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I’m very late to the party, but I finally saw Respeto and it’s awesome.

Hendrix (Abra) is a young man who lives in the slums of Pandacan, Manila. He has no prospects, except to get killed in the ongoing war against drugs. His world is a toilet: when police arrive to demolish their shanties, the residents fight back with shit and piss.

Hendrix whiles away his days with his friends Betchai (Chai Fonacier) and Payaso (Yves Bagadiong), and dreams of becoming a rapper. He joins rap battles where only the most savage FlipTop rhymers survive, and on his first attempt his misogynist verses are shredded by a woman. Ha! Then he crosses paths with Doc (Dido de la Paz), a broken-down old poet who runs a second-hand bookstore.

You think you’ve seen this movie, but you haven’t.

Tough, smart, honest, Alberto Monteras’s Respeto is what we need from the cinema in these dark times. It reminds us of the cycles of violence we are trapped in, and how every act of violence no matter how seemingly justified mires us deeper in this cycle. Certain aspects of the plot may be a stretch, but the magic of cinema is that we overlook these flaws because we are caught up in the moment.

Respeto is set in a vicious struggle for survival, but it rejects the miserablism of poverty porn to hold out a glimmer of hope. Art will not make you rich and famous. Art will not bring you love. Art will not even save you, but it will make you worth saving.

Of course we had to see Signal Rock. It is the latest collaboration of director Chito Roño and writer Rody Vera, the same team that brought us Badil, a film that should be required viewing on every election year. Signal Rock is about a remote island community where nearly all the women have left to find jobs in Manila, Olongapo, Europe, anywhere they can work and send money home. The men left behind spend their days drinking and making plans that never come to fruition, waiting for their remittances.

(I love the title, it makes me think of an album by The Clash. Also it’s a movie about the costs of world domination.)

The OFW diaspora has been the subject of many films and TV programs, initially a lot of melodramas about mothers separated from their children, fathers blowing their remittances on drink and women, children becoming wild and rebellious, etc. Signal Rock takes an aspect (the reversal of traditional roles) of a well-worn topic (OFWs) and addresses its complications and consequences with nuance and unfailing intelligence. Everything about it is excellent, beginning with Roño’s nimble direction, Vera’s insightful script, and the wonderful performance of Christian Bables and the entire cast. Signal Rock bears repeated viewing because so much is packed into its two-hour running time. It is the opposite of poverty porn: these people are not defined by their poverty, but by their unflinching humanity in less than ideal circumstances.

From the arresting opening images of Intoy on the only spot in the island that has a cellphone signal (Leche talaga yang mga telco, said the voice in my head), holding up his crappy old phone with a fork attached in hopes of getting better reception, Signal Rock demands and earns your undivided attention. I saw it yesterday at UP Film Center (There are screenings today at 230, 5, and 7pm, Run) with my friend, who seldom goes to the movies. She was so moved by Signal Rock that she emailed me this morning with her thoughts. If you have seen Signal Rock, please join our discussion in Comments.

J,

Until our next film,
N

N,

Signal Rock made the expedition to QC across the sea of traffic worth it.

The situation in the film—women leaving the island to support their families—is true all over the Philippines. It used to be the men who left to become laborers in Saudi Arabia or Manila, but now it’s the women. This is very interesting when you consider that Filipino culture is supposed to be macho, so macho that it’s spilled over to toxic masculinity. Do the men feel emasculated now that women are fulfilling what is traditionally believed to be their role? And do their feelings of helplessness, aggravated by drink and trash talk, cause them to try to reassert their masculinity by doing violence to women?

Given that women are the breadwinners of this country, why do they not get more respect? Why are women still treated like breeders who must obey their fathers and husbands without question? Could we say that leaving the islands and finding foreign husbands is actually a good thing for women?

J

A different perspective from my friend, E.

J,

I found your article about Signal Rock very interesting, particularly about our culture being macho and the apparent reversal of roles.

My hometown, which I visit regularly, is a trading center supporting a rice farming community. The rich are mostly the landlords and the traders. Most of the people who are actually working are the women—vendors in the market, teachers, traders, restaurant operators, and so on. My own aunt goes to the bukid daily to convey the instructions of my uncle and monitor their proper implementation. At crucial times like planting and harvesting, he will deign to visit the farm, but it is not necessary for him to visit the farm daily.

While there is a macho culture, lots of drinking, gambling, sabong, and related activities, these are all supported by the women. On any given day, the women are working while most of the men are moving around on their motorcycles and owner jeeps, actively pursuing manly activities, but never actually working. True, many men are engaged in the backbreaking work of actually farming, but the women are engaged in that, too.

I’ve never seen my cousins participating in the drudgery of the family business, and this is true of many of the male offspring. In the meantime, they are free to pursue their manly pursuits, cycling, driving, accessorizing cars, various sports, womanizing, secure in the thought that they can approach their parents—really, their mother—for any material needs.

I’m suggesting that perhaps our culture is not one of macho men, but rather one of spoiled mama’s boys, and their motherly enablers. The present situation of women going off to work and making the sacrifices while the men sit back and simply wait for their remittances to arrive is not a reversal, but simply more of the same.

E

And from my classmate D, whom I hadn’t seen in many years and ran into at the screening.

J,

I found the movie fresh and engaging. Christian Bables is a natural; he made me believe in the goodness of Intoy. I was rooting for Intoy! I take my hat off to this hardworking young actor.

On another note, I found it curious that many of the women who lived on the island have more money smarts than the men did. For example, the former Japayuki won a settlement big enough to have a nice house built. The woman who owns the grocery is prosperous. Even the mandarasal earns from her prayers.

In contrast, the men folk relied mainly on manual labor and barely eke out a living: Intoy’s father is a carpenter, while his brother and Damian ride motorcycles for hire.

From another point of view, I found it sneaky that a brand of rum got a product placement in the movie. In at least two scenes, the company’s logo was clearly displayed on the bottles. Damian was even shown tossing down a few shots of this rum—and in the kitchen of the house where the priest lives at that! (I’ve seen many a welcome poster in different towns prominently displaying this particular drink’s logo, and I hate it that it’s the first thing that greets visitors to these places. Grrrk!)

Incidentally, what is the relationship of the priest to Damian? And did Intoy’s father in fact rape his mother? I wish the loops of these unfinished side stories were closed. Otherwise, I think they are distracting loose ends that do little to advance Intoy’s story.

Some minor points: I thought two scenes—the scene in which the priest was turning off the lights while talking to Intoy; and the scene in which Intoy and his father were drinking and eating together in his father’s hut—were underlit. I also found Intoy’s brown makeup distracting. (If only I didn’t know how fair he is from watching Die Beautiful.)

Overall, though, I strongly recommend Signal Rock to people who seek a breather from the world’s seemingly endless stream of woes. Despite its minor flaws, this heartening and entertaining story that takes place in a pristine setting delivers the goods.

D.

Your thoughts?

Everyone’s going to watch Crazy Rich Asians during the long weekend. Hooray Asian representation in Hollywood! Also: It is a truth universally acknowledged that we want to see movies about rich people. Because they own everything and we all work for them, and because everyone wants to be them, i.e. rich.

People want to know what they’re wearing, what they’re eating, what it looks like inside their houses, and so on, so they can photograph themselves wearing, eating, and sitting on similar things in their social media accounts.

Movies about poverty and social injustice will get into prestigious film festivals, but very few people will watch them at home. However, many people will pay to watch movies about ridiculous wealth and excess, because why would you want to be reminded of your financial problems (Romantic-comic problems: Bring them on). Money is attractive. Why do you think the Marvel Cinematic Universe was anchored on a billionaire superhero character?

Now I have seen a ton of movies about rich people. Here are some excellent ones, with oversimplified descriptions.

1. Oro, Plata, Mata by Peque Gallaga. Two hacendero families in Negros survive World War II then find themselves in a world entirely changed.

Gallaga had planned to make a sequel to Oro, Plata, Mata. We want to see it. For Chrissakes let him do it. Netflix?

2. The Leopard (Il Gattopardo) by Luchino Visconti. In a newly-unified Italy, a prince deals with the fact that his class is on the wane and the newly moneyed bourgeoisie is on the rise.

3. The Rules of the Game (La Regle du Jeu) by Jean Renoir. Just a weekend party in the country with everyone’s spouse and lover present.

4. The Lady Eve by Preston Sturges. A con-woman goes after a gullible heir who doesn’t know what hit him.

5. Metropolitan by Whit Stillman. During Xmas vacation, a group of “urban haute bourgeoisie” adopt a less privileged young man who claims to hate the rich.

6. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie by Luis Buñuel. Wealthy people get dressed to go out to dinner but always get interrupted, and that’s as far as I will try to summarize a Buñuel plot.

7. The Age of Innocence by Martin Scorsese. The rich of old New York close ranks to protect their own.

As highly regarded as this movie is, I still think it’s underrated.

8. Sabrina by Billy Wilder. A fairy tale set on a Long Island estate, in which two brothers compete for the love of Audrey Hepburn as the chauffeur’s daughter.

9. The Philadelphia Story by George Cuckor. A society wedding is imperilled by the arrival of the ex-husband and the media.

10. Suspicion by Alfred Hitchcock. A sheltered heiress falls for a good-looking wastrel who might be trying to kill her.

More: The Great Gatsby by Baz Luhrman (tacky new money), Blue Jasmine by Woody Allen (scammed money), Dangerous Liaisons by Stephen Frears (decadent aristocratic money), The Makioka Sisters by Kon Ichikawa (money in decline), and of course Citizen Kane by Orson Welles (money, media, power).

And early Sharon Cuneta movies and Danny Zialcita all-star movies.

Jodorowsky is wise.

My friends and I like to consult tarot card readers. Such readings can bring up alternative outcomes that would never have occurred to us. Some readings are as good as psychotherapy.

Of course, 90 percent of professional tarot card readings are bullshit. The charlatan will fish for information, guess at what you really want, and promise it to you. The salesperson type of card reader will read something scary in your cards—An elemental is in love with you so he is thwarting all your relationships!—and then offer to sell you a spell or amulet to counter the elemental’s powers. Or else the card reader says there is something fabulous in your future—But you have secret enemies!—then offers supernatural countermeasures, for a fee.

Years ago, I tagged along with my friend Otsu to a card reading. This fortune-teller did not use tarot cards, preferring ordinary playing cards. He laid out the cards, looked at Otsu, and said, “In the 70s, you lived in Forbes Park.”

He was correct.

“Your house was white, with a green gate, and there was a path made of stones leading to the front door.”

Otsu nodded in amazement.

“Your mother is very strict and intimidating,” the fortune-teller continued.

“Yes. That’s amazing! You can see all these in the cards?” Otsu asked.

“No, miss. I was your houseboy in Forbes in the 70s.”

At least he was honest.

I knew a spookily gifted tarot reader. (Don’t ask me for her number, she died some years ago.) She said: “You will receive a job offer. Accept it, it will be good for you.” The very next day, Abe Florendo called to say he was organizing the lifestyle section of a new daily broadsheet and would I be interested in writing a column?

We are always looking for gifted tarot card readers, so let us know if you find any.

Here’s a tarot reading with a cat.

The avatar of Chris Marker’s cat Guillaume-en-Egypte, who represents Chris Marker in machinima.

The photograph of Linda Hamilton on the set of the new Terminator movie reminds me of the only time in my life I ever considered enrolling at a gym (so I could do one-arm chin-ups and fire a shotgun with one arm), and of the film that must’ve inspired Terminator (and 12 Monkeys, and Red Spectacles, and others): Chris Marker’s La Jetee. Which is really a series of photographs with a voice-over narrator, and only one scene where someone moves. Apparently Marker only had a film camera for one day. Now we can make movies with a basic phone, and none of them are La Jetee.

Chris Marker would’ve been 97 years old last July 29. He also died on July 29, a coincidence which would’ve been appreciated by an artist whose work deals with time and memory. Let’s watch La Jetee again. Are we sure we’ve seen La Jetee? That scene we remember–has it already happened? Is it a memory, is it the future?

1. It is possibly the greatest science-novel ever written.

2. Published in 1965, it presages the political turmoil and climate disasters of our time. Not a joke: In the near future we may be wearing stillsuits that recycle sweat and urine for drinking.

3. Never have we needed the Litany Against Fear more.

4. David Lynch’s loony adaptation is still fascinating.

5. Even if Alejandro Jodorowsky’s movie of Dune was never made, his ideas and designs for the film have influenced a generation of movies including Star Wars. Moebius!

6. Denis Villeneuve is making a Dune movie. He’s proven he can adapt great SF with Ted Chiang’s Story of Your Life, which became Arrival. And however you feel about Blade Runner 2049 (which I love and have seen in four countries), you have to agree that it looks fantastic.

7. Timothee Chalamet is in takes to play Paul Atreides in the movie, so you have an official reason to think about Timothee Chalamet.

8. The name “Atreides” comes from Greek mythology. They’re supposed to be descended from the House of Atreus, meaning their forefathers were Tantalus, Agamemnon..

9. Shai-hulud!

10. You can read it as a manual on how to create a messianic figure.