LAV DIAZ (left) gives instructions to actors Sid Lucero (back to camera) and the author (right). who plays a lawyer.
Lav Diaz says he remembers it as clearly as if it happened yesterday: He gets a call from me. I say, “Lav, are you open to working with another writer?” He swiftly replies, “Yes, of course!” I supposedly tell him, “I have a story—Lav na Lav (it’s very Lav)!”
I laugh about this recollection of my reckless enthusiasm. It’s most likely accurate—he has a photographic memory—except for one thing: I’m quite sure I called him “Sir.” When we’re on the phone and I call him by his first name, I get furtive glances and silly grins from people around me, especially strangers in a packed MRT train.
Back to that phone conversation. He chuckles at my “Lav na Lav” description of the story that I can’t wait to share with him. Probably, he says, “Wazak!” I have interested him. But, as usual, his coolness prevails. He says we should discuss it in person.
I realize, as I write this (having checked my e-mails from 2012) that it’s been exactly two years since I pitched the story of “Norte” to him, face-to-face.
It is early September in Dumaguete. We are guests in an advocacy filmmaking workshop organized by Dakila, an artists’ group, in Silliman University.
I just finished giving a lecture; Lav arrived from Manila for the screening of a couple of his films. We decide it’s time.
He invites his friend, the late funnyman, activist, and artist Tado, a founding members of Dakila, to the meeting. Over coffee, I pitch the story that Rody Vera, Michiko Yamamoto and I brainstormed about a few weeks ago. Tado listens quietly, and seriously. After I’m done—no, before that—Lav says, “Let’s shoot now!”
It’s not yet called “Norte, Hangganan ng Kasaysayan.” It’s not called anything; it’s simply the new Lav Diaz film that Rody Vera will write and I will produce.
Three months after the pitch we have Rody’s first draft of the script. It is tentatively titled, “Parol.”
(There’s another story here, much longer, more painful. Allow me to spare myself the ordeal of recounting it.)
A dream, not a shoot
The shoot itself is anything but an ordeal. It is a dream—the fastest, easiest, lightest 20 days of shooting that I have ever been a part of. It may not be visible in the final product because of the gloominess inherent to the material, but that’s how it is.
The fluffiest, most trifling of comedies can be a pain to accomplish, while movies that you can slash your wrists with can be a hoot—and a skip and a hop plus a wiggle of the bum—to make.
As early as the location hunt in Ilocos Norte a few days before Christmas 2012, Lav sets the tone, mood and pace.
Over bottles of beer after a full day of inspecting possible locations and consulting with local guides, the main staff—line producer Kints Kintana, director of photography Larry Manda, production designer Perry Dizon, assistant director Hazel Orencio, and I—talk incessantly and with great animation about the movie’s characters, their back stories, the story itself and the themes we hope would surface.
We gush, question, argue, agree, propose, counterpropose. All the while, Lav sits quietly listening, or adrift in his own thoughts. Later, during the shoot, I confirm that it is the former. He was listening all along and, amazingly, without pen and paper, taken note of everything said on those half-drunk nights. He is a super-sponge that absorbs the good stuff and lets everything else slide, an ego-less artist connected to everything and everyone around him.
On the set, from late January to late February 2013, everything is as cool as the weather. Lav will not have it any other way. When the next day calls for an early start, he makes sure to end work early.
Constant rethinking
When a big or difficult scene is lined up, he asks Hazel to lighten the load, as much as possible, for the rest of the day.
Throughout the shoot, no one, as far as I can tell, is overextended. Except for Lav. Anyone who works closely with him will attest to the fact that he constantly rethinks, re-imagines, revises… everything. He stays up all night tweaking the story, adding or subtracting (mostly adding) characters, writing new scenes, new lines of dialogue.
(For all his films, he has made it a rule to go to the location—usually a provincial town far from Manila—weeks, if possible, ahead of everyone. There he immerses himself completely in the spirit, rhythm, vibe, energy, magic of the place. Super-sponge on overdrive.)
Cannes gala
Fast-forward to May 2013, at the film’s gala in Cannes, France. The screening is about to finish. I am standing by the door, too tense to sit in the audience. Lav is about to make an exit when he sees me. “CR lang, Fabulous.” (That’s his chosen name for me.)
Minutes later and very close to the final shot, he isn’t back yet. The festival programmer comes up to me. “You have to go back to your seat… to experience what it’s like when the film ends. Where is Lav?”
I start to say that our director is in the toilet. In the dark, I can see the programmer’s eyes widen in panic. “No!” (Or maybe, “Non!”) He makes a mad dash to look for Lav, who, it turns out, has gone hiding.
I take my seat as instructed. The lights come up. Everyone is standing, applauding; some are in tears. We stand to acknowledge it all. We forget to take pictures. Lav is nowhere to be found.
Two minutes into the ovation he is ushered back in by the relieved programmer. The audience spots him. Their applause swells in intensity and warmth. Everyone in our group, as Lav would say, is wazak.
Later, somebody asks how long it took for us to shoot the four-hour film. I say 20 days. She says, “Only 20 days? When did you shoot?” February, I say. “Oh, last year.” No, this year. Her smile disappears. “No way!” she exclaims. What can I say except, it’s true—Lav makes everything easy.
(The author is better known as Raymond Lee, writer-producer. “Norte” is showing until Sept. 16 at Glorietta 4 (1 and 6 p.m.), Greenhills Promenade (2:30 and 7:10 p.m.), Robinsons Galleria (7 p.m.), Robinsons Metro East (7 p.m.) and TriNoma (12:10 and 5 p.m.) with English subtitles.)