PPP 2017: Birdshot
If a director makes his/her first feature film and it's kind of a mixed bag (if not an utter disappointment), you start to wonder if he/she will be able to redeem him/herself in the next film, if ever such a project is still possible. First impression does still last. In this regard, I didn't exactly warm up to Mikhail Red's debut feature "Rekorder", which was shown at the 2013 edition of Cinemalaya. It's a paranoid footage thriller with an atmosphere that's rather frenzied and a main character (played by Ronnie Quizon) who, for the most part, is actually distant. The film, while technically accomplished, just left me cold. Four years later, the young director (son of Palme d'Or-winner Raymond Red) has a new film called "Birdshot", an entry in the first-ever Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino (Aug. 16-22) in which it won the Critics' Choice award.
How does Red's sophomore feature fare? It has a carefully-controlled pace, deliberately building up the tension at its core. It's the kind of slow-burn thriller that makes you anticipate, slowly but surely, something unsettling to come up by the end. The manner in which the director sets up each scene properly fills the air with anxiety and dread, the kind of atmosphere needed to bring the audience to an uneasy expectation of a culminating denouement. Such a calm and calculated exactness is an admirable trait for a young filmmaker whom one would probably expect to pour out his youthful ebullience and restless energy on his work, as others are wont to do. On that score, "Birdshot" is a noteworthy film.
But if only a film can be judged by its atmosphere alone. It sometimes feels that the director's build up of atmosphere is too much for its own good. I can't help thinking at some point that he made the film with primarily a Western - or European - audience in mind, with the far-flung provincial fields serving as a stand-in for the wintry landscapes somewhere in Finland or the dark alleys somewhere in France. The relatively slow pace and some artful flourishes will most probably appeal to those who appreciate European arthouse cinema. Of course there's nothing wrong with that. Any director can assimilate into his own work his various filmic influences and preoccupations - European, Asian or whatever - as he deems fit. If he can still make the film come out as distinctive to his native country in spite of the myriad international influences, then we're all the better for it. After all, a film is, among other things, supposed to expose us to a nation's culture, right? But it does still happen that a particular film can look and feel something altogether different from where it actually came from. Again, that's the director's prerogative. We, the audience, can only hope for something better.
As much as I admire in "Birdshot" its controlled pace and sophisticated sensibility, I can only hope for more out of the father and daughter characters of Ku Aquino and Mary Joy Apostol. Unfortunately, just like Ronnie Quizon's character in "Rekorder", Aquino's and Apostol's roles were written in such a way that makes them rather distant from the audience. The two portray their roles credibly enough, but the screenplay charts their moral behavior in a rather questionable manner. After the Haribon, an endangered Philippine eagle, was shot by the teenage Maya (or pre-teen perhaps, because there's a scene later in the film that seems to show the girl having her first menstruation), it looks like the father and daughter feel no guilt over the act. They seem to not even fully realize the gravity of the misdeed. We may even doubt if Maya (a name that couldn't have been more ironic as it also refers to a kind of bird) actually knew that the creature that she killed was no ordinary animal. But then, ignorance of the law excuses no one, right? And when an even greater tragedy happens by the end, it rather reinforces the characters' moral indifference. Bleak as this may sound, it's basically running away with murder.
Red may have actually been aiming to draw sympathy for Maya and her father, but with the kind of ethical decisions and judgments that he has mapped out for them, the opposite is rather what has been achieved. Given the truly precarious nature of Maya's conundrum (with the government itself - or at least the local public officials - highly likely to run after her because of the nature of the creature that she killed), it's kind of a letdown that we can't somehow fully extend our sympathies to her. Or perhaps that's the point of the story? The director probably really wanted to pose the question of why would we bother to care for someone who doesn't even feel a bit of a guilt over his/her sin. But then, for a film to be truly engaging, we should still be able to establish a connection with the characters in one way or another. There are even times that we have come to identify with a cinematic anti-hero, just because he/she has made some decisions that prompted us to actually care for him/her. After all, it's humans - their behavior and circumstances - that we mainly follow whenever we watch a film.
The director's concern over the gravity of Maya's misdeed becomes even more problematic when it appears, in the film's context, that the young girl's case serves only as a "decoy" to divert attention from a much "graver" case that the duplicitous senior police officials (John Arcilla and Dido dela Paz) are trying to sweep under the rug, but still wants to be pursued, no matter how futile it may be, by an idealistic rookie officer (Arnold Reyes). It's as if the killing of an endangered species is a mere bluff side-by-side another grievous offense that has the potential to put the reputation of the powers-that-be in danger. This is rather an odd authorial choice in a film that's supposed to draw our attention to the plight of a young girl who unwittingly finds herself wading through hot waters. Might as well make a separate film about the case that's being covered up.
Nevertheless, despite the distant feel that "Birdshot" may have engendered, its deliberate orchestration of tension makes it a film still worth checking out, a characteristic not often seen in young filmmakers, who would most likely prefer their films to be flashy, brisk and loud (though nothing wrong with it, as well). If we get to see a film like that, it might just turn out to be a gem. "Birdshot", however, is just almost there.
(A young girl shoots an endangered species without fully knowing its consequences in Mikhail Red's "Birdshot")
How does Red's sophomore feature fare? It has a carefully-controlled pace, deliberately building up the tension at its core. It's the kind of slow-burn thriller that makes you anticipate, slowly but surely, something unsettling to come up by the end. The manner in which the director sets up each scene properly fills the air with anxiety and dread, the kind of atmosphere needed to bring the audience to an uneasy expectation of a culminating denouement. Such a calm and calculated exactness is an admirable trait for a young filmmaker whom one would probably expect to pour out his youthful ebullience and restless energy on his work, as others are wont to do. On that score, "Birdshot" is a noteworthy film.
But if only a film can be judged by its atmosphere alone. It sometimes feels that the director's build up of atmosphere is too much for its own good. I can't help thinking at some point that he made the film with primarily a Western - or European - audience in mind, with the far-flung provincial fields serving as a stand-in for the wintry landscapes somewhere in Finland or the dark alleys somewhere in France. The relatively slow pace and some artful flourishes will most probably appeal to those who appreciate European arthouse cinema. Of course there's nothing wrong with that. Any director can assimilate into his own work his various filmic influences and preoccupations - European, Asian or whatever - as he deems fit. If he can still make the film come out as distinctive to his native country in spite of the myriad international influences, then we're all the better for it. After all, a film is, among other things, supposed to expose us to a nation's culture, right? But it does still happen that a particular film can look and feel something altogether different from where it actually came from. Again, that's the director's prerogative. We, the audience, can only hope for something better.
As much as I admire in "Birdshot" its controlled pace and sophisticated sensibility, I can only hope for more out of the father and daughter characters of Ku Aquino and Mary Joy Apostol. Unfortunately, just like Ronnie Quizon's character in "Rekorder", Aquino's and Apostol's roles were written in such a way that makes them rather distant from the audience. The two portray their roles credibly enough, but the screenplay charts their moral behavior in a rather questionable manner. After the Haribon, an endangered Philippine eagle, was shot by the teenage Maya (or pre-teen perhaps, because there's a scene later in the film that seems to show the girl having her first menstruation), it looks like the father and daughter feel no guilt over the act. They seem to not even fully realize the gravity of the misdeed. We may even doubt if Maya (a name that couldn't have been more ironic as it also refers to a kind of bird) actually knew that the creature that she killed was no ordinary animal. But then, ignorance of the law excuses no one, right? And when an even greater tragedy happens by the end, it rather reinforces the characters' moral indifference. Bleak as this may sound, it's basically running away with murder.
Red may have actually been aiming to draw sympathy for Maya and her father, but with the kind of ethical decisions and judgments that he has mapped out for them, the opposite is rather what has been achieved. Given the truly precarious nature of Maya's conundrum (with the government itself - or at least the local public officials - highly likely to run after her because of the nature of the creature that she killed), it's kind of a letdown that we can't somehow fully extend our sympathies to her. Or perhaps that's the point of the story? The director probably really wanted to pose the question of why would we bother to care for someone who doesn't even feel a bit of a guilt over his/her sin. But then, for a film to be truly engaging, we should still be able to establish a connection with the characters in one way or another. There are even times that we have come to identify with a cinematic anti-hero, just because he/she has made some decisions that prompted us to actually care for him/her. After all, it's humans - their behavior and circumstances - that we mainly follow whenever we watch a film.
The director's concern over the gravity of Maya's misdeed becomes even more problematic when it appears, in the film's context, that the young girl's case serves only as a "decoy" to divert attention from a much "graver" case that the duplicitous senior police officials (John Arcilla and Dido dela Paz) are trying to sweep under the rug, but still wants to be pursued, no matter how futile it may be, by an idealistic rookie officer (Arnold Reyes). It's as if the killing of an endangered species is a mere bluff side-by-side another grievous offense that has the potential to put the reputation of the powers-that-be in danger. This is rather an odd authorial choice in a film that's supposed to draw our attention to the plight of a young girl who unwittingly finds herself wading through hot waters. Might as well make a separate film about the case that's being covered up.
Nevertheless, despite the distant feel that "Birdshot" may have engendered, its deliberate orchestration of tension makes it a film still worth checking out, a characteristic not often seen in young filmmakers, who would most likely prefer their films to be flashy, brisk and loud (though nothing wrong with it, as well). If we get to see a film like that, it might just turn out to be a gem. "Birdshot", however, is just almost there.
(A young girl shoots an endangered species without fully knowing its consequences in Mikhail Red's "Birdshot")
Comments