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How do you contain the 100 greatest Filipino films?
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How do you contain the 100 greatest Filipino films?

Allan Policarpio

The film compendium by veteran entertainment journalist Jo-Ann Maglipon and film scholar Joel David, “100 Sine. Film. Pelikula.: The 100+ Greatest Movies of Philippine Cinema,” neither limits itself strictly to that number nor presents itself as a definitive ranking of the most important Filipino films.

After all, the country’s wealth of cinematic gems is too vast to be confined by any fixed number. In fact, it only continues to grow with each new release and the rediscovery of long-lost works. Take, for instance, “Diwata ng Karagatan” (1936), which film historian Nick Deocampo located and identified just last December as the only known surviving movie produced by Jose Nepomuceno, the “Father of Philippine Cinema.”

Second, Maglipon admits that it seems “very presumptuous” to hail anything the greatest, especially if one subscribes to a definition that requires “comparing and ranking, pitting and judging, voting and awarding.”

“Who are we to say that? What are your qualifications?” she tells Lifestyle Inquirer. She could already hear the questions from a mile away.

127 films

But amid years-long editorial curation and deliberation with the screening committee—staff members of “Yes!” Magazine, which Maglipon helmed for 18 years until it ceased publication in 2018—she and David figured that what they simply wanted was a repository that would honor “wondrous, esteemed, outstanding” cinema and make sure that these works wouldn’t be forgotten by future generations.

“We have so many excellent films, some of which people don’t even know about now. I met someone who said they don’t know who Hilda Koronel is or what her works are,” Maglipon laments.

The result is a collection of 127 films—“all the cinema that speaks of our lives and loves”—accompanied by photographs, some of them rare, as well as concise, incisive reviews by David, spread across 250 pages.

Spanning titles released from 1937 to 2020, the diverse roster includes modern masterpieces like Lino Brocka’s “Maynila, sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag” and Ishmael Bernal’s “Manila by Night.” There are landmark independent titles like Aureus Solito’s “Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros” and Kidlat Tahimik’s “Mababangong Bangungot”; blockbuster war films such as Jerrold Tarog’s “Heneral Luna”; as well as overlooked masterpieces like Gregorio Fernandez’s “Malvarosa” and Gerardo de Leon’s “El Filibusterismo.”

Pages featuring the film “Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros” | Photo courtesy of Summit Books

Romantic films like Cathy Garcia-Sampana’s “One More Chance” and Antoinette Jadaone’s “That Thing Called Tadhana,” and comedies such as Jade Castro’s “Zombadings: Patayin sa Shokot si Remington” were also given equal consideration.

The list doesn’t discriminate against “bold” or sex-film genres like Chito Roño’s “Private Show” and “Curacha: Ang Babaeng Walang Pahinga.” And while the list heavily favors the masters and their classics—Lav Diaz, Marilou Diaz-Abaya, Brillante Mendoza, Mike de Leon, and more make multiple appearances—it’s not so out of touch with emerging filmmakers like Dolly Dulu, whose boys’ love romantic drama “The Boy Foretold by the Stars” is one of the more surprising picks.

Not swayed by accolades

Clearly, the selection isn’t beholden to rigid criteria. A film may have local or foreign funding, be shot in black-and-white, sepia, or color, and put up by independent filmmakers or major studios; it may be acclaimed or unheralded, mainstream or art film, X-rated or previously banned—none of these matters as long as it’s crafted by Filipino creatives.

They were also careful not to be swayed by a film’s accolades. “We didn’t want to be influenced by previous assessments of the movies. We wanted to be free and unfettered,” Maglipon says. “The awards they received are completely incidental to the listing.”

Still, certain parameters needed to be set. Movies must run for at least an hour, and more importantly, they must be of merit and accessible. They also need to exist in a viewable form, since one of the objectives of the book is to encourage viewing.

In this light, Gerardo de Leon’s “Daigdig ng mga Api,” a lost film, had to be excluded.

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Fun and instructive

If the book doesn’t get you seeking out the listed films, the reviews are nonetheless fun and instructive to read. Those about old films rarely written about are particularly illuminating.

David—a cineaste with a Ph.D. in cinema studies from New York University—draws on his knowledge of politics, history, religion, science, and art to contextualize each entry. This allows him to examine them through today’s lens without disregarding the fact that they are products of their time and their respective accomplishments.

For instance, David describes Eduardo de Castro’s “Zamboanga” (1936) as something limited by “excessive polish, exoticization, and plot development that were manic yet dismissible and politically incorrect,” owing to the fact that it was intended for a foreign audience and to showcase the Philippines’ potential “as the Asian counterpart to Hollywood.” But while it can be easily dismissed as an “easy-to-forget diversion,” the film’s “innocent, rambunctious spirit,” David writes, imbues it with “extreme watchability that most latter-day films would be grateful to possess.”

Springboard for discovery

Needless to say, it was David who served as the “patient guru.” But while he provided the academic expertise, there was also value in having a screening committee composed of earnest movie lovers and occasional reviewers who came together with no shared taste, theories, history, or associations. Because as the process of watching, rewatching, discussing, and debating wore on, they inevitably arrived at something they knew all along: film is a matter of personal taste.

“It’s exposure. It’s age. It’s moral grounding. It’s class background. It’s education. It’s time and place. It’s country. It’s culture. It’s emotional makeup. It’s IQ. It’s bias,” Maglipon says.

And it’s for this reason that “greatest” is so difficult to qualify. Readers may find themselves agreeing or disagreeing, or even searching for what may have been overlooked. But for what it’s worth, the book serves as a springboard for discovery and rediscovery, and to prompt readers to ponder and decide what “greatest” actually means to them.

“Nothing’s to stop you from going loose and curious, plunging in, and making your own exciting cinema list,” she says.

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