The “Walang himala!” scene in Himala (1982). The trapped-in-the-corner ending of Maynila sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (1975). The “Magsayaw na lang tayo” scene in Temptation Island (1980).
These are few of the scenes in local cinema that have become iconic for varying reasons, whether through excellent writing, masterful directing, impeccable acting, or simply because they have stuck in the minds of viewers.
The ten scenes below are what the Society of Filipino Film reviewers recognize as the best scenes of 2021.
The confrontation, Gameboys: The Movie
Ronald Cruz, SFFR: “It might be fair to say that every Catholic Filipino family has a Tita Susan, that sanctimonious, Church-frequenting aunt who thinks that gays are fun as long as they’re not her relatives because she believes that they’re destined for hell. Despite the unsavory actions of Terrence (Kyle Velino) in season one of the Gameboys series, it can be argued that the franchise has never had a true villain until Susan, whose condemnation of homosexuality (the ‘praying away the gay’ type) is, sadly, not unrealistic by any stretch of the imagination. So when during a tense dinner Cairo (Elijah Canlas) finally snaps after seething for days under his calm exterior, we completely understand. There is something cathartic in how Cai defends not only the dignity of his boyfriend Gavreel (Kokoy de Santos) but also the decision to love the way they have chosen to love, in part because between the two of them, he has heretofore been the less secure about his sexuality. He’s also a proxy for teens frustrated with social norms that require unconditional deference to adults even if the respect is not reciprocated; his utterance of ‘respect begets respect’ is scathing. Beyond this, the confrontation precipitates the event that dramatically closes the movie and presumably begins the plot of the anticipated second season: Gav has to leave for the US to look after his ailing Tita Myra (Susan Africa). Gav’s reaction to Susan revealing Myra’s condition is devastating. The sequence easily convinces that very few actors of their age are better than Canlas and de Santos at evoking raw, genuine emotion.
Lest we forget, the trigger of this explosive sequence is the holier-than-thou Tita Susan, who is played with masterful control by the impressive Angie Castrence (a Best Supporting Performance nominee in the 2nd Pinoy Rebyu Awards). If her performance had been overblown or cartoonish, the caricature would have lessened the character’s impact. But Castrence’s Susan is so real that we cannot help but feel offended and angry, because she reminds us that hate for the LGBTQ+ community is all too true and pervasive within the systems that should be protecting our youth from oppression.
Gameboys: The Movie is also a nominee for Pinoy Rebyu’s Best Ensemble Performance. This sequence, chosen by the SFFR as one of the Best Scenes of 2021, should dispel any doubts about the cast deserving this recognition.”
Kokoy de Santos, actor: “Share ko lang yung mga naaalala kong mga kaganapan nung shinoot namin yung confrontation scene with my baby. Wow! Hahaha. And of course THE Angie Castrence. Ibang gabay ang ginawa samin ni Direk Ivan nung kinuhaan namin yung scene na yun, grabe yung motivation. And laging tumatatak na sakin yung kasabihan na pag nasa eksena, talon ka lang. Ibig sabihin kalimutan ko lahat ng mga iniisip ko bilang ako, bilang Kokoy. Maging si Gav ka. Ramdamin kung ano yung eksena. At sobrang thankful din ako na sobrang husay at masarap ka-eksena ng mga kasama ko.”
Wet look training, Paglaki Ko, Gusto Kong Maging Pornstar
Nicol Latayan, SFFR: “Darryl Yap, who shot into prominence and fame firstly as an online content creator, has since then ventured into being one of the most productive directors for Viva Films. In 2021 alone, he directed 10 feature films, the first one being Paglaki Ko, Gusto Kong Maging Pornstar. The film assembled some of the most prominent sexy actresses in Philippine cinema history – Alma Moreno, Rosanna Roces, Ara Mina, and Maui Taylor – playing veterans who are training the next batch of sexy stars to follow their footsteps.
In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, the ‘porn star’ trainees are being taught how to project the perfect sexy star wet look, by dipping themselves into a huge drum of water. In between, the four leads reminisce some of their own memories during their peak years as sexy actresses. Partly a quick history lesson, partly just a joyous chikahan of notable Pinoy sexy personalities, it was definitely one of the film’s highlights. Alma Moreno shared how she started the kamison trend to exude sexiness, Rosanna Roces in her approach when doing some lovemaking scenes, Ara Mina running with just a plain white shirt, and Maui Taylor’s first girl on girl onscreen kiss only to be bothered by a snake.
In some ways, this scene best encapsulates what made Pornstar a tribute to its genre at best, and a shaky experiment at worst. Part of me thinks that it would have fared well as a straight documentary-type approach instead of a feature-length narrative story, but then it’s clear that it’s not the film’s intent at all. Ironically enough, this scene ended up being a reflection on how Pinoy sexy films are done here – tease a bit, but never go all the way.”
Cydel Gutierrez, SFFR: “The unscripted drum scene in Darryl Yap’s Paglaki Ko, Gusto Kong Maging Pornstar is one of the most genuine scenes I’ve seen this year, thanks to the organic chemistry and contrasting/complementing personalities between four former bold stars: Maui Taylor, Alma Moreno, Rosanna Roces, and Ara Mina. This scene alone further evinces that Yap’s actors can carry the weight of his films without his interference. What’s special about this scene is its humanizing approach given to these former bold stars that the movie industry has long deprived them for years. Through their collective real-life past stories as movie stars, we finally get a glimpse of what’s inside their overexposed skin and their muffled mouths as women subjected to sexism by the predominantly patriarchal movie industry. Its subversion of the prevalent male gaze through an empathetic but comical throw and catch of dialogues is a testament to how letting women take over their own bodies and speak their own truths can advance a boring and overused narrative. It’s a commendable directing choice for Yap and he should do this more often–listen to his actors more.”
Darryl Yap, writer/director: “I remember writing the scene—feeling very, very cautious, kasi it’s the first scene to be shot na may involvement na ng stories from their past. Pero pa-intro pa lang ako, sumagot na agad sila, ‘Direk, napakatactless mo tapos sa amin, nahihiya ka!’ So I wrote the whole lublob sa drum scene in front of them. It was just a skeletal guide, full of keywords and blocking sketches.
Yung napanood ng viewers is an instant product of collaboration, brutal honesty and sensitivity. Andaming revelations, and usually pare-pareho sila. Andami ring di naisama sa cut, kasi too truthful to be told, baka may magalit na leading man o ano.
Natural Actresses. Gems of the Industry.”
Farewell to Ha, Historya ni Ha
Skilty Labastilla, SFFR: “When the love of Hernando’s life was forced to marry another man, Hernando (a dialed-in John Lloyd Cruz) felt that there is nothing in the world left talking about. Speech is now futile. So he hides behind Ha, his puppet, in communicating with the people journeying with him to an island of hope. Over the course of the journey, Ha proves to be a steady source of reason and good humor for the distraught Hernando. But after another unfortunate tragedy towards the film’s end, Hernando feels it is time to face reality and use his own voice again. The scene where he bids goodbye to Ha in the sea on a quiet, moonlit night is gut-wrenching even as it is not entirely unexpected. Only masters like Lav Diaz can make viewers cry for a puppet’s leaving.”
Daph Bajas, SFFR: “The doll Ha becomes Diaz’s (and Hernando’s) shadow/conscience/Lady Macbeth figure into the void. There is beauty and candor in Hernando bidding goodbye, with only the full moon and the occasional lightning illuminating the screen. Bodies of water, nighttime and goodbyes are never new foregrounds for Diaz, yet here it’s one of his quickest and most non-lingering. Hernando and Ha are indivisible, and it’s by this instance that Hernando already feels that he is ready to make peace with the uncertainty of the future.”
Lav Diaz, writer/director: “Saad ng kritikong si Noel Vera sa eksena ng pamamaalam ni Hernando kay Ha: ‘Later, what is arguably the film’s most painful moment also happens to be its most beautiful: Hernando standing hip-deep in seawater with Ha while the moon glares down from high overhead, the belly of storm clouds crackling with thunder to the distant left.’ (Critic After Dark, BusinessWorld, November 30, 2021)
Ang eksenang iyon ang huling shot na kinunan ko sa pelikulang Historya ni Ha, at naganap ang huling eksenang iyon ng shooting sa dalampasigan ng maayang bayan ng Sibaltan sa hilagang Palawan. Tinanong din ako ni Noel sa email kung magkano ang ginastos ng produksyon sa CGI (computer generated imagery). Sinabi kong walang CGI na ginamit sa pelikula dahil sarili kong pera ang ginastos sa pelikula, at yung mismong kabuuang gastos sa pelikula ay hindi magkakasya kung magsiCGI kami ng ganung eksena. At ang ginamit kong kamera ay ang aking mumurahing Sony A7SII. At nang malaman ni John Lloyd Cruz na mula sa sarili kong bulsa ang ginagastos sa pelikula ay buong pagpapakumbabang ibinalik niya ang ibinayad ng produksyon sa kanya upang maidagdag pa namin sa gastusin.
Ang mahika ng paglikha ng cinema ang lumikha sa eksenang iyon. Hindi ko inakalang maringal ang liwanag ng buwan sa gabing iyon, hindi ko inasahang magiging labis ang hinahon ng karagatan sa gabing iyon, hindi ko inasam na sasabay ang mga pagkidlat at pagkulog sa kalayuan sa gabing iyon, hindi ko hiniling na maghatid ang langit ng napakanipis na ambon sa gabing iyon. Gaya sa pagdaloy ng isang dakilang tula, gaya nang halina ng isang himig, katulad nang hindi maarok na kaibuturan ng siphayo, isa lamang akong saksi sa isang hiwaga ng buhay sa gabing yaon, isa lamang akong kasangkapan sa hiwaga ng uniberso ng cinema.”
“Si Filemon” karaoke, Filipiñana
Miguel Edosma, SFFR: “Throughout the course of its runtime, the commentary on poverty can be felt throughout Filipiñana. Director Rafael Manuel left behind some brilliant metaphors that highlight the contrast between the rich and the poor. But it was during the climactic karaoke scene that the message about it was finally delivered.
After Isabel receives her paycheck, she and her friends go to a karaoke bar to sing, smoke, and drink. Isabel then sings an old folk song, ‘Si Filemon’, at her friend’s insistence. ‘Si Filemon’ is a Cebuano folk song about a fisherman who spends his meager but hard-earned money on a bottle of tuba. In between the song’s words, she finds herself. The camera closes in on her to completely isolate her for this realization. She tries to force a smile, but her facial expression can no longer conceal the heartbreaking revelation and profound malaise, melancholy, and ache she feels from the song.
Like Filemon, Isabel grasps at any pleasure she can find in order to cope with the hard work. Even more so, it dawns on her that she’s forever trapped in this restrictive system that doesn’t favor the poor and marginalized like her.”
Wowie Lagman, SFFR: “Compared to what most of us are accustomed to, this scene, on paper, would look pale. No outrageous outbursts and sharp dialogues, tearjerking confrontations or awe-inspiring shots. It’s just a group of co-workers drinking and singing in a bar.
It’s ‘happy hour’ without the happy part. And that’s what makes this profoundly impactful.
It’s an accurate depiction of our psyche as working Filipinos, regardless of where you fall on the economic bracket and questions the reasoning behind our tendencies.
It speaks volumes on how we have been conditioned to reward ourselves and splurge the moment we get paid for our work even when we don’t really have to (or want to). And we end up thinking, ‘Was it worth it?’ or ‘Did I really like it?’
It’s like what people these days always say: ‘Deserve ko ‘to’.
But do we really? I think this is what the writer wants to raise here. Yes, we do deserve some pat on the back for getting through the day. But does it mean unnecessarily spending our hard-earned-yet-still-not-enough money on ‘happy hour’?
Isabel only wants to have a taste of life’s good cake and have idle time on an al fresco restaurant while enjoying a smoke. But she can’t. She has to work. (Ironically, her work is helping others enjoy their idle time.)
But when her friends ask her to and enjoy, she seems half-hearted. While the rest were having fun with songs and their drinks, she sits there quietly, a cigarette in her hand–perhaps the only semblance of luxury from the fantasy life she can afford from her fantasy–like someone who is having fun perfunctorily.
She wants to enjoy life, but when given the chance–in a manner that’s plausible for the lifestyle she has–she refuses to dive in. Maybe because it’s not her idea of a good time?
Then she was forced to sing. (Is it because in our culture, singing in a bar is the sign that you’ve really had a good time?) Ironically, the song she picks–the one she’s humming at the beginning–was a slap in reality. That just like Filemon, she worked, earned, and squandered her money away on what she thought would give happiness.”
Kyle Nieva, producer: “We shot this scene in a dilapidated bar along EDSA. It was the only scene we scheduled for that day, so we had the luxury of a whole night to perfect this oner. It’s our breather from the drowning hectares of the golf and country club. It’s when we’re snapped out of our daydream with Isabel and presented with a more realistic and familiar Filipino imagery. It is in this scene that Isabel utters for the first time the lyrics of ‘Filemon’ which she had been merely humming in preceding scenes, and her singing magically reinforces the themes we explored throughout the film.”
Divine Revelation, Kids on Fire
James Espinoza, SFFR: “WWJCD — Discovering masturbation is a rite of passage for young boys. It’s the instant the world lets them in on the secret of its rapturous (*wink*) ecstasy. What’s become a classic euphemism for the brisk up and down motion of jerking off are earthquake tremors. Kids on Fire pokes fun at this cliché and elevates it to divine stakes by juxtaposing it to a Christian youth camp, where every waking moment is devoted to religious indoctrination and the denouncement of lustful sins (among the litany of many other transgressions). No questions allowed.
In the scene, chapter-titled ‘The Devil’, J.C. warily confesses to camp leader Sister Evelyn that he has discovered God’s gift to him — the ability to cause earthquakes by masturbating. His hesitation to speak up springs from the guilt and shame that have been morally inscribed and reinforced by every Bible verse they recite. To his surprise, Sister Evelyn is intrigued, wondering whether such a gift is actually from the Devil and not God, but ultimately eggs on young J.C. to demonstrate with some sizable motivation from her bosom.
Funny is key to why the scene works and how it maintains a degree of wholesomeness despite the subject matter. The events unfolding are sensitive but never perverted and are only inciting incidents to earth-shattering (I know, sorry!) consequences.
Sister Evelyn (played deliciously by Mystica) getting jizzed on the face should be the highlight of the scene, but that distinction goes to the doppelganger reveal. This twist is the film’s boldest statement, heavily implying that evangelist and temptress, good and evil, can take on the same form. It’s no coincidence that the camp counselor’s name literally has Eve in it, and the boy is named ‘J.C.’ WWJCD. What would J.C. do, indeed. Unlike his namesake, J.C. gives in to the temptation, and he is rewarded with salvation.”
Bernard Santos, SFFR: “Kids on Fire is a satirical short film to the fullest and an entertaining ‘finding yourself’ film set in the world of teenage religious doubt and confusion. The ‘divine revelation’ scene is not only an adolescent’s sexual awakening for JC (Alexis Negrite) but also a revelation of the hypocrisy and immoral act of the religious group he belongs to. The film serves as an ode to the sexually innocent, pushing the idea that when a person’s curiosity is suppressed, they lose a sense of who they are. While JC is initially fearful that his newfound sexual freedom might send him to hell, it is in fact the people around him that pose the greatest threat to him. This ejaculation scene is pivotal and the turning point of the film about its sensitive subject: religion vs sex.”
Kyle Nieva, writer/director: “This scene was supposed to take place in a locker room, where J.C. and Brother Wally are the last ones to leave the shower stalls. We had to revise on set at the last minute due to logistical constraints, so we made J.C.’s perplexing discovery happen during bed time–when all eyes are closed. It is not unprecedented that religious figures engage in sexual activities–and sometimes abuse–even right in our places of worship. We hold many religious leaders in very high regard for the holiness and total devotion that they show us; however, behind closed doors, some have fallen short. It is this pretense and hypocrisy that we tried to touch on in this scene.”
Ending, Rabid: HM?
Mayk Alegre, SFFR: “Isa na marahil sa pinakanakakabalisa o nakakapraning na sintomas ng COVID-19 ay ang mawalan ng panlasa. Pero sa pelikulang Rabid, malasa at masarap sa mata ang pinakahuling kuwentong ‘HM?’ kung saan sentral sa naratibo ang sikretong sangkap. Bago ang mga huling sikwensya, naluluhang nagbahagi si Princess Mallari (Donna Cariaga) sa mga ka-online meeting kung ga’no kahirap ang kasalukuyang sitwasyon na parang hindi mo na alam minsan kung tama pa ba ‘yung ginagawa mo. ‘Nakakapagod din po.’ Totoo. Para kang masisiraan ng ulo at sobrang hirap maghanap ng trabaho sa Pilipinas lalo na no’ng dumami ang mga kompanyang nagsarado at nagbawas ng mga empleyado.
Nagsimula ang pinakanagmantsang mga eksena nang umabot sa puntong wala nang kontrol ang anak n’yang si Nico (Yñigo Delen) at hayok na hayok na nilalantakan lagi ang niluluto n’yang kare-kare dahil sa isang lihim na resipeng nakahalo rito. Malagim ang mga sumunod na nangyari nang sumugod na rin ang kapitbahay n’yang si Sam (Chrome Cosio) na maulol-ulol na sa paghihintay ng order nito hanggang sa mapuno na ng mga nagwawalang buhay na patay ang paligid ng bahay. Matingkad na nagsarado ang pelikula sa sunod-sunod na notifications sa laptop na natanggap na si Princess sa iba’t ibang kompanyang inaplayan n’ya habang unti-unti s’yang inuubos ng mga tao o nilalamon ng sistema na nagsilbing kulminasyon ng matalas na komentaryo ng direktor sa krisis sa pandemya, pinansya, at social media.”
Michiko Yamamoto, writer: “Production didn’t anticipate they would need so much menudo for that scene. (It was kare-kare on film but the director doesn’t eat kare-kare so he made them cook menudo instead.) After that scene, owner of the house got angry seeing his interior covered everywhere in brown sauce.”
Donato Rapido reenactment, Big Night!
Fred Hawson, SFFR: “This memorable scene came in about 15 minutes after the first hour of Jun Lana’s award-winning black comedy. Gay hairdresser Dharna needs to have his name removed from the drug watch list of their neighborhood within the night. Following a tip, Dharna and his boyfriend Zeus go to seek help from the chief of Area 8, who turn out to be famous movie action star Donato Rapido. Zeus is in sheer awe of Rapido’s glowing presence since the actor had been his idol since childhood. After they shake hands, twangy Western music starts playing, as Zeus and Rapido begin to reenact a hostage-taking scene from Rapido’s film Koboy Kilabot for which he won Best Actor at the Metro Manila Filmfest.
Donato Rapido, in his cowboy hat, plaid shirt and brown leather jacket, goes ‘Ka-pang, ka-pang!’ mimicking the pinging sound of bullets as he fires an imaginary pistol with his hands, as Zeus pretends to evade them. Zeus then takes Dharna in the crook of his arm, saying that he will kill damsel-in-distress Petula if Rapido does not surrender. As an incredulous Dharna utters a couple of half-hearted calls for help, Rapido calls out Petula’s name with an echoing effect for each syllable, while running in slow motion towards her. Zeus then begins to fire his pistol hand at Rapido, who feigns like he got hit, flails his arms around from the impact and falls down to the floor gasping, all still in slow motion.
The improvised playfulness between Arcilla (all self-absorbed with a star complex) and Antonio (wide-eyed in a star-struck fanboy moment) in this scene is probably the only moment of pure joy in this whole film. The scene may seem shallow, cornball and cheesy, but it is a lot of fun watching the deadpan pair of Arcilla and Antonio comically go through every over-the-top trope in classic Filipino action films in those two precious minutes. In stark contrast, this light-hearted moment would precede the darkest twist of the film which comes immediately after. And as a self-fulfilling prophesy, John Arcilla did win the Best Supporting Actor award in the last Metro Manila Filmfest.”
Jun Mendoza, SFFR: “Jun Lana’s latest offering takes a deep dive into the President’s ridiculous war on drugs and how its means of gathering intel has chilling effects to the ordinary Filipino shown through the eyes of Dharna (Christian Bables). In the final stretch of Dharna’s search for freedom from the watchlist, Dharna, accompanied by Zeus (Nico Antonio), encounters Donato (John Arcilla), a retired action star from the peak of Philippine action films, who happens to be Dharna’s last ‘chance’ for survival. And with Donato’s narcissism and Zeus being his #1 fan, we all know that a reenactment is bound to happen. And true enough it did.
This reenactment scene was peak comedic genius as it gave the ridiculousness of how those movies back then were written with the serious commitment in the delivery of Arcilla and Nico . Not to mention that the scene was made intentionally longer than others to capitalize on the absurdity of that situation. And the cherry on top is Dharna’s reaction and one-liner during all of that. Certainly one of the funniest scenes in Philippine Cinema in recent years.”
Nico Antonio, actor: “Noong ginagawa namin iyong eksena, sinabihan kami ni Direk Jun na gawing comical pero hindi OA na parang ‘corny’.
Habang eksena na, iniisip ko kasabay nang pag handshake ko kay Sir John (Arcilla), ‘paano ko ba ito gagawin?!’ Tapos, bumalik sa alaala ko iyong mga kontrabidang tulad nina Romy at Pacquito Diaz, Max Alvarado, Bomber Moran, at iba pa. Kaya noong bumitaw na ako ng linya, iniba ko na iyong boses ko na parang tunog kontrabida. Pero, iniisip ko rin na dapat, hindi ako marunong umarte (na sobrang hirap kapag aral ka na sa larangan ng pag-arte). Kaya noong binabaril na ako ni Sir John, inisip ko naman na mag-ala-Matrix kahit nasabihan ako na gumalaw kasi iyon iyong naging instinct ko eh.
Naririnig namin na tawa nang tawa sina Direk Jun. Masaya ako at nagustuhan niya iyong ginawa ko. Masaya rin sina Sir John at Christian. Panalo 
”
Jun Lana, writer/director: “Former action star turned politician Donato Rapido (John Arcilla) is the embodiment of our nation’s penchant for voting celebrities into power, and the scene with Zeus (Nico Antonio,) probably his greatest fan, where they reenact his most iconic role, is how I best sum up the current state of Philippine politics: ridiculous, surreal and downright insane. Initially I wanted to shoot it in one single unbroken take, but technical virtuosity often calls attention to itself too much, so in the end I decided to keep the coverage simple to allow the madness of the scene just unfold and take hold completely. Comedy is about timing and teamwork. It’s not always easy to capture on film but with persistence you can get it done. Just the faux shootout sequence alone took 3 hours to finish. It was exhausting especially for the actors, but John, Christian and Nico were professionals through and through and collaborated with me with commitment and passion. I think it turned out way better than what was on the page.”
Astrodome Zumba, Kun Maupay Man It Panahon
Vinson Gabato, SFFR: “Kun Maupay Man It Panahon is a road trip of sorts wherein the characters encounter surreal situations: from Daniel Padilla’s encounter with a carabao to Rans Rifol’s character becoming a healer. But the trippiest is the Astrodome scene.
As we follow Charo Santos’s Norma after her initial search for her husband, blaring dance music plays. We see the landscape. Apparently, a Zumba session is held just hours after the tragedy. A tiring exercise after a tiring day. Is it a shot at the misguided and exhausting ‘Filipino resilience’? Or the priorities by the government (although it’s more obvious on latter scenes)? Or just a collective fever dream because of everything? The lion on the roof of the structure notches up the surrealness of the shot. (I remember the DLSU turtles when the campus gets flooded.) An unnecessary event which is completely plausible.”
Manuel Pangaruy, SFFR: “Maraming eksena sa Kun Maupay Man it Panahon na nagpapakita ng paranoia pero ‘yong eksena na lumingon si Norma (Charo Santos-Concio) sa astrodome at nag-umpisang mag-Zumba ang mga taong nasalanta ng bagyo ang pinakatumatak sa akin. Nakita mo rin ba ang leon sa itaas na bahagi na hindi mapakali? O, ang nakita mo ay ang isang performance na sa isang normal na pagkakataon ay sa loob ng Astrodome ginagawa? Ito na siguro ang pinaka-angkop pero mapanukat na depiction ng pagkakasadlak sa kawalan ng katiyakan. Hindi na ito pangitain ng pinapangarap nating mamalas kundi isang alinlangan na nakikita natin ang mga pangitaing madalas na sa panaginip lang nakakulong. Na madalas kesa hindi ay pangkaraniwang estado ng sinumang Pilipino na nilinlang ng unos: opresyon mula sa gobyerno, pagkabalisa sa pananalasa ng pag-itsa-puwera sa totoong kasaysayan, pagnakaw ng dignidad, mga Super Typhoon na wala tayong planong lubayan.”
Jérémie Dubois, co-writer: “What I remember is that we had a few additional animals and that the lion was walking through the crowd as it were.”
Carlo Francisco Manatad, co-writer/director: “The film was mainly shot all across Luzon, but there was a location that I felt was non-negotiable, the Tacloban Astrodome. I could vividly remember the thousand people who stormed the area to get a glimpse of the production.
The Zumba scene was practically the hardest to mount, not just in terms of scale and scope but also on an emotional level. Imagine having bit players play the roles they have experienced in real life, making them perform and dance in a way that maybe some of them don’t even understand why they were doing it. I would try as much to explain why we were doing the scene. I could see lots of confused faces. But every time I looked back at them, their looks would shift from confused to looking serious, and reassuring me that they are more than willing to be part of the film and tell their story. It ended up with everyone having a good time and dancing even though the shooting was already done. Ma’am Charo even kept her promise of dancing in front of the Taclobanons after the shoot!
Regarding the Zumba song: I remember when I was in high school, that song (‘Tahong ni Karla’) was very popular. I wanted to include the track in the film, for pop culture reference and personal reasons din. We were trying to find the artist that produced the track para cleared kami with all the rights to all the songs used. We only got in touch with the wife: apparently the artist died during Yolanda.”
The massacre, On the Job: The Missing 8
Jay Lacanilao, SFFR: “The massacre scene in The Missing 8 probably hits differently to Filipinos compared to foreigners who have seen it. For foreigners, it might be incredibly brutal, and it is, but for Filipinos, it might be too familiar and hits too close to home that its horrifying effect is no longer that bleak. But that is the horror in itself. The fact that we are desensitized by these heinous crimes we see in cinema is very telling of our current state that goes beyond art. It’s our reality.
More than that, it’s one of the best scenes of last year because of Erik Matti’s penchant for extreme brutality incorporated with flashy style. Matti did not hold back in showing this massacre as he should when this has happened in real life by people who also did not hold back. What sets Matti apart from these murderers is that he still has soul. By including family members of the murderers’ target, Arnel Pangan (Christopher de Leon), he emphasized the mercilessness of this massacre and that it could happen to anyone innocent–including his viewers. And for them to be unceremoniously buried just adds up to the revulsion. This scene is also the turning point for The Missing 8‘s lead Sisoy (John Arcilla) to turn against his own corrupt self, which shows how institutions only exist for their own gain.”
Chuck Gutierrez, actor: “The massacre scene was shot last March 2020. We badly needed to finish the scene because of the rumors of a lockdown due to the pandemic. We spent the whole night with Christopher de Leon and the rest of the Missing 8 inside that small car. Despite the very tough scenes, everything went smoothly. The entire cast wanted to have our picture taken for posterity only to find out that Christopher had to leave the as soon as we wrapped. The next day, we were informed that Christopher was positive for Covid-19 and the lockdown officially started in the country. The Missing 8 literally went missing since we needed to be quarantined.”
Scene of the Year: Ending, Kun Maupay Man It Panahon
Den Lebantino, SFFR: “The last five minutes of Kun Maupay Man It Panahon brings a confluence of emotional experience, evoked by a montage depicting catharsis and uncertainties. For Norma (Charo Santos), saying goodbye to her husband is the closure she needs, a goal defining her journey through the typhoon-ravaged Tacloban. Manatad is keen on his character’s psyche which allows for a deeper understanding of resilience and its motivation. Asin’s ‘Himig ng Pag-ibig’ accompanying the final shots reflects Norma’s cathartic moment on the elevated rock, the fireworks adorning the sky behind her.
Andrea (Rans Rifol) reaches her own bliss. She sings before the people who enthroned her. By her bliss and Norma’s relief, Manatad pulls off the kind of culmination that is quite sublime—the weight put on what these characters gain in the face of a tragedy rather than what they lose—not an attempt to romanticize hope but to present survival as allegorical: a phenomenon that transcends reality, a virtue that can stand the wounds of the flesh, a path traversed by a suffering soul reaching its destination.
But Manatad grounds us back to the truth. We see Miguel (Daniel Padilla) in the final frame, perturbed as he waits for his mother Norma. He stands at a ship’s entrance, uncertain of how this ends for him. In the absence of the song’s words expressing the joys of a fulfilled longing, Miguel disappears from the screen. Manatad leaves us with a question unanswered—a tragedy lingering through the tentativeness of a resolution.”
Leo Baltar, SFFR: “The ending sequence of Kun Maupay Man It Panahon is where director Carlo Francisco Manatad elevates the absurdity of the film’s premise, maximizing every material at his disposal. Once trying to navigate the unease of their predicament, the three characters now surrender to the air of hopelessness as they part ways. Like everything else, logic seems immaterial at this point.
We observe Andrea (Rans Rifol) singing before a crowd of people who all seem like they’ve already found a new home in this broken ship of a town, making do with what is left in the rubble. As Asin’s ‘Himig ng Pag-ibig’ permeates the atmosphere, everything morphs into a different energy, like in a concert of some sort. We see the crowd, engulfed in bright lights, wave their hands in the air.
Then, it all skews towards spectacle, as we witness Norma (Charo Santos-Concio) dance her miseries away amid fireworks shining through a looming storm. Is she out of her mind? We can never tell. Left on his own in the town’s port, Miguel (Daniel Padilla), meanwhile, awaits the two women in his life, as the survivors rush and stumble to their feet to step aboard the ship sailing to Manila. Miguel says nothing, because what is there left to say? Somehow, it’s enough to observe all the emotions take shape in his eyes, haunting us even after the screen fades to black.
One might say that this final sequence pokes fun at the survivors of the typhoon, but this narrative unit captures this sentiment best: survivors of any crisis have their own ways of confronting their traumas, no matter how eccentric they may look. After all futile attempts to make sense of a tragic situation, is it really that offensive for them to escape even just for a while, especially when relief feels like a distant tomorrow?”
Carlo Francisco Manatad, co-writer/director: “The ending was very clear in my head, three independent shots with their own ‘endings’. But we only thought of the ending track/music when we were doing post. It was supposed to be scored by Andrew Florentino (composer). But during one of our previews, Benjo Ferrer (editor) placed the Asin track over the ending sequence, and right then and there, we knew we wanted to get the rights to the music. It just felt right. We shot the ending shot of Daniel as the last shot of the whole production.”