GLOSSY, FLAT

 


     While there’s no good reason to remake Celso Ad Castillo's Patayin Mo sa Sindak si Barbara (1974) it’s not an inherently terrible idea. A pity, then that Chito S. Roño's Patayin sa Sindak si Barbara  (Star Cinema, 1995) is such a slog. From the beginning, this version does what it can to distance itself from the original. By relaxing the focus on Barbara, the remake sacrifices the intense empathy which made the original version so potent. If there was anything to replace that loss, it wouldn’t be an issue, but none of the new material ever coheres into anything more than placeholder scenes, exchanges which tease at depth and history without ever following through. As for the performances, Antoinette Taus (Karen) manages to suggest a sort of knowing detachment and Dawn Zulueta (Ruth) is easily the most compelling. As the hapless Nick, Tonton Gutierrez is a nonentity, fading from memory whenever he’s off screen. Lorna Tolentino’s Barbara is stronger, but she’s ill-served by the screenplay. Her charismatic presence is undone by a character who is independent, passive, paranoid and naïve by turns, without any consistent through-line to explain her behavior beyond a need to sustain the plot. It’s doubtful any performance, no matter how well-judged, could save the film. Patayin sa Sindak si Barbara  is, at best, a glossy, flat reminder that there is a better version of this story. At worst, it’s just flat.

     This high definition transfer is sourced from a brand new 2K restoration. The film looks healthy and  vibrant that it can easily fool someone to believe that it was shot less than a year or so ago. I upscaled this release to 4K and was quite overwhelmed by how great it looked. The improvements in terms of depth and delineation are staggering and since there are plenty of darker footage with specific nuances there are also entire segments with ranges of detail that are basically missing from previous releases. Fluidity is also very impressive, especially on a bigger screen. Furthermore, it is easy to tell that the entire film has been carefully color-graded because there are solid ranges of excellent organic primaries and even better ranges of beautiful nuances. Image stability is great with no traces of any compromising digital tinkering. Grain exposure is stable and very consistent. Lastly, there are no traces of conventional age-related imperfections. The quality of the 2-channel track is hugely impressive. The dialog is crystal clear and the overall dynamic movement is as good as it can possibly be. This is a great presentation.


Production Design: Ernest Santiago

Sound Effects Engineer: Gino Cruz

Editor: Jess Navarro

Musical Director: Jessie Lasaten

Screenplay: Ricardo Lee

Director of Photography: Joe Batac, FSC

Directed By: Chito S. Roño


UNPREDICTABLY MOVING


     What makes Gensan Punch (Max Original, Center Stage Productions, Gentle Underground Monkeys Co., Ltd., SC Film International, 2021) so unpredictably moving is that Brillante Ma Mendoza takes the go-for-it clichés and invests them with genuine feeling and individuality. Working in a broad-stroke genre enables Mendoza to tear into charged emotional subjects without hemming and hawing. He’s got a diviner’s sense for deriving palpable drama from what remains unseen beyond the frame or in the characters’ heads. One of the movie’s most memorable image is Rudy (Ronnie Lazaro) and Nao (Shogen) facing each other in a workout and swaying in synch, from the waist up. Lazaro has never been more powerful than he is here, but even when the movie dips into tear-jerking, Lazaro doesn’t give into sentimentality. Shogen's raw honesty and ardor set the stakes very high. Even when Gensan Punch threatens to fall into show-off virtuosity, Mendoza keeps his balance. The movie ends with a lovely coda. When Mendoza is in top gear, he pulls you into the action psychologically and viscerally. He choreographs Nao’s fight into a single shot, after the camera swerves to take in Rudy’s imprecations, it immediately swings back to show their impact on Nao. At moments like that, Mendoza's precocity takes our breath away.

     Gensan Punch looks fine on high definition with a few caveats. Source noise can spike with occasional bursts of thickness that reaches a level of annoyance, particularly in lower light scenes. Banding is a much smaller and barely noticeable concern. The digital video source is a little flat and edges of the frame occasionally appear smudgy rather than sharp. Flesh tones range from pasty to warm. That said, the image generally impresses. The digital shoot does allow for a fairly rich color palette, occasionally feeling a little dull and diluted but finds a more vibrantly sustained feel elsewhere, whether out on the streets of Gensan or in the boxing ring. Detail satisfies, with skin textures appearing nicely intimate and clothing textures sharp and naturally complex. Black levels hold deep and accurate. The lossless soundtrack is certainly not timid. It's very aggressive and loud, perhaps lacking finesse at its most vigorous but offering enough sonic activity to satisfy. Boxing matches are noticeably enthusiastic and complex with roaring crowds, heavy punches, microphone reverberations at introduction and chatter in the corners between rounds all vying for attention but with the most critical pieces always finding the right amount of prioritization above the din. Music is aggressive while tunes regularly spill into the back but always maintain a command of balance throughout. Dialogue is clear and front-center focused. Performances are exceptional and the fight scenes, very well composed and executed. HBO Max’s presentation of Gensan Punch delivers good video with very aggressive audio.


Directed By: Brillante Ma Mendoza

Screenplay: Honee Alipio

Director of Photography: Joshua A. Reyles

Production Designer: Dante Mendoza

Editors: Ysabelle Denoga, Armando Lao, Peter Arian Vito

Musical Director: Diwa de Leon

Sound: Mike Idioma, Alex Tomboc, Deo Van N. Fidelson

ON SOCIAL CONDITIONING


     For a long time, 1980 has been perceived and commented upon as a kind of breakthrough moment of rule-flouting, a decade’s natural culmination by which time the tenets of independent cinema that defined the preceding 10 years were absorbed into the mainstream and audiences were allegedly more willing to accept the outré. In its bounty of homo-friendly studio-financed movies, the year did seem to mark some kind of shift. Looking back, however, it’s evident that this response was perhaps overzealous and not just because in the Marcos era, we were about to swing back into a conservative mode of de-sexualized filmmaking that we have yet to crawl out from under. Ishmael Bernal's Manila by Night (Regal Films, Inc.) offers a far more complex inquiry into questions around gay representation, and the way it functions as a sly, surreptitious condemnation of the inherent homophobia of audiences and filmmakers alike. Manila by Night becomes a fairly spot-on evocation of the personal and cultural derangement of the closet. The tortuous ways that boys, just like the film’s structure itself, play hide-and-seek with identity and eroticism is a commentary on social conditioning. Bernal’s film, as a mainstream studio product ostensibly preoccupied with people who fashion themselves as societal rule-breakers, is in no way a countercultural work, yet its characters are constantly negotiating public and private registers, journeying into the dangerous night to either hide or reveal their true selves. For Manay Sharon (Bernardo Bernardo) and Kano (Cherie Gil) this negotiation is particularly acute, everyone else seems to have erotic designs on sexual presumptions about them. What makes Manila by Night a satisfying yet poignant queer film is that even after they have revealed themselves, they both maintain their outsider status.

     This new digital transfer was created in 4K resolution from the 35mm positive film prints at Central Digital Lab. The restoration was undertaken by the Film Development Council of the Philippines (FDCP) and the Save Our Cinema Restoration Program of the Philippine Film Archive (PFA). The visuals have proper and solid density, the lack of compromising digital adjustments ensures an all-around stable organic appearance. The color grading is outstanding. There are nicely balanced and very healthy primaries, plus excellent ranges of supporting and equally healthy nuances. In terms of overall balance and fluidity this presentation is on an entirely different level, strengthening and preserving the film’s native organic qualities. There are no stability issues. Debris, damage marks, scratches, cuts, stains and all other distracting age-related imperfections have been completely removed. It’s an excellent restoration. The Vanishing Tribe's music effortlessly enhances the intended atmosphere and never disturbs the film's native dynamic balance. The dialog is clear, stable and very clean. There are no pops, audio dropouts or distortions. For decades of moviemaking, gayness has equaled coyness and that hasn’t changed even today. Yet there was one studio release from 1980 that directly and cleverly addressed the manner in which Filipino films deploy homosexual characters and more importantly, how audiences are instructed to engage or more often, disengage with them.


Screenplay: Ishmael Bernal

Music: Vanishing Tribe

Director of Photography: Sergio Lobo, FSC

Film Editor: Augusto Salvador

Sound Supervision: Vic Macamay

Production Design: Peque Gallaga

Directed By: Ishmael Bernal

IN THE MIDST OF APPARENT MADNESS


     Silip (Viking Films International, 1985), is undoubtedly the work of Elwood Perez's imagination. The violence is explicit and the nudity celebratory. In leaving little to the imagination, Perez asks us to confront the events of the film without mediation and approaches the material with musical verve. Perez's feeling for music translate well into his direction of actors. Sarsi Emmanuelle and Maria Isabel Lopez equally dominate the frame. They are the bodies in which the film turns and both give stunningly physical performances. Mark Joseph embraces his sensuality and is proud of his body. He is as charismatic and domineering here as he is anywhere else in his career.

     Perez’s imagery is a mash of surrealism and anachronism but underneath it is a fascination with the forces, external and internal, centered on sexual expression and the repression of religion. Tonya is gripped by religious fervor and frustrated sexuality that erupts in mass hysteria after Selda accuses her of possessing them. The eruption feels less like women being crazy and more like a society that strictly controls sexual desire and expression finally breaking down under the weight of undirected sexual energy. Ricardo Lee’s screenplay is an intelligent discussion about the nature of sex, desire and religiosity. Perez's style in itself gives the film a sense that we are watching things that are larger, wilder than real life. Emmanuelle and Lopez display their considerable talents to the extreme. Lopez finds sympathy and pathos in Tonya, a woman warped by her society and religion. Emmanuelle runs the gamut of emotions, but it is in Selda's quietest and most introspective moments that she finds greatest depth and meaning.

     Presented in an aspect ratio of 1.85:1, encoded with MPEG-4 AVC and granted a 1080p transfer, Elwood Perez’s Silip arrives on Blu-ray courtesy of Mondo Macabro. Upgrade in quality is significant. In some areas, the improved shadow definition and overall clarity are so big that details are now easy to see. Those with large screens will instantly recognize the vastly superior fluidity. Now, the entire film boasts solid organic visuals with plenty of striking nuances. There are no traces of problematic degraining or sharpening. The color palette promotes richer primaries. Needless to say, the overall balance is more convincing and image stability is excellent. There are no damage marks, cuts, scratches, stains or other conventional age-related imperfections. I viewed the entire film with the original Tagalog DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 track and did not encounter any technical anomalies. Depth and overall balance remains pleasing. Dynamic intensity is excellent and at times pulls a few surprises with some terrific separation. This release also features a superior selection of bonus features. Silip is a serious film grappling with deeper theological concepts than it is perhaps given credit for in the midst of its apparent madness.


Sound Engineer: Vic Macamay

Production Designer: Aped Santos

Film Editor: Edgardo "Boy" Vinarao

Screenplay: Ricardo Lee

Music: Lutgardo Labad

Cinematography: Johnny Araojo

Directed By: Elwood Perez


POWERFULLY PERSUASIVE


     Lino Brocka, a tireless cinematic champion of the underdog has marched under this banner from the start. He plies his viewers with plenty of scenes in which characters debate the finer points of syndicalist strategy, but he also scatters petals of whimsy to nourish the senses. In Bayan Ko Kapit sa Patalim (Malaya Films, Stephan Films, 1984), there is a passionate discussion in which the laborers debate the pros of union membership. There are also several tense arguments about the conflicting demands of family security and worker solidarity. As if to balance these moments, there is also Phillip Salvador in the role of Arturo "Turing" Manalastas and Gina Alajar as his wife, Luz whose performances transform the film into a vital and complex piece of political art. Brocka maintains a humble respect for his characters and an unsentimental eye for the difficulties they face. While unequivocally on the side of the union, Brocka’s keen sense of contradiction and storytelling keeps his propagandistic impulses in check. As a result, the film makes a powerfully persuasive case and gives way to the gloom and frustration of summary firings and workplace abuse. 

     The new 4K restoration of Bayan Ko Kapit sa Patalim is simply fantastic. Detail and especially image depth are enormously impressive. The blockiness and sharpening have been replaced with flawless contrast and at times truly overwhelmingly beautiful blacks and whites. The problematic nighttime footage also looks excellent. Shadow definition and clarity are dramatically improved in every single sequence. Furthermore, there are absolutely no traces of problematic lab tinkering. Naturally, the high-quality grain scan is evenly distributed throughout the entire film. Color depth and saturation, especially where there is plenty of natural light are also terrific. There are absolutely no debris, scratches, cuts, warps or larger damage marks. I watched Bayan Ko Kapit sa Patalim with the Tagalog DTS-HD Mono Audio. The dialogue is crisp, clear, stable, better balanced and easy to follow. Le Chat qui Fume's restoration of Lino Brocka's Bayan Ko Kapit sa Patalim, one of Philippine Cinema's masterpieces is enormously impressive. Beautifully restored in 4K the film looks astonishingly good, the best it ever has.


Direction: Lino Brocka

Screenplay: Jose F. Lacaba

Director of Photography: Conrado Baltazar

Production Design: Joey Luna

Film Editor: George Jarlego

Music: Jess Santiago

Sound: Rudy Baldovino, Willie Islao