Last May 19-23 I attended a very enlightening workshop on writing about film at the UP Film Institute. Posted below is the content of a critical paper I was asked to write using the historical perspective. It's on the film "Kisapmata" by Mike de Leon. There are minor changes that resulted form proof-reading, verifying names and what I'd like to believe as improved rhetoric.
Kisapmata
Chilling cello music opens the movie, thus setting an ominous tone that prepares the spectator for a suspenseful and horrifying experience. It accompanies an opening text that serves as a reminder of the factual source of the story content. The ominous mood plus the reminder of the story's historical source is a foreboding statement of the movie's preoccupation with the darker side of life.
The movie narrates a horrifying story of a daughter who suffers the tyranny of an overbearing father. Mila and her mother live under the suffocating grip of Diosdado also called Tatang. Even after marriage Mila is enslaved by the unbending will of Tatang who tightens his hold on his only daughter. Striving to get away from the madness Mila and Noel summon the courage to face Tatang who, in his irrational lust for control, shoots everybody before committing suicide himself.
The house guarded by barbed-wire and iron grills, a virtual prison for those within, creates an oppressive atmosphere. Equally oppressive is the bleak, brown interior. The characters are walled-in as the shots scarcely reveal windows and very little light is allowed in. The stifling sensation is further emphasized by the contrast provided by the exterior scenes which provide a breath of fresh air, and the house of Noel where cool green and white abound.
The ominous music is a consistent feature in the movie that constantly reminds the spectator of a lurking evil; a manipulative force that consumes and destroys all that comes within its grasp. Boisterous and noticeably physically larger than any of the other characters, Diosdado is the monstrous embodiment of control. He orders around his submissive wife and subtly coerces his daughter and son-in-law, Noel, to bend to his will. He is king of his house: “Sa bahay na ito ako ang masusunod!” he sternly reminds Noel. He is also suspicious as the “Psycho-esque” shots of him peering through the upstairs window to spy on his daughter betray his distrust. The same shots also allude to his almost god-like status in the lives of those close to him. He is above them watching their every move. A brilliant dissolve from an image of Christ the King, to which Mila and Noel are praying to, to Tatang sitting in his throne, further underscore this point. And compared to Tatang the images that abound the house are simple statues, deaf, inutile, dead. They and what they represent are ineffective weapons against the malevolent will of Tatang.
Tatang is god. His specter haunts the nightmares of his daughter where even the sacred confidence of the confessional is violated by the intrusive demon. The same nightmares betray the terrible fear of Mila which her journal entries corroborate. Her journal also brings to light her strong hatred for her father; hate that is kept at bay by her fear and dependence on Tatang, who still brings her to and from work even in her 26 years. Mila’s hate and fear are bastards of an incestuous rape that also put into question the paternal legitimacy of the child she is carrying—a mystery that the movie leaves unresolved.
Placed within the context of the year it was made, Kisapmata criticizes the government of the Marcos era. Shot in the year martial law ended, the movie holds up a mirror to the government. The reflection that it gives is that of a monster that inspires fear and hatred in the people. The country is like a house that imprisons its citizens under the rule of a suspicious father figure who fashions himself the king of a Maharlika Republic. The megalomaniacal dictator also puts himself in equal status with Christ as the blasphemous painting in the Agoo church once revealed.
Tatang is a perfect cinematic embodiment of the president who used force and fear to solicit obedience. The Ilocano ex-cop, who sleeps with a pistol under his pillow, runs the house like a prison as its barbed-wire and iron grates remind the spectator of the prison camps that choke the voices of those who oppose the will of the leader of the police-state. As the politician his character satirizes, Tatang tries to present himself as likable, even apologetic and re-conciliatory. He admits his fault to Mila and Noel in a seemingly sincere repentance. He relapses, though, as he resorts to old tactics using the fabricated illness of Nanang to lure Mila back into his grasp.
1981 also showcases the farce that is called the general elections and referendum. Lifting martial law and pledging fairness, the elections were supposed generate change. Instead, Marcos relapses, and the old dog goes back to his old tricks.
The movie hurls accusations of corruption at the government. While negotiating the price of a revolver Diosdado admits to corruption as a cop. People in office steal; “lahat sila may kupi,t” referring to his and his colleagues actions. He also offers advice on how to get the choice appointments: “May padrino ‘yun kaya na-promote . . . Kaya gayahin mo yun kung gusto mong ma-promote!” These rapier stabs strike at the heart of the corrupt system where the favored from the top to the bottom of the food-chain dip their greedy hands into the national coffers, all with the blessing and example of the head-of-state.
The other characters, but Mila most of all, are embodiments of the victims of tyranny. They all fear the tyrant and suffer from his methods. Not only the poor suffer, the middle-class suffers with them. Mila and Noel are not poverty stricken but they are forced into dependence as Tatang robs them of 10,000 Pesos. They are allegorical representations of businesses taken-over by the master and his dogs.
The people are religious. Images of saints and representations of God fill the house; the country. They go to church and pray. They ask for strength and salvation. In desperate times they turn to God, but their supplications an inefficacious. They live in an inescapable, oppressive nightmare that takes their life in the end.
The movie ends with a very bold and pessimistic resolution. In the house that imprisons, everybody dies. The comic whimsy of the final score suddenly jolts the shocked spectator. It strikes an ironic chord of Greek tragedy. In an effort to control all, even his fate, Tatang loses all. It also delivers a dark punch-line and reminds the audience of a satirical end. It holds up a mirror to society and shows the horrifying reality that people live in. Both referentially and symptomatically the movie avows its early claim: it is based on actual horrifying events.
Arthur Joseph I. Vito Cruz
23 May 2008