AMOROUS FISSION

     Romance, so I’m to understand the term (and I don’t), is predicated on petite, strategic lies. It’s the confluence of many different slightly altered postures and highly self-moderated presentations, all calculated to either aid or discourage further amorous fission. It means that the person one falls in love with isn’t necessarily the person one has fallen in love with and vice versa. But we know this all too well, otherwise we wouldn’t expect something different and exciting from our fictions, both real and imagined. The quintessential tenet of romantic movies is that they feature characters who are either kept apart by their own deceptions or brought together by their total, yielding allowance of casting aside all that bullshit and opening up to another kindred soul. We eat that up, all the more voraciously for knowing it isn’t so simple. And so when it comes to real life, we spend as much time constructing the barriers as we do peering around them to see who’s on the other side and we wonder why everyone else is doing the same thing.

     Laurice Guillen's Kasal? (Trigon Cinema Arts, 1980) uses flashbacks to chart two days worth of push-pull surrounding the wedding, back and forth with revelation and evasion. But, this being fiction, is mostly revelation. Joel (Christopher de Leon) and Grace's (Hilda Koronel) conversations appear to have all the hallmarks of research both can file away for next time, but Grace's deck outburst gives it away. She’s intending to get  Joel emerge from his shell. And emerge he does, from there, the lovers connect again and again, physically, emotionally, intellectually. They invariably swim with the current of the whirlpool and are carried closer and closer to that holy grail of total, mutual understanding. The longer you spend inside Kasal?, the more its fictions seem apparent. De Leon and Koronel along with Jay Ilagan and Chanda Romero are, of course, incredibly attractive people who, despite their characters’ hang-ups and foibles, are approachable and easy to watch. But Mario O'Hara’s screenplay isn’t just perceptive to these fictions, it shows how they function in reality, narrowing the gap between the movie’s idealized representation and its audience’s own capacity to do the same. It’s nearly as galvanizing as the moment Grace finally opens up. It’s in moments like these that Kasal? nudges fantasy just a little bit closer to reality.    

     The high definition (1.67:1 aspect ratio) presentation offers a fairly decent scan with age restraining some clarity on the viewing experience. Detail is soft and while cinematographic limitations are present, sharpness feels dull, leading to only passable textures on close-ups and set decoration. Colors are equally unremarkable, skintones are somewhat bloodless and costuming lacks vibrancy even with party outfits. Delineation isn't troublesome, but never exquisite. Source is in decent shape. The 2.0 sound mix doesn't offer the type of theatrical clarity the film deserves, as age had its way with the track, resulting in a tinny, sometimes muddy listening event. Dialogue exchanges aren't where they need to be, with periodic intelligibility issues, especially when characters mumble. Sound effects are hard on the ears, but not that sharp. Some hiss is detected throughout. It's fascinating to watch Guillen's style take shape, there's provocative and passionate work here for study.


Screenplay: Mario O'Hara

Production Design: Mel Chionglo

Cinematography: Ricardo Remias

Film Editor: Efren Jarlego

Musical Director: Jun Latonio

Sound Supervision: Rolly Ruta

Directed By: Laurice Guillen

STAGGERING POWER


     Himala (Experimental Cinema of the Philippines, 1982) directed by Ishmael Bernal is a powerful and successful experiment in minimalism. Ricardo Lee’s screenplay takes on a documentary aesthetic, following characters as nothing of consequence is happening. There is great emotional resonance to the film, particularly in a handful of immensely powerful key scenes. Nora Aunor's critics claimed that she did nothing and played a bland character. While these claims are utterly unfounded, it's not hard to see where they stem from. Elsa spends most of the film being swayed by the currents of other character's desires. She almost doesn't feel like a protagonist due to her passiveness. Yet Aunor plays Elsa with immense authenticity. Perhaps it's because of the similarities between actress and character. Her role is a perfect example of an actress not being given the credit she deserves because of passiveness. Aunor's acting is almost masked by her naturalness in the role. It is the best performance Bernal has ever directed. Elsa speaks more than a sentence or two at a time and says nothing at all about life in the village or her childhood. But Elsa remains a cipher, her interests and experiences, her inner life, inaccessible. The spoken word is not cinema's most powerful tool. As anyone in the field knows all too well, cinema developed originally as a mute medium, dependent on images and editing to convey meaning. Himala is entirely structured around Elsa's point of view and this is the narrative paradigm that drives the film. I therefore have a hard time accepting the view that it silences Elsa, despite her demeanor. Aunor's lack of pretense, the naturalism with which she embodies this character is astounding. Elsa is a stoic but complex woman who witnessed hardship largely silently, but when she speaks, she is resplendant. Her final monologue showed she's reflexive, more aware about her motives and mixed emotions than all the other characters. 

     I think it is fair to say that time has not been kind to Himala. It is also fair to say that there wasn't a whole lot the restoration team could do to have the film look better than it does. Clearly, there are a number of limitations with the existing master which they had to work with. Some close-ups look quite pleasing, but elsewhere the image is rather soft and textures are problematic. Clarity, however, is mostly adequate and with a few minor exceptions, contrast levels seem stable. Some extremely light grain has been retained, but it is quite inconsistent and mixed up with light noise. The good news is that there are no traces of serious post-production sharpening. Unsurprisingly, the film does have a pleasing organic look. It is often weak but nevertheless a preferable one. Finally, some small damage marks and tiny horizontal lines are occasionally present, but I assume they could not have been removed without dramatically affecting the integrity of the image. All in all, considering ABS-CBN Film Restoration's strong record and dedication to high quality presentations, I think it is fair to speculate that this is likely the best Himala could look at the moment. Generally speaking, the dialog is crisp, stable and easy to follow. The few sequences where the music becomes prominent are also convincing. There is, however, some light background noise that occasionally pops up here and there. It is definitely not distracting, but its presence is certainly felt. There are those who diminished the turn as a non-performance, but they are sorely mistaken. Aunor's work is of staggering power and it is without question, one of her best. 


Screenplay: Ricardo Lee

Music: Winston Raval

Director of Photography: Sergio Lobo

Production Designer: Raquel N. Villavicencio

Film Editor: Ike Jarlego, Jr.

Sound Supervision: Vic Macamay

Directed By: Ishmael Bernal