Short cuts: Best Mindanao short films 2024
The last time I wrote something like this, I lamented how the short film continues to be neglected as a form, or genre, if you want to call it that, in contemporary discussions about film. This observation was prompted by remarks from the audience during the 2016 Metro Manila Film Festival on the short film entries shown in tandem with the main full-length entries. They were called “trailers” — ay trailer pa man diay ni or unsa ni, trailer? — by the audience I was with. The short film “tandem” was revived during the last MMFF. This time, there were no remarks like those. Though I wouldn’t necessarily call this mainstreaming, but there is I think a better understanding and popularity now, at least within the younger generation of filmgoers and cinephiles, driven by social media posts and Letterboxd. Certain favorite short films — and filmmakers — are now mentioned alongside feature-length films and more known feature film directors.
But the “trailer” remark on short films cannot be entirely dismissed. I thought about it anew after watching Sean Baker made his speech (after winning Best Director for Anora at the Film Independent Spirit Awards), which doubles as a situationer on the state of independent filmmaking, mentioning how indie films have become “calling card films”, referring to how independent filmmakers go on to make studio tentpoles either as a sure career path, or to “get by” until they make their next passion projects. In the current state of film productions, including the Philippines, the short film is the calling card, a proof of concept in pitching labs and networking sessions.
Short filmmaking in the Philippines remains under the ambit of alternative cinema. I wrote an essay in an upcoming CCP publication about regional short films’ part in the continued growth of the Gawad CCP for Alternative Film and Video (Gawad Alternatibo) which reminded me of this realization. And yet, it constitutes the bulk of Philippine cinema production. Not just in terms of quantity but in glimpsing at the diversity of filmmaking practice in the Philippines which is always itching towards some kind of an industry standard or metric of aesthetic judgment. Short films remains to be an under-studied area in Philippine film research particularly in understanding the political economy of filmmaking here, an area of study that should lead us to innovative (alternative) ways of exhibition, distribution, and production.
Short films continue to indicate the robustness of Philippine regional cinema. From student/school-led to provincial town film festivals to alternative screening initiatives including online hosting, hundreds of short films compete and/or exhibited in these platforms. Tracking them is time-consuming work. The Society of Filipino Film Reviewers have been diligent in their selection process by scouring these festivals and poring through online screeners to come up with a shortlist which is included in their annual film review/awards. On one hand, Sinegang, a group of young cinephiles, provide ample platform in terms of social media coverage.
Unless you’re a programmer for a film festival, or just simply a short film stan, it is impossible to watch at least a hundred a year. And yet, equally important to giving them platforms, is the task of highlighting, curating some of the best. Of course my encounters with short films vary and evaluative judgment often collides with the gut feel of adventure and eclecticism. There’s always a propensity to downplay a best-of list to a personal ‘fave’ one — and I mostly succumb to the latter — but (what Dodo Dayao said in my head right now) who are we kidding anyway when most often than not they are one and the same.
It is defeatist and futile to make some grand statement summing up my selection. There remains to be some expectations for Mindanao films in general. And I don’t think it will go away very soon (I remember a filmmaker friend who during a pitch was told to make her character as an IP). But starting with what Teng Mangansakan observed as one of the curators of Cinema Rehiyon 2024, there is a welcome rise Mindanao shorts in the comedy genre. Two young filmmakers should be noted on this regard in terms of their prolific output — Franky Arrocena and Jermaine Tulbo — mounting their own independent film group/productions with a dedicated group of friends/collaborators supporting them. I want to also draw attention to the rise of filmmakers from the Zamboanga del Norte region — Carl Joseph Lara, Rey Anthony Villaverde, and Kyle Erica Saycon, to my knowledge, are from the Dapitan/Dipolog area, who while studying in Cebu, Iloilo and Dumaguete, shot their films in their hometowns. I’m also looking forward to the next film from Davaoeño filmmaker (who’s also studying law) Adrian Lo, who has made 2 short films (the first is really mid-length) that are historical/period dramas and focusing on least-discussed aspects of Davao history.
Apologies if you’ve reached this point expecting to hear something about why I chose these short films but this turned out to be more of a placeholder post/reminder (lol). Anyway, too belated in the context of list-making or year-in-review year-starter essays, I realized. Originally, I plan to make a video essay in Bisaya (with English subtitles, naks) but current situation still prevent me from doing so. I’m holding on to that thought. I wrote this in a sudden, inexplicable rush to just chronicle these thoughts (which usually happens while away from my home city) which would still hopefully lead to the original plan. I want to make short films more accessible to a Bisaya audience and one of the ways is to create short video essays on them, complementing online platforms who are exhibiting them.
In lieu of the video, I provide you with these visual teasers and synopses of the best Mindanao short films, in no particular order.
People start mysteriously disappearing as earthquakes in Mindanao rise. 13-year-old Munya investigates the strange phenomenon after her mother goes missing during a solar eclipse. Fantasy becomes reality and reality becomes fantasy as the mythical serpent dragon, “Bakunawa", devours a seemingly tranquil world.
(Binisaya Film Festival 2024; Ngilngig Asian Fantastic Film Festival 2024)
In a remote community, a girl named Joy faces a menacing land grabber, Rommel, who violently coerces her grandfather into selling their ancestral land, culminating in a dramatic and harrowing confrontation that threatens their future.
(Sine Kabataan 2024; Mindanao Film Festival 2024)
A silly bromance sparks out of the closeness of two laidback high school boys, Maki and Kaloy. When a night of reckless drinking with their friends leads them to share a bed together, they discover the true nature of their bromance and now must decide whether to embrace this or risk losing each other’s friendship.
(Sine Kabataan 2024; Mindanao Film Festival 2024)
Young wannabe-filmmakers push the boundaries of friendship, passion, and ambition while attempting to produce their zero-budget short film in hopes of gaining admission to college.
(Cinema Rehiyon 2024; Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival 2024; Mindanao Film Festival 2024)
From birth to guilt to death. Retracing a maternal relationship through archival footage, drawing the line between a mother and son through archival footage. It explores the disposition of the maternal relationship and its spots within urban and rural spaces.
(Ngilngig Asian Fantastic Film Festival 2024)
A local karinderya owner is struggling to earn a living. A suspicious person with a once-in-a-lifetime offer invites him to join Nibgis Business, a "venture capital". Will he venture into a new life with infinite possibilities or be devoured by his obligations?
(Ngilngig Asian Fantastic Film Festival 2024)
On a bright day fit for washing laundry by the riverside, two best friends banter about life's absurdities. Conflict arises when one of them receives a lustful message from the guy they both fantasize about.
(Mindanao Film Festival 2024)