The function of remembrance is an enigma in Yung Libro sa Napanood Ko (Viva Films, Whiskey Marmalade, 2023) which is small and domestic. Bela Padilla (credited as Bela) wisely expands the themes of personal memory to include collective memory as well, though it’s essentially a love story, Yung Libro sa Napanood Ko is grounded in the mechanics of human interaction, thought, repression, denial and acceptance. The film holds incredible promise for writer-director Padilla, evoking stylistic simplicity and emotional complexity. Normally an actress, she conveys a pondering despair. We see great concentration on the space between individuals and the emptiness left inside. Padilla's deceptively simple direction suggests her place resides behind the camera, even though her career thus far has been in front of it. Yung Libro sa Napanood Ko is not an all-out stylistic embrace, but rather a sleight influence in tone. Characters seem to converse and evoke delicate emotions with their silence. Padilla says something profound by hardly saying anything, but allowing us to see how devastating it is to forget so much about one’s self. As Lisa Villamor, a succesful book author and a K-Drama fan, Padilla can seem lost one moment but then, as an intention pierces through her cloud of unhappiness, becomes crisp and incisive. The fading of memory, the mixture of loyalty and selfishness, these are not subjects you would expect a young filmmaker to understand or even to take much interest in. Yet, Yung Libro sa Napanood Ko is a small-scale triumph that could herald a great career. In general, she works close to her actors and is confident enough to let scenes remain ambiguous—the meanings build slowly, by accretion. Apart from a few scenes, Padilla tells the story from Kim Gun Hoo's point of view in the person of Korean actor Min Gon Yoo. Gun Hoo loves Lisa, he finds a way for personal survival and a love for someone lost to flourish together.
Yung Libro sa Napanood Ko has the courage to simply observe the devastation of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). There are few great love stories replayed, few books written, flashbacks as enjoyable for the victim as they are for us. There are only the victims going far, far away as if they have fallen into a black hole. The performances here are carefully controlled, as they must be, so that we see no false awareness slipping out from behind the masks; no sense that Lisa is in touch with a more complete reality than, from day to day, she is. No sense that Gun Hoo is finally able to feel consolation, contrition or anything else but inescapable loss. No sense that Lisa's mother, Mary (Lorna Tolentino) deceives herself for a moment, that Pio (Boboy Garrovillo) understands his wife's behavior. The one aware character is Sandra Jeung as Omma, Gon Yoo's mother who gives her son practical advice. She has empathy and pity for him, and Jeung finds that precise note. Padilla clearly knows where to place the camera and how long to let a moment linger to produce maximum emotional impact without ever stooping to sentiment or melodrama. Bela Padilla still young, always until now an actress emerges here as a director who is in calm command of her material. The movie says as much for her strength of character as for her skills. If Padilla’s cunning complexity provides the film’s ethereality, then Gon Yoo’s unwavering love anchors it in place. It’s their connection, finely wrought by Padilla’s grace earns the film its final tears.
Sound Supervision: Aian Louie Caro
Music By: Kean Cipriano
Editor: Renard Torres
Production Designer: Ericson N. Navarro
Director of Photography: Rommel Andreo Sales
Written and Directed By: Bela
