Going In Circles

To the best of my knowledge, three of Crisaldo Pablo’s digital films have had their commercial run in Manila’s movie theaters (often at Robinson’s Movie World only), namely Duda, Bathhouse, and currently showing, Bilog. I have seen all three of his films during their regular run, and in all three times I’ve caught myself wondering, “Why do I subject myself to this?”

One answer I tell myself (with much consternation though) is that there are few Filipino film makers who tackle gay themes upfront and fearlessly. By supporting Pablo’s efforts I hope that this will encourage his tribe to increase—but with a certain caveat. We need fearless film makers, yes, but we need better ones too.

To be fair Pablo has become more daring in every film he’s made. Duda (“Doubt”) looks at the life of several men in the metro, their doubts about their sexuality and their partners’ fidelity. Bathhouse examines the meet-and-meat market of a gay bathhouse, touching on the lives of those who converge there. Bilog, while exploring more gay lives, is much more ambitious in form and content.

The first sign of Pablo’s ambition is in the clever title: bilog or “circle” refers to the Quezon Monument Circle, the setting where most of the action takes place. It also refers to how the characters are just aimlessly going around in circles with their lives (mind you, this movie is not just about the rent-boys roaming around the Circle; it is also populated with vendors, government workers and the other kind of “call-boy,” the call-center variety). It refers to how Chris, the central character, is clever at manipulating others (“pinapaikot lang sila”) and at making money (“nagpapaikot ng pera”). It refers to the saying “Bilog ang mundo” (“The world is round”); what comes up must come down, what seems good turns out bad, and change is inevitable. And bilog is also a word-play for libog or “lust”—often the very reason why worlds are turned upside down.

Structurally Pablo also makes the film go around in circles; he starts with one incident—a robbery involving Chris inside a jeepney—and repeatedly goes back to it throughout the movie. In between he explores the lives of each character. This Tarentino-esque, multi-story structure also worked for Go and Amelie. In fact, Pablo goes French on us by employing a third-person omnipresent narrator doing voice-overs throughout the movie. Another conceit is the way Pablo reveals, by repeating scenes all over again ala Amores Perros, how the stories of each character—at first seemingly detached from one another—actually intersect in surprising, not too obvious ways. He also plays with the medium itself; he fast-forwards the video or runs it in reverse.

Tarentino, Go, Amelie and Amores Perros—such heady company, right? Unfortunately aiming for the best isn’t the same as reaching it. While Pablo gets an “A” for “A”-ffort, his latest film shows that he still hasn’t learned his filmmaking lessons well. I think Bilog looked better on the page than onscreen.

First and most glaring are the technical deficiencies which this movie sadly shares with his two previous ones. Many evening scenes are too dark (and a lot of the action happens in shadows), and even daylight scenes are unevenly shot. The live sound, if not garbled or muffled, suffers from a cacophony of incidental sounds. It’s a chore to sit through the whole movie. How can a viewer get lost in the story when he’s at a loss as to what’s happening onscreen?

The characters are also poorly fleshed-out. With the exception of Chris, most of the other characters are flimsily written, one-note stereotypes. A multi-character movie often needs better-skilled actors to bring to life via action what the words in the script have no time to convey. Unfortunately Pablo employed newbies in this film, participants of an acting workshop whose culminating project was to act in this film. Most of them are earnest in their roles, but skill is needed more than just enthusiasm. I could also say the same for Pablo’s direction.

The use of a narrator is a tricky act to pull off properly. While Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s narration helped his film reach heights of poetry, Pablo’s voice-overs have the over-all effect of washing instructions being read. Am I too harsh? Well, his narrator asks a lot of existentialist questions and at times tells us the “lessons” gleaned from the scenes instead of allowing us viewers to figure things out for ourselves; I’m reminded of a bad Philosophy teacher.

Pablo’s attempts are as admirable as his failures are frustrating. Is it a lack of resources or of skill? I’ve seen other Filipino independent digital films and a lot of them achieved a level of technical competence. Maybe one day Pablo’s skills will match his enthusiasm; until then he’ll just be a filmmaker going around in circles.

And for now we can only sit quietly in the dark and endure a couple of hours in silent support of independent Pinoy pink cinema. If you’re going to watch Bilog, bring lots of patience.