directed by Jerrold Tarog
written by Henry Francia, E.A. Rocha, and Jerrold Tayog
As Jerrold Tarog begins this film, he gets something very important out of the way: he declares, in no uncertain terms, that his film is a work of fiction for which he has borrowed liberally from actual history, and that certain events may have been tweaked to serve the greater narrative. With one stroke he addresses the history nerds in the audience, telling them quite categorically: "Just shut up and enjoy the movie." This is important because rather than a by-the-numbers retelling of history, this film plays out very much like a parable, one that every Filipino needs to see and hear.
After Three Hundred Thirty-Three years, Spanish rule in the Philippines is coming to an end, and to escape the humiliation of having been overthrown by its erstwhile subjects, the Spanish government is having a closed-door meeting with the new burgeoning imperial power, the United States of America. As they meet inside the walled city, Intramuros, the revolutionary government, led by President Emilio Aguinaldo (Mon Confiado) have a meeting of their own and try to decide what to do next. Antonio Luna (played masterfully by John Arcilla), the highest ranking general of the army of the revolutionary republic of the Philippines, believes that they are only swapping one colonial ruler for another, and advocates an attack on the Americans while they are still marshaling their forces, but cabinet members Pedro Paterno (Leo Martinez) and Felipe Buencamino (Nonie Buencamino) believe that the Americans have good intentions and are looking forward to doing business with them. In the end, the politicians prevail and no attack is carried out. However, when the American soldiers shoot a passel of Filipino soldiers a few months into their occupation, a full-blown war breaks out, leaving General Luna no choice but to face the military might of the strongest nation in the world. Luna, however, is no slouch; he knows that to beat the Americans, who are superior in both numbers and technology, he will need tactics, and thanks to his fierce intelligence and extensive education in Europe he knows exactly what he needs to do, which does not involve beating Americans on the traditional battlefield but basically wearing them down by getting them to throw more and more money at their war effort until they realize that colonizing the Philippines is too expensive an endeavor. As he strives to professionalize the Filipino army, Luna soon realizes his biggest problem, though, isn't the Americans but his very own countrymen, including officers from his own army like the arrogant General Tomas Mascardo (Lorenz Martinez) and the useless, lazy Captain Pedro Janolino (Ketchup Eusebio), neither of whom will answer to or even cooperate with him but will only take orders from the President himself. As Luna finds himself fighting a war on two fronts, one against colonialism and the other against parochialism and self-interest, he realizes there are precious few people he can trust, such as his loyal officers Francisco Roman (Joem Bascon) and Eduardo Rusca (Archie Alemania). Time is not on his side, and neither, it seems, is the very republic he is fighting to save.
The film, based primarily on a 1972 book by Vivencio Jose is a masterclass of direction, acting, cinematography, editing, music scoring, art direction and costume design, among others. Quite remarkably, in making this film director Tarrog wore several other hats as well. He wrote the film's script and music score and also served as film editor. His shot selection is utterly brilliant. On a technical level, this film is virtually beyond reproach, but for the occasional continuity gaffe and some seams in the special effects, and perhaps more conspicuously, some rather mediocre acting from the actors Tarrog and his crew got to play the Americans, whose onscreen presence is mercifully short, though somewhat pivotal. The good news, though, is that the Filipino actors are, for the most part, at the top of their game.
Arcilla, a veteran of both screen and stage, owns this film. The truth of it is that, in the hands of a lesser actor, with stinging lines like "you're like virgins believing in the love of a prostitute" or the much more important "our very worst enemy is ourselves," the character could have descended into caricature, a live-action version of the splash-panel editorial cartoons that regular newspaper readers are used to seeing. Arcilla, however, takes this role, with its tricky lines and incredibly difficult duality, and gives us a character who is both fierce and tender, both brilliant and, in the end, somehow naive of the evils of which his compatriots are capable, a flaw that ultimately proves to be his undoing. It's really such an outstanding performance, the kind, I believe, that will define Arcilla as an actor, and in the best possible way.
It is to the credit of most of the supporting cast that Tarrog and his producers have assembled that they do not simply blend into the background. Ramon Confiado imbues his Aguinaldo, quite clearly one of the central villains of the piece, with just enough humanity and hesitancy to keep him from being completely beyond redemption. There's even a pretty vivid flashback to the butchering of Andres Bonifacio in which Confiado gets to manifest pangs of the first Filipino president's conscience. Confiado's performance is creditable for bringing out the conflict in this character. In contrast, Epy Quizon's take on Apolinario Mabini was a little too saintly for my liking, thanks largely as well to the script, but he essayed the role well. I will admit I had some problems with Leo Martinez's Pedro Paterno, the greasy politician that felt a bit like a retread of his old "Manhik Manaog" character from the Mongolian Barbecue movie that I'm sure nobody remembers anymore (but which was actually pretty good), but considering his relatively small role I can get why Tarrog and his co-writers Francia and Rocha did not flesh him out too much.
Nonie Buencamino was a bit more surprising as the identically-surnamed Felipe Buencamino; this character is basically Luna's arch-nemesis throughout the film, and yet at the end of it all, he comes across as surprisingly human, even though he's still someone the audience will truly love to hate. What is remarkable about Buencamino's performance is that he, unlike Martinez' Paterno, does not come across as a con-artist or snake-oil salesman, but as someone with genuine, however misplaced, conviction. Projecting that on the screen was to my mind, almost as challenging as portraying Luna himself.
I could go on forever about how I admired this movie as a work of art, but ultimately what matters more is this film's message, which is basically about unity and selflessness in the name of one's country. The film is hardly subtle about its advocacy; its core messages are explicitly stated in the dialogue. In a day and age where people are bickering about how everything is the government's fault and how this politician is better than that one, Tarrog and his crew have shown some serious balls by daring just about everyone who watches this film, when complaining about the ills of society, to basically just take a good, long look in the mirror. Also, there are very few message movies that go balls-out on production value the way this film did, only to end on a complete downer.
Heneral Luna is hardly the first "message movie" to come along, and I sincerely hope it's not the last. I really hope this movie gets a revolution going, and not the kind with guns and murder, but the kind that involves EVERYONE--from the people government to the motorists on Commonwealth avenue to the urban poor--changing the way they think, and learning to truly love their country.
10/10
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