersons than we can readily realize. Rather than solely embodying the strength and confidence of a single protagonist, Dalaga si Misis, Binata si Mister mobilizes Doria’s arc as a signifier of feminist freedom without becoming didactic or trite. De Leon's performance begins very well and very seriously — all the laughs are built around him and he reacts calmly and cannily with an eye toward self-preservation. When Doria and Laila finally turn up in the same place, though, it's time for Dick to show the strain or to show the conflict, or to show something, De Leon lies low. Brocka perfects the ending by de-centering his perspective and the audience-centric satisfaction of a nihilistic open-ended conclusion, allowing the protagonist the final say regarding her personal satisfaction.

Screenplay: Jose Dalisay Jr.

Based on a Story By: Efren Abueg (Serialized in Liwayway Magazine)

Director of Cinematography: Conrado C. Baltazar, F.S.C.

Music: Rey Valera

Film Editor: Efren Jarlego

Production Design: Joey Luna (P.D.G.P)

Sound Supervision: Rolly Ruta

Directed By: Lino Brocka

 

     If the broad, life-affirming outlines of In His Mother's Eyes (7K Entertainment, 2023) are familiar to the point of banality, in the hands of actors as gifted as Maricel Soriano, Roderick Paulate and LA Santos, this tale of sacrifice and sibling rivalry achieves moments of real poignancy and power. There are few things as hard to play as genuine selflessness, but Paulate, without a trace of sanctimony, makes Bibs' goodness utterly natural. You can see why Santos's Tim would find comfort in his Uncle Bibs. He's rooted in the present and open to experience in ways his mother will never know. Soriano, all edges and nervous, guilty motion, makes us believe in Lucy's transformation without going soft. She's tough and abrasive, and she'll stay one. It's rare to see a film with such honest, transparent emotion and to spend time with actors who don't feel the need to cloak intimate feelings in irony. Paulate is especially moving, perhaps in part because we know him primarily as a comedian and forget all the tender emotional values he brings to drama. Soriano's ability to transform herself is remarkable. She manages to portray a quiet strengthIn without ever letting you doubt that her character is very ill. In point of fact, Tim's autism isn't really the story's main concern. Writers Jerry Gracio and Gina Marissa Tagasa are more interested in the relationship between Lucy and Bibs, and Tim's relationship with the world in general. Director FM Reyes overworks the close-ups, hits too many notes on the head, but he knows enough not to get in the way of his three superb stars, who put on a display of emotional fireworks that is lovely to behold. 

     In His Mother's Eyes has a child whose behavior is unpredictable. With a rich vein of bleak humor, the film is about the healing power of sacrifice. In His Mother’s Eyes has so much star power. The famous faces make it difficult, at first to sink into the story, but eventually we do. The characters become so convincing that even if we’re aware of Soriano and Paulate, it’s as if these events are happening to them. Once Lucy and Bibs are reunited, the material boils down into a series of probing conversations. There is a lot to say and Reyes lets them say it. How do families fall apart? Why do many have one sibling who takes on the responsibilities of maintaining the family home, while others get away as far as they can? Is one the martyr and the other taking advantage? Or does everyone get the role they really desire? What In His Mother's Eyes argues is that Lucy by fleeing the home, may have shortchanged herself and that Bibs might have benefitted. Or perhaps not, perhaps Lucy was better off keeping out of the way. There is a point in the film where such questions inspired parallel questions in my own mind. All families have illness and death, and therefore all families generate such questions. The true depth of In His Mother's Eyes is revealed in the fact that the story is not about these questions. They are incidental. The film focuses instead on the ways Lucy and Bibs deal with their relationship–which they both desperately need to do–and the way Tim learns something, however haphazardly, about the difference between true unhappiness and the complaints of childhood. This emotionally affecting drama makes the point that the love we give to others is the only thing that makes life worth living. In His Mother's Eyes is full of complex, well-observed emotion and gives us the rare satisfaction of respecting its characters, forgiving their flaws and contradictions and celebrating their capacity to love.

A Film By: FM Reyes

Screenplay: Jerry Gracio, Gina Marissa Tagasa

Directors of Photography: Neil Daza, LPS, Rap Ramirez

Production Design: Marxie Maolen F. Fadul

Editor: Vanessa Ubas de Leon

Music Composed By: Carmina Robles-Cuya

Sound Design: Albert Michael M. Idioma, Garem Roi B. Rosales