YOU’D think a grandmother based in Europe, a Kapamilya mom and a devout Christian would be the last people to make a film bound to be classified among the obscene, or sexually explicit. This is the perplexing situation that the director and actors of the independent film “Chassis” are in.
“Chassis” was rated “X” by the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board (MTRCB) last January. Twice.
This same movie has been shown in prestigious international festivals in Pusan, Vancouver, Mar del Plata (Argentina), Rotterdam and Mexico City.
Critic Christopher Beaubien of Cinelation declared it “one of the best films of 2010.” Variety’s Richard Kuipers likewise praised it, thus: “It casts a compassionate eye… [the director] exercises firm control over a tough subject matter and steadfastly avoids wallowing in anyone’s misery.”
Writer-director Adolfo Alix Jr. and actors Jodi Sta. Maria (of ABS-CBN) and Evelyn Vargas (based in Switzerland) recently visited the Inquirer and turned the tables on us, asking Inquirer employees who viewed the film: “Is it pornographic? Does it arouse lustful desires?”
Actually, the film speaks for itself. The powerful last scene—the one deemed “objectionable” by the censors board—elicits fear more than anything. That’s according to the men in the PDI audience who stayed for the open forum and listened intently as cast and crew defended “Chassis,” which tells of life, or what passes for it, in the container van yard at the port area.
The producers have elevated the case to the MTRCB Appeals Committee in Malacañang.
Meanwhile, the film, which cannot be shown in commercial cinemas, had a special screening at the UP Film Institute to celebrate Women’s Month. After all, as Alix, Sta. Maria and Vargas insist, “Chassis” celebrates a woman’s strength, a mother’s devotion to her child.
How did you react when “Chassis” got an “X”?
Adolfo Alix Jr.: It’s my second movie to get an “X.” The first was “Aurora.” If we count posters and trailers, I got an “X” five times already. I’m getting used to it. Still, I was surprised by the first “X.” The film should be regarded as a whole, and the ending should not be taken out of context. It’s not difficult to understand that it’s not gratuitous.
Jodi Sta. Maria: While we were shooting, I was a little scared. But by the time we got to the final scene, I had understood what my character went through. So when it was X’d, my initial reaction was: Why? When I heard that it was X’d for the second time. I told myself: One more, and it will be a Triple X film na! That’s not nice. (Laughs.)
Was the rating because of the final scene?
AA: Yes. The suggestion was to cut or shorten the scene. How can I do that? That’s the thematic style of the whole film. The viewer is supposed to immerse himself in it, like he’s following a woman’s slow descent into madness. Editing would ruin the flow.
Have you discussed this with MTRCB chair Mary Grace Poe-Llamanzares?
AA: Yes. I explained that to Chair Grace. She’s open-minded naman. The chair doesn’t sit in the review committees, though. Plus, the film was X’d before her recommended members for the new board were approved. I told her that every time an indie film is X’d, it’s like we’re hitting a brick wall, a dead end. At the time of “Aurora,” there was no Appeals Committee, so Malacañang just upheld every decision of the old board.
“Aurora” is about a social worker who was kidnapped and raped by bandits. They found the rape scene objectionable.
Evelyn Vargas: Is rape obscene?
Is this your first “X,” Evelyn?
EV: I’ve had quite a lot, especially during the time of Lino Brocka, when the censors were stricter. I’m used to it, too. Back then we joined rallies to protest the decisions. But the case of “Chassis” makes me wonder, where do we really stand? This film was shown in major festivals abroad. The ending is essential to the movie. If you remove that scene, why show the film at all?
JS: Yes, our stand is, all or nothing. We will only screen the film publicly in its entirety.
Considering your history with the MTRCB, did you feel you were provoking the board?
AA: No. While I was making the film… it wasn’t like, I will do it for the sake of getting X’d. I hate that label; it’s like saying a film is… not fit to be seen by the public… as if we were just selling sex. I challenge all those who’ve seen “Chassis.” How many were sexually aroused by that scene? If they get titillated by that kind of violence, there must be something the matter with them.
An “X” rating is detrimental to a film like ours. People may expect it’s a bold movie, when it’s not. It also prevents independent producers from earning from a commercial run. An “X” rating violates not only freedom of expression, but our right to free enterprise. I feel bad for my producers—Jonas Gaffud, Doc Gamboa and Ave Relucio. I hope they’re discouraged from producing another indie.
EV: Movies like this are welcome abroad. It’s sad that this was praised by foreigners, then banned here. (“Chassis” will be shown in festivals in Cleveland and Budapest this month.)
JS: Some people say maybe the Filipino audience is not ready for this kind of film. In my opinion, it’s time for our audience to grow.
Why did you accept this role, considering how risky it is?
JS: Direk Adolf forced me. Hahaha! Joke lang.
AA: You allowed me to force you naman!
JS: I wanted to do something different. I’ve been doing the same thing on TV and in the movies. I’m not getting any younger. I can’t be pa-cute forever. I want my roles to mature with me. This one was an eye-opener for me. I didn’t know people lived under those container vans until he took me to Pier 16. We immersed ourselves in that community.
Were the people there trusting?
JS: Yes. They told me their stories. We hung out at a small store made from discarded tires.
EV: There was karaoke pa.
JS: You can buy coffee there, crackers and basic necessities. The stories are very typical. They came from the province, sold all their belongings to try their luck here, but ended up homeless. Still, they refuse to go back to the province. They feel ashamed that they didn’t do well in the city.
How did you deglamorize Jodi? Did you stop her from wearing makeup?
AA: She didn’t mind looking disheveled naman. Foreigners thought she was a real homeless person.
JS: They made me look darker, to blend with the people there. No manicure and pedicure. When I took a bath, I didn’t scrub myself too much. No shampoo. No conditioner. I used soap for my hair so it would become coarse and tangled. I walked around the area a lot so my feet would get greasy. Mas icky ang feeling, mas realistic, mas nakakaawa (pitiful).
But your daughter (played by Kimberly Fulgar) in the film always looked neat.
JS: I’m a loving mother in the film. The residents there buy shampoo for their kids.
What led you to this story?
AA: I saw the place once. I asked my researcher, Jerome Zamora, to interview people there.
Jerome Zamora: On our first visit, we couldn’t find the people who lived under the container vans. But this was already featured on TV. When I went back with a former classmate who now works as segment producer on TV, we met a mother and child who admitted that they lived there.
AA: It’s illegal—and dangerous, especially for children. But the women can’t do anything because their husbands are truck drivers who are often not around.
JS: They are used to that kind of life and resist change.
EV: Their living conditions are deplorable. I never knew this about my own country. Thank you Adolf, for opening my eyes.
Why did you make this film at all?
AA: Indie filmmakers are often criticized for making poverty porn. But poverty is a reality in our country. I’m a fan of simple, quiet films. I wanted to do a film on an ordinary family, one that resonates with truth. “Chassis” tells the story of a simple family… a mother and a daughter just trying to survive.
Was it intentional to present the women as strong-willed and the men as inutile?
AA: They say the Philippines is a matriarchal society. That makes us unique as a people. It’s ironic that Jodi’s character is strong and yet she is victimized by society at the same time. She sells her body for P30 because she wants a better life for her daughter.
JS: She has pinned all her hopes on her child.
AA: So that the end, when tragedy strikes, she explodes like a volcano.
How did you prepare for the last scene?
JS: I didn’t know until two days before. That helped. There’s a tendency to over-analyze a script kasi, to over-think as an actor. It helped that we shot the movie chronologically. When I found what the last scene would be like, there was no time to react. I just said, okay, this is it. Go! Let’s do it!
Why did you choose to shoot this film in black and white?
AA: On our first day, I shot it in color. On the second day, it hit me. The pier is like purgatory. In the morning, it’s bright… blindingly white. But at night, it’s pitch black. Parang it’s a place between heaven and hell. I thought: Why not black-and-white? Parang film noir. It’s like you’re watching a woman as her world literally becomes darker and darker.
I want the viewers to focus more on the characters than on the surroundings. Since it isn’t in color, there are no distractions. The audience is able to concentrate on the story.