Pressure (Anthony Maras, 2026)

Sunny with a chance of rain 

Anthony Maras' Pressure (2026)-- based on a 2014 play by David Haig-- answers a question no one thought to ask before: can a riveting thriller be made out of weathermen? Not storm chasers (looking at you Twister); not disaster flicks involving climate change (You too Day After Tomorrow and Geostorm)-- I mean weathermen, folk who pore over isobaric maps and stare at thermometers and take windspeed readings. The science nerds.

Apparently the answer is yes if-- big if-- 1) We're talking Operation Overlord, 160,000 troops launched on 7,000 ships supported by 12,000 aircraft, arguably the largest seaborne invasion in history; and 2) Landing point's on the Normandy coast in France, at the center of one of the most unpredictable weather systems on the planet. 

Saving Private Ryan vs The Thin Red Line

Battle of the Best Pictures: The Thin Red Line vs. Saving Private Ryan

Spielberg is master of a narrow emotional range, that of a child in suburban America. Close Encounters of the Third Kind, ET the Extraterrestrial, even parts of Jaws, Poltergeist, the underrated 1941 all reflect this. More, he has the child's pleasure in toys, and in motion for the sheer pleasure of motion. His films move, and that is no small thing; they are “movies” in the fullest sense.

The Brutalist (Brady Corbet, 2024)

The fountainhead

Brady Corbet's The Brutalist is his three-and-a-half hour Vistavision biopic on a Hungarian-born Jewish architect who emigrates to the United States for a fresh start on life-- use the word 'biopic' loosely because Laszlo Toth is nominally based on Hungarian architect Marcel Breuer only Breuer wasn't a Holocaust survivor, didn't scrabble too hard for his living, and didn't fanatically insist on having every detail of his plans exactly carried out; Corbet needed spicier material to work on, hence the changes.

The film is about capitalism, anti-Semitism, racism (kind of), and the immigrant experience in America; it's big in almost every sense of the word, down to the expansive 70 mm frame-- an extraordinary achievement considering this was shot for a slim $9 million. 

Three Years Without God, in depth, in black and white

Three Years Without God, in depth, in black and white

(The film will have special screenings to be announced, and will be streaming in IWant TFC (The Filipino Channel))

(WARNING: Plot and dramatic high points in the story discussed in close and explicit detail)

I first saw Mario O'Hara's Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God, 1976) in the '90s in a fading magenta print, then saw it again-- partially restored to its former glory by L'Immagine Ritrovata-- in 2016. Earlier this week I finally saw it regraded to black-and-white by ABS CBN' s Film Restoration Project-- not necessarily meant to supplant the original colored copy but to stand alongside, as an experiment meant to address the fading colors by eliminating them.

Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Mario O'Hara, 1976) in black and white

Three Years Without God without color

This all started from a suggestion by amateur film archivist / historian / enthusiast / restorer Jojo de Vera-- 'amateur' only in the sense that he's not paid for what he passionately works for and believes in and has a vast store of knowledge and expertise about that I often call upon for advice. 

Jojo asked if I was interested in seeing Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God) without color; I said yes. When I saw it I was impressed, and suggested the idea to Leo Katigbak, head of the ABS CBN Film Restoration Project; they had a digital copy of the 2016 L'Immagine Ritrovata restoration of the film, which they regraded to black-and-white and screened this Dec. 20 at the University of the Philippines Film Center.

And the results--

The Zone of Interest (Jonathan Glazer, 2023)

House & garden

Jonathan Glazer's The Zone of Interest begins with a band of solid black held for an interminable time-- Mica Levi's sound collages growling from the big screen-- then cut to a German family picnicking on a lakeside meadow. They pack up, go home, arrive after sunset, fall asleep (mother and father in separate beds). Next morning father is hurriedly dressing but the children play a little game, blindfolding him and leading him to the front courtyard where they surprise him with a new canoe, and of course if you know anything about the film's premise you're waiting-- but even if you don't know anything you can't help but tense up as you wonder: why is the camera so claustrophobically locked in the direction of the house, why are we seeing the canoe only from one side and not the other? Finally father must leave, steps away from the canoe; cut to that long-anticipated reverse shot-- father climbs onto his horse, a guard tower looming over him as his animal walks him leisurely into work. 

The Wind Rises (Hayao Miyazaki, 2013)

Skyward bound 

(Warning-- article discusses Miyazaki's film (and his manga Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind) in some detail, including plot twists and surprises. 

In short-- see the film (maybe read the manga) first)

Can't help but feel a sharp pang watching The Wind Rises (2013), knowing this to be Hayao Miyazaki's last feature; can't help but see this as a valedictory work, a summing up of his thoughts and feelings about art and aviation and everything else at this point in his life. 

The Pianist (Roman Polanski, 2002)

Survivor

Roman Polanski's The Pianist is surprising in more ways than one. You wouldn't think Polanski capable of filmmaking on this level anymore-- the kind of seemingly simple yet elegant visual storytelling that characterized major works like Rosemary's Baby or Chinatown (and was frustratingly evident in snatches of Frantic and The Ninth Gate). You wouldn't think Polanski capable of epic filmmaking of this scale either: the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, the stretches of ruined city afterwards-- it's uncharacteristic of his work, the best of which stay at eye level and on intimate terms with their characters; they have an inwardness to them, a tendency to turn into solitary quests where the protagonist struggles against an inexplicable world bent on their destruction.

Aladin; In Despair; Hantik; Lupang Pangako; Senorito

Notes on a few LVN Films

Dona Sisang was the rare studio chief who 1) was a woman and 2) ran a commercially and artistically successful film studio as if condition #1 was irrelevant. Comedies, dramas, period epics, fantasies--her studio and stable of talents produced year after year, entertained millions with each title, made money in the bargain. She was reluctant to fund prestige dramas but found herself doing so (Badjao and Anak Dalita being the more noted examples), insisting on a touch of Filipino culture (the awit; the corrida; the folk dance) along the way. Anak failed at the boxoffice but won an armful of awards; Dona Sisang was unimpressed, asking if said awards could ever feed anyone. That said, she continued to make the occasional serious project, including Malvarosa, Kundiman ng Lahi, and Biyaya ng Lupa. 

Huk sa Bagong Pamumuhay (Huk in a New Life, Lamberto Avellana, 1953)

Rebel yell

Available on filmmaker Mike de Leon's Citizen Jake Vimeo site: Lamberto Avellana's postwar drama Huk sa Bagong Pamumuhay (Huk in a New Life, 1953), about a wartime guerrilla who out of desperation joins communist forces seeking to overthrow the Filipino government.

Three Years Without God (Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos, Mario O'Hara)

Two women

Last October my mother died.

Which to the world at large may not mean much. But it was with her in mind that I saw the digitally restored version of Mario O'Hara's Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God, 1976), recently released on iTunes.

Not an inappropriate choice. I was in a dark mood and the film--well the title says it all: three years so awful the people felt abandoned by God. 

Porco Rosso (Hayao Miyazaki, 1992)

Tocino

Hayao Miyazaki's Porco Rosso started out as a manga for a modeling magazine turned into a short for Japan Airlines grew and grew and grew into his sixth animated feature--easily his oddest and most personal film.

Mudbound (Dees Rees, 2017)

Dirt poor

Dees Rees' Mudbound (2017) adapted from the novel by Hillary Jordan tells the story of two families--one white the other black--scratching out a living on the Mississippi Delta. Two soldiers come home, one a white officer (captain of a bomber crew) the other black (a tank commander).

Dunkirk (Christopher Nolan 2017)

Brexit

Christopher Nolan's latest deals for the first time with an actual event, massive in scale and complex in nature--the mass exodus of over 300,000 soldiers from the beaches of Dunkirk, arguably the greatest retreat (some might prefer the term 'escape') in history.

Hacksaw Ridge (Mel Gibson)

Gorier than thou

Mel Gibson's latest Hacksaw Ridge tells the tale of Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield), who wanted to join the army and serve his country without firing a rifle. 

How's that again? 

Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God, Mario O'Hara, 1976) - restoration

(Now available on iTunes, with English subtitles)

Lost girl

I first saw Mario O'Hara's Tatlong Taong aong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God) in the 1996 Pelikula at Lipunan (Film and Society) festival two decades after its initial commercial run and was convinced it was the finest Filipino film ever made. Sitting down to watch the picture two decades later I have to approach carefully gingerly, like with an old friend who has been long out of sight: Has it lost its power? Has its edge dulled with familiarity and time? Does this World War 2 drama still speak to us-- to me-- with eloquence and force?

Son of Saul (Laszlo Nemes)

Saul surfer

Lazlo Nemes' extraordinarily shot and executed debut feature Son of Saul (Saul fia, 2015) answers a question I (and a few other folks) have been wondering about for some time: is there a new, fresh, perhaps even galvanizing way to realize the story of the Holocaust on the big screen?

Intramuros (The Walls of Hell, Gerardo de Leon, Eddie Romero, 1964)

For Veteran's Day, my short piece on a film about the Pacific War:

Hell on earth

Gerardo De Leon and Eddie Romero's Intramuros (The Walls of Hell, 1964), a fairly big-budgeted (for a Filipino production; as far as Hollywood goes it's in the B movie range) war epic set inside the actual Intramuros, outlines the story of how Japanese soldiers made a suicidal last stand within the walled city during the final days of the Second World War. Perhaps not that suicidal--Intramuros was designed and built to act like a massive city-sized fortress, with walls of solid rock twenty feet thick; as one American officer so vividly describes it, they hurled a hundred thousand shells against those walls, and still haven't breached them.

Night and Fog (1955) - in tribute to Alain Resnais (1922 - 2014)

In tribute to Alain Resnais, 1922 -2014

I remember handing a work of literature about the Holocaust (Art Spiegelman's Maus) to my class, and after they had finished the book and passed the exams, having them watch Resnais' Nuit et brouillard (Night and Fog, 1955). By then my students were wary (they knew me too well) and full of questions: will it be long? Will it be in black and white? Will it be boring? I replied: "No; kind of; see for yourself."

Nightcrawler (Dan Gilroy, 2014), Nazi Agent (Jules Dassin, 1942)

Things that go 'bump!' in the night

Nightcrawler is Dan Gilroy's apparent attempt to 1) do a dark satire on the media's vampiric thirst for lurid videos and 2) do the Nighttown sequence of James Joyce's Ulysses only set in Los Angeles (aside from similar imagery and the idea of a man roving a major city, Jake Gyllenhaal's character is named Louis Bloom). Just for the effort I give the director props; though local TV's propensity for tabloid journalism is hardly news, Gilroy does achieve moments of crawly discomfort that are of value--a reminder of what we're being spoonfed twenty-four hours a day.