The human Bonifacio
If you would watch only one movie in the Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF), let it be “Bonifacio: Ang Unang Pangulo.”
Sure, it is not a perfect or even flawless movie. And I do hope it is not yet the definitive movie on “The Great Plebeian” because there are aspects of Andres Bonifacio’s life that deserve a deeper look and a more empathetic treatment.
But in a movie season dominated by rom-coms, horror flicks and recycled comedies, “Bonifacio” stands out as the lone survivor of the MMFF’s once-proud tradition of being a showcase of the best of Filipino filmmaking.
One would think that Filipinos, no matter what age, would know the full story of Bonifacio’s life, especially the founding of the Katipunan, the revolution’s painful unfolding, and the even more painful and sorrowful tale of its tragic denouement.
Adrian Cristobal, in his text for the sumptuous coffee-table volume on Bonifacio, wrote that the betrayal and death of the “Supremo” was the “dirty secret” of the Philippine Revolution, the “original sin” that marred what should have been a glorious and triumphant liberation from a colonial power.
But it seems we have forgotten, or have not fully grasped, the details of this story of bravery and betrayal. And even if one already knows the general outline of the Revolution story, some details still manage to astonish and raise hackles. If only for this, for opening our eyes, especially those of young people who know of Bonifacio only as an iconic figure in peasant clothes, bolo upraised and clutching a Katipunan flag, the movie has done our nation a great service.
* * *
My main beef against “Bonifacio” is that it tells the story of the Supremo and the Katipunan in vignettes and staged scenes rather than as one seamless story that builds tension and emotion.
This is because the movie is framed as two stories told simultaneously: the historical account and the present-day reflections of a group of young people and an elderly narrator.
Just as we are immersed in the tumultuous events of Bonifacio’s life, the narrative arc switches back to the young people, interrupting the complicated flow of events and personalities leading up to the Revolution against Spain.
I know this technique may have been deemed necessary by the producers and filmmakers, who may have been concerned that the movie would not appeal to young people trying to find a respite from their classrooms and books. The use of teen actor Daniel Padilla as the lead in the contemporary segment was also telling. The producers clearly wanted to build on Padilla’s popularity among the tweens, teens, young adults and even the “matronas” to draw a larger audience.
But Padilla’s episodes serve merely as commentary and narrative bridges. His story has a promising beginning, but it is not resolved satisfyingly. Surely, Bonifacio could have had a deeper impact on a young man’s life than just a classroom report!
* * *
The young Padilla’s uncle, Robin, fares better as Bonifacio, bringing to the hero’s persona a touch of swagger and self-confidence that many historical accounts tend to ignore, focusing instead on his humble beginnings. But it certainly takes tons of belief in oneself and one’s cause for an erstwhile warehouseman and vendor to grab the initiative from dithering reformers (such as Jose Rizal, as portrayed in the movie) to launch a truly national movement for liberation.
I am all the more moved by the way the love story between Andres and Oryang, the Katipunan’s “Lakambini” Gregoria de Jesus, is told. Oryang here, portrayed by an unexpectedly confident Vina Morales, is no shrinking violet. Instead, she is a dedicated revolutionary herself, and one willing to buck tradition and parental control (as she does in a famous letter to a local authority praying for intervention when her
father prevents her from seeing her beloved) to join Andres in their struggle.
While Robin Padilla’s habitual swagger and propensity for posing can turn annoying, he does have his moments of tenderness and vulnerability, dialing down his action star mannerisms for a more human portrayal.
Unfortunately, both Andres and Oryang are not given enough opportunities to emerge from the clichés of historicity as fully realized human beings. There just isn’t enough time in a film that swings from past to present. Indeed, at times I felt like catching my breath from having to keep pace with the brisk and efficient storytelling. A little more introspection and reflection would have been welcome.
* * *
But again, it is a relief to finally see on film an attempt to portray Bonifacio as a person rather than as an icon, symbol or looking glass that reflects more the politics and ideology of the observer and commentator than of the man himself.
Director Enzo Williams and the scriptwriters deserve commendation for this effort, as do the producers (that includes the Padilla family), for bucking the tide of commercialism and the race for box-office receipts that now characterize the MMFF. Can Filipinos find the time and the inclination to reflect on our beginnings as a nation and an independent state in this season of glitz and gift-giving? For all our sakes, especially for young people still looking for role models and sources of national and personal pride, I certainly hope so.
“Bonifacio” may not end up among the top-grossers alongside the surefire hits, but I certainly hope it garners the recognition it deserves. If you can watch only one movie in the MMFF, make it “Bonifacio,” make it about discovering ourselves and the story of our nation.
