Last year, I had the privilege of attending an advanced screening of Brillante Mendoza’s Captive, a film about the 2001 Abu Sayyaf kidnapping in Palawan. The event happened in the hospitality of his home, complete with food and drinks, entirely free of charge.
After the film, despite being in the middle of shooting his next film, the director took the time to answer our questions. Among the topics discussed were Captive’s respectable outing abroad, how he hoped people would give it a chance here, and he was hoping that more students would watch it. Just by watching him answer, I could see that this was a man who is really passionate about what he does.
I had no idea who he was when I first got assigned to cover the event, but a quick Google search showed me an impressive résumé that included awards from the prestigious Cannes Film Festival. I was greatly surprised to find that beneath the litter of banal films centered on misguided themes like infidelity (I lament that there were two or three of those that came out that year) were these internationally renowned films, and here in our very own backyard was this internationally recognized director, and most people didn’t even know he existed.
I was curious to see if people would actually end up watching Captive, so I waited for the film’s release, albeit in vain: Captive never saw a widespread release in the Philippines.
However, another movie of his, Thy Womb, was released later that year as part of the Metro Manila Film Festival. And while Captive received mixed reactions internationally, Thy Womb was nominated for and won numerous awards in a variety of film festivals overseas, including the Venice International Film Festival.
Three days into the festival, reports were streaming in that theatres were planning to pull the film out.
Ironically fresh-off winning best director in the 6th Asia Pacific Screen Awards, Brillante Mendoza practically had to plead with audiences to watch his film, and there’s something profoundly sad about that. Here was a man who found success and recognition in other countries, but couldn’t find appreciation from his own, despite the fact that his movies specifically tackled Philippine issues.
Unfortunately, Brillante Mendoza isn’t an isolated case. Take Palm D’Or winner Raymond Red or Eisner award nominee Gerry Alanguilan for example, two artists that have yet to receive widespread recognition in our country. There’s a certain neglect of local artists in favor of foreign ones, and it occurs across different mediums of art.
Now there are two hasty conclusions that might be drawn from this. One is that people don’t have taste for choosing to watch another Vice Ganda movie instead of Thy Womb, and I think that’s unfair. The thing about art is that a lot of it boils down to taste, and you can’t blame someone for liking apples over oranges.
The second is that people should stop supporting anything Western because of some Imperialist conspiracy. There’s nothing wrong with exploring foreign culture. Western works are a gold mine of knowledge, from Shakespeare to Heidegger, and to reject these entirely would be counterproductive.
What I’m simply saying is to at least give our own culture a chance, because by neglecting it, we lose something substantial. There’s a limit to how much foreign works can express certain issues in our society. The truth is I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to relate to works such as, say, The Great Gatsby as much as Americans do. I mean how many people actually got the references to American history, its socioeconomic conditions, and the little cultural references throughout that book? Granted, one of the pleasures of reading is the exploration of new cultures, but I think a big part of its message is lost on us.
There’s also something about being able to relate to a certain setting. One of the most popular Cinemalaya entries last year was Ang Nawawala. I personally found the plot to be nothing exceptional, but I thoroughly enjoyed it because of the setting’s proximity to my own life. There’s something special about that.
This isn’t just a matter of wanting local culture to succeed. I think we need it to succeed. For works like Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo to inspire revolutions, we need people to actually experience them. For our society to move forward, we need to start to appreciate our own.
So the next time you’re in a book store, check out the Filipino section. The next time you’re free on a weekend, pass by CCP and catch a play, a film, or both. Hit the streets and dig out those music venues. You never know what kind of treasure you’ll find out there, and take it from me, it’s extremely rewarding.
