Cinemalaya’s record speaks for itself

TIME may not heal all wounds, but the hope is that it can at least mitigate them.

During this period of strife and contentious debate over the latest edition of the Cinemalaya indie film festival and competition, with some people calling for resignations and/or the abolition of the festival itself, it should do all of us a lot of good to hark back to the years, almost a decade ago, when there was no Cinemalaya:

What did we have then? The Filipino mainstream movie industry was in a long, deep slump, feature-film production had been cut down from a high of 200 per year to only 30 or 40, hundreds of film workers were jobless, established filmmakers were unable to write and direct new movies, and new talents mostly remained undiscovered and unrecognized, except for a few who, through gritted teeth, agreed to do cheap sex flicks.

Grant

It was precisely that grim and grubby landscape that prompted the likes of Tonyboy Cojuangco, Maan Hontiveros, Laurice Guillen, Robbie Tan and Nes Jardin to join forces and put up the first Cinemalaya indie festival, which gave a grant of P500, 000 each to 10 new filmmakers to finally bring their cherished projects to the screen.

It took many millions of pesos on Cojuangco’s part and a similarly huge investment in time and supervision as the other key team members’ counterpart, but the first Cinemalaya festival turned out to be, not just a success, but a triumph of the then repressed indie spirit, which was warmly welcomed and celebrated by an eager, new film audience.

At long last, the formula plots and characters of the slumping and therefore rejected mainstream industry were replaced by the stories, themes and concerns of real Filipinos, which the Cinemalaya movies full-frontally addressed, rather than escaped from.

At long last, viewers could see themselves in the films they viewed, not tisoy demigods from a planet of pluperfect creatures completely unlike our own.

Those stories, characters and images delighted, engaged and moved us—above all, they gave film lovers and new filmmakers that rarest gift in those dark and grim times: They gave us hope.

In the years that followed, Cinemalaya built on its success, attracting even more viewers annually, helping other new writers and directors make their cinematic dreams a rich reality. It also attracted programmers and scouts from international festivals, thus further expanding its new discoveries’ horizons and prospects.

Many of today’s new film writers and directors were given their first boost and showcased by Cinemalaya, so they—and we—should acknowledge and appreciate that fact. As I’ve asked some of them, “When was the last time anybody gave you a gift worth half a million pesos to prove your talent?”

But, with that gift comes a measure of responsibility, to live up to the standards of the festival that has dared, as others never had before, to boost hitherto unproven talent. Being new, some Cinemalaya grantees resent the festival’s supervision.

Discussion

But, precisely because they’re new and untested, some of them need and can benefit from it. What should be the extent of the supervision? That’s subject to discussion. What isn’t is the need for it, if standards are to be maintained.

The fact that Cinemalaya has made its mark both here and abroad is due in part to the rigorous way that its standards have been maintained through the years. In our ningas-cogon culture, where many worthy initiatives thrive or even survive for only a couple of years, that’s a major achievement, and proof positive that the system works.

I have seen for myself how hard and long competition head, Laurice Guillen, and production monitoring head, Robbie Tan, have worked, with no compensation, to help give new filmmakers their all-important initial boost. So, it saddens me that the anti-Cinemalaya campaign appears to be focused on excoriating them.

I trust that their and the festival’s record speaks for itself and that more objective minds will intervene to save the festival, so that it can continue to support, develop and showcase new film talents for more decades to come. —Why throw the baby out with the bath water?

Finally, I trust that more people who have benefited from Cinemalaya will speak up and express their appreciation. I know that it’s easier to remain “politically” silent, but if the festival had chosen to be similarly ambivalent about them and their promise, wouldn’t their own success have been—at the very least—delayed?