Film pest

Film pest | Daily Tribune

The Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) began life in 1966 when then Manila Mayor Antonio Villegas (an underrated political figure, in my opinion) organized its precursor, the Manila Film Festival, as a way to let Filipino films elbow their way into a market dominated then (as it is now) by foreign movies.

For two weeks, by executive fiat, only local films could be shown in theaters in the city. To generate hype, the entries were required to construct colorful floats with the main stars paraded atop them around Manila.

In 1975, under Marcos Senior, the festival was expanded to encompass the newly created Metro Manila, with the same setup — the exclusive exhibition of Filipino films, a parade of stars and a most-awaited awards night, where fans of contending actors would attend en force and vigorously root for their idols.

To be sure, the festival was a boon to the local movie industry. Both to garner awards and ensure box office success, studios big and small came out with their best works megged by the most skillful directors and starred in by the biggest names.

Thus, in 1977, there was a battle royale among the big guns: acclaimed directors Celso Ad. Castillo, Lino Brocka, Mike de Leon, Ishmael Bernal, Eddie Romero, Augusto Buenaventura and Joey Gosiengfiao (among others) went toe to toe. They brought with them into the fray the brightest stars in the firmament at the time: Charito Solis, Gloria Diaz, Nora Aunor, Tirso Cruz III, Erap Estrada, Vic Vargas, Vilma Santos, Dindo Fernando, Christopher de Leon, Hilda Koronel, Alma Moreno, Mat Ranillo III, Eddie Garcia, Charito Solis. A veritable Who’s Who of Philippine cinema for all time.

Alas, that was when the controversy started! Lino Brocka walked out, claiming he was robbed. Many issues continued to haunt the Festival in the years that came after but, nonetheless, differences of opinion notwithstanding as to who should have been given trophies, one fact remained: the Metro Manila Film Festival continued to inspire the churning out of great films.

Among others, Diligin Mo Ng Hamog Ang Uhaw Na Lupa; Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Na Kayo Ngayon; Kisapmata; Himala; Karnal; Magic Temple; Jose Rizal; Muro Ami; Baler — all belong in the catalog of the greatest Filipino movies of all time.

Until recently, that is. Born of greed to generate as much in gross sales as possible — not through excellence, but by pandering to the least and most common denominator sought by many: cheap laughs, fantastic escapist fare, voyeuristic presentations on infidelity and other immoralities — the shift lately has been to “commercial appeal,” just so the Festival can satisfy the lust to maximize the 30 percent amusement tax on gross that goes to various agencies where favored geriatric entertainment personalities sit in their sinecures.

Movies with serious social commentary, historical bent or those presenting the realities of our country are no longer selected for exhibition or awards. In their place are lightweight franchises recycled to their nth iterations, woke movies pushing morally questionable agenda and fluff pieces designed to be forgotten after once having been laughed at, cried at or shrieked to. Worse, the selection process has been highly politicized.

A shame, really, as film festivals are supposed to showcase the best that a country has to offer, not only for local consumption, but for the international market as well. It should not be a milking cow for local governments and national agencies. I have attended some international film festivals (in San Sebastian and Zurich) and they have become lively grounds for movies to earn global breakthroughs, because only the best are shown. Just like the MMFF before.

Right now, the MMFF seems to have become irrelevant as far as lifting the industry from its sordid state is concerned. If the trend continues, the MMFF will become nothing but a seasonal pest, erupting on the scene once a year to feast, leaving a wake of creative desolation behind it for the rest of the year.