(Source: Youtube)

Thinking about the premise of Andew Niccol’s 1997 sci-fi film Gattaca is even more chilling today. The film imagines a “utopian” society where advanced biogenetics has enabled humans to select their best genes and traits in order to produce genetically superior offspring. Set in the not-too-distant future, Gattaca assumes that Biogenetics’ breakneck speed will hurl humanity into a world where even the color of your hair can be determined before birth.  

Recent developments in Biogenetics suggest that the reality portrayed in Gattaca is not too far-fetched. Just last month a team of Filipinos led by Dr. Jay Lazaro of the University of the Philippines Diliman unveiled a breakthrough in cancer treatment where natural antibodies will be used to carry anti-cancer drugs which in turn will target only cancer cells, thus, ensuring less pain for the patient. These kinds of advances in technology are sure to make leaps and bounds in the future. The question Gattaca raises is this: should we use our knowledge to govern over our reproduction? In the film, the consequences of answering in the affirmative are tremendous. 

Vincent, played by Ethan Hawke, is the protagonist and narrator of the film. Through his character the film showcases the adverse effects of genetic liberties. He is classified as an ‘invalid’, one of those born out of love and chance, not by genetic tampering. His parents came to regret this as they learn upon his birth that he is bound to live only up to 30.2 years due to a heart disorder. Due to his flawed genetic profile his opportunities became slim. Vincent’s destiny was essentially chosen at birth. 

The tenacity of the human spirit is highlighted in the film. Vincent refused to follow the social order and dreamt of becoming a space navigator. To achieve this, he had to become a “borrowed ladder” or assume the identity of someone genetically blessed. Enter James Morrow, played by Jude Law. Morrow is described in the film as having a genetic profile “second to none.” But it was this very perfection that led to his character’s demise. Morrow, a former swimming champion, could not tolerate coming in second place in a contest and tried to kill himself, he was left paralyzed from the waist-down instead.

­Using Morrow’s blood, urine and hair samples, Vincent was able to penetrate Gattaca and rise through the ranks quickly. The question of whether Vincent would be found out provided constant tension in the film, supported by a haunting musical score. The tension escalates throughout the film as a murder strengthens Gattaca security and a fellow navigator (Irene, played by Uma Thurman) develops a liking to Vincent and stalks him to find out their compatibility. 

Some of the best scenes in the film were the interactions between Hawk and Law’s characters. The juxtaposition between frail Vincent and the shrewd, superior Morrow is brilliantly toppled as the film progresses. Law lent an intensity and vulnerability to Morrow’s character that sometimes overshadowed Hawk. Thurman, on the other hand, was a commendable embodiment of the cold, impassive Irene, which can be seen as another parallel to the sterile, robotic reality in Gattaca.

The setting of the film, though set in the future, is reminiscent of a 50’s-60’s environment, with new-age buildings and retro-looking cars. The characters in the film wore uniforms according to their ranks. The color scheme in the entire film is composed of neutral colors, again a parallelism to the sterile reality depicted.

The flashback sequence in the early parts of the film is too long and detailed. It robbed the viewer of the chance to be able to put the pieces of the puzzle together by himself. The revelations at the end of the film tie it up nicely, though they seem to be sketched in. 

A mixture of carefully timed silences, dry-humor and body language moved the story along with the narration. However the film did not achieve the subtlety I think it sought out to attain. The film’s message is easily grasped. Humans should not try to intervene with fate. Morrow, though genetically superior, comes out as a depressed and pathetic character in the end, trapped in his own perfection and unable to accept failure. Vincent, on the other hand, refused to let his genes govern his life. He always looked up to space, looking for a way to escape the ‘valid world’ for his invalid self. 

The consequences Gattaca outlined of playing with destiny are frightening. The power to produce genetically superior offspring may very well lead to social stratification. Those who have the means to tamper with their genes become the new upper-class. They will produce offspring with better chances and opportunities in the world. Too much power can easily lead to abuse. The “utopian” society in Gattaca is oppressive and robotic. In the world of Gattaca emotions bear little weight. To think that there is even the slightest possibility of that becoming reality is infinitely more disturbing than the thought of alien invasions. 

In spite of its structural flaws, Gattaca’s intelligent script achieved the feat of lacing deep and driven characters with the sci-fi staple of outlining the consequences that technology may bring about. In Gattaca the fear of what you see in the horizon is infinitely greater than fear of the unknown.

The movie features an ensemble cast which includes Noni Buencamino, who plays the OFW Bebot, Epy Quizon as a call-center agent named Pipoy, Raul Morit as a Christ-impersonator, Dwight Gaston as Boy George, a camera repair man, Hector Macaso as Hector, a former stuntman, Soliman Cruz as Abdul, a Muslim vendor of pirated DVDs and Ronnie Lazaro as himself. 

Director Sigfried Barros Sanchez undoubtedly made a concerted effort in fleshing out the individual characters and integrating them all in the general narrative. However, this made the film a little too long and dragging at some parts. 

The film displays a lot of the elements of traditional Filipino cinema – long cuts, emphasis on facial expressions, narratives within the narrative, interspersed with ‘indie elements,’ both intentionally and embedded into the form itself. The shaky camerawork, shoddy lighting and abrupt cuts also emphasized the ‘amateur’ nature of the filmmakers.  

This overt representation of cinematic elements seems to poke fun at mainstream cinema and its counterculture – independent cinema. The most hilarious parts of the film would be the ones which satirize the nature of the film industry. In the middle of the film there was a long montage which showed the formula of a typical Filipino action movie. The protagonist, played by Ronnie Lazaro, comes from a dark past with the hopes of redeeming himself while the damsel in distress is forced to work in a bar due to poverty. The typical elements of scenes involving bar fights, sex, and final shootouts are all narrated and reenacted in a very serious manner. 

The film also portrayed the emerging ‘elitist’ nature of independent cinema. Inside the narrative, another group of seasoned filmmakers showed how much independent cinema has been overrun by standards and is inspired by foreign filmmakers. Snippets of interviews of various filmmakers all vying for Ronnie Lazaro showed how a community has banded over independent cinema and how formulaic it has become. The frequent mentions of film techniques and obscure filmmakers in this part of the film emphasized the almost snobbish identity that independent cinema is seen to embody, emphasizing the growing chasm between mainstream and indie. 

The satirical approach of the film provided an insightful look back at the state of Filipino cinema and how it came to be the way that it is. Through it, we are able to see and understand the current state of Filipino cinema. Mainstream movies seem to bank on tried and tested methods ensured to capture the masses, while independent cinema caters to those ‘intellectuals,’ shying away from conventions whilst unwittingly creating conventions for its own genre as well. Both genres seem to be sufficiently inspired by foreign films and filmmakers. The question then emerges: Are we really creating films for the Filipino audience? 

In the overarching narrative, we can see how the director tried to take his advice to heart. His characters were predominantly stereotypes of the struggling poor and lower middle class Filipinos. OFWs, call center agents, Muslim vendors, religious fanatics and blue collar workers. The wide array of characters ensures that the viewers would be able to find someone and something to relate to. The dilemmas the characters faced hit the Filipino experience of continuous struggle, and yet finding reasons to smile amidst all the hardships. The only problem here is that it classifies the problems of the Filipinos as belonging solely to the general masses.  

Nonetheless, the message at the end of the film was very inspiring. Create Filipino films about Filipino lives and experiences for the Filipino audience. With this in mind, the reliance on styles and types of filmmaking becomes secondary in nature. What is important is that we create films with a Filipino identity. More importantly, we should produce films that truly reflect the Filipino nature and with the best interest of the Filipino people in mind. Only then can we achieve a Filipino cinema which we can deem as Sineng mapagpalaya. 

            The film was released during the height of the Japanese occupation. The invaders took over the film houses and used them for their own propaganda purposes. As their imported films failed to capture Filipino audiences, they began to recruit Filipino directors to collaborate on films, Gerardo de Leon being one of them. Dawn of Freedom starred Filipino and Japanese actors Fernando Poe Sr., Leopoldo Salcedo, Rosa Aguirre, Okochi Denjiro, Kawatsu Seizaburo and Nakamura Tetsu (Soriano, 2010) and showcased the prevalent theme of Japanese heroism. Several American prisoners of war (POW) were tapped to play the antagonists in the film. 

 

            The film started off by showing Filipino soldiers departing from their families to battle with the Americans. In one scene, Tomy, a little boy, asks his brother to bring back a helmet from the enemy, the Japanese. 

            As the movie continues, lines are being drawn between the “evil, selfish” Americans and the Japanese “saviors.” In one scene, Tomy, so captivated by the American parade, failed to notice a speeding vehicle. He was struck and became limp. In that scene Tomy can be seen as a personification of the Philippines. The movie argues that Filipinos were so enamored by the Americans that unwittingly, we have sacrificed our well-being in the process. This blind acceptance of the Americans is further given emphasis in an interrogation scene where the Japanese question a Filipino soldier. The Filipino soldier pledges allegiance to the United States of America, but is shaken as the Japanese general asks, “Aren’t you a Filipino?” 

            In stark contrast to this, as Japanese troops march along the streets, the children seen cheering for the American parade are seen hiding under fences and bushes. The Japanese soldiers gradually show the children that they are friendly and courteous. The children eventually take a liking to the Japanese in the movie, claiming that they were misunderstood. It is easy to see how Yutaka aimed for the children’s acceptance of the Japanese to extend over the film’s audience. 

            Americans, on the other hand, are shown as ruthless slave-drivers as the film continues. In one scene American generals order and ridicule Filipino soldiers unmercifully. In another scene where the Americans are seen to be strategizing, it was revealed that they cared very little if a hundred of their Filipino soldiers perished if it meant that they could get the upper hand. 

            The movie’s disjointed scenes actually worked well to achieve the juxtaposition between the “friendly and misunderstood” Japanese and the “scheming” Americans. After a scene where a Filipino soldier is seen to be living comfortably in the Japanese camp, enjoying amenities and friendly banter with friends, the shot then fades into a scene where Filipinos are shown in the American camp as underfed, desolate, overworked and ridiculed. As the scene continues, an American soldier murders a Filipino soldier in cold blood.   

            The Japanese continued to be portrayed as brave, heroic figures but also severely misunderstood. This is achieved through the unlikely friendship of a Japanese soldier and Tomy. As the Japanese soldier slowly gains the trust of scared, unbelieving Filipino children, he is directed to Tomy who, now limp, looks longingly as his friends play outside. The Japanese soldier slowly rebuilds not only Tomy’s character, but his ability to walk again, even donating his own blood in the process. When the Japanese soldier leaves for war, Tomy is devastated. But upon seeing his friend march down the streets, Tomy is able to stand up again and literally follow in the footsteps of the Japanese soldier. 

            If you contextualize the film, it would seem that the film had a very big budget. The soldiers were well decked with guns and tanks and impressive explosives were used in the fight scenes. But as the film was released during the height of the war, it would be easy to see how the Japanese invaders used authentic, captured materials as movie props. 

            The film was very reminiscent of the style which immediately preceded it. The scenes were typically long and very drawn-out. The acting was exaggerated, carry-overs from theater and traditional arts such as sarzuela and senakulo. The film also requires a lot of suspension of belief. One scene in particular, shows a wounded soldier speaking his thoughts about the foolishness of war out loud before his final breaths. Though monologues are tools to move the story forward and are frequently used in theater, this scene felt particularly forced. 

            The soundtrack of the film was laudable. Classic, instrumental music built up tension, lightness and drama when needed. However, silence, which the film used liberally, was the most moving aspect. Through it the filmmakers were able to create suspense and intensify the drama of a scene. 

The camerawork was simply but sometimes shaky however this could be seen as a testament to the tumultuous times. The camera angles gave an inordinate emphasis on facial expressions. They were also used to emphasize status and character, as in the low angles used in the Japanese generals and the high-angle shots used in the Filipino soldiers in the American camp. 

The quality of the film, however, was very poor. A great percentage of the film was dark; it gave the eyes an exercise in trying to discern what the scene was about. Though I am sure that age was a factor in the film’s current state, it just calls attention to our need to have a systematic preservation and catalogue of our films.

The film featured three languages, Filipino, English and Japanese, so I surmise that it was equally confusing for the Filipino audience at the time. The subtitles and transitions were all in Japanese, such that some parts were incomprehensible and needed a great deal of deduction to piece into the story. It would have been less difficult for the Japanese audience to understand, though. 

Cinematography also played a role in characterization. The church emerged as a theme in the scenes, underlining the “respect” that the Japanese held for the Filipino faith. In scenes where the Japanese troops are seen to mingle with Filipinos, the church is seen in the background, seemingly sound and giving blessing over the interaction. Whereas in scenes of American troops in the city, smoke can be scene billowing behind the church steeple, signaling devastation.  

As the film nears it end, the American soldiers are portrayed as cowards. The Japanese troops then look on sorrowfully at the marching Filipino and American soldiers. As the film’s conclusion the Japanese general addresses his troops in a vigorous manner. As the speech was in Japanese, the entire scene could not be understood. 

Overall, the film was held together by its theme as a propaganda piece. However, because of the poor quality of the film today and the recurrent shift in languages, viewers must be warned that a lot of research and assumptions are required for the film’s narrative to make sense. 

            It is up to the viewer how much of the film he/she can accept. Put in the proper historical context, it is easier for the viewer to negotiate what he/she knows with what the film actually portrays. A quick review of Philippine history would help before viewing the film.

            MNL 143 is a social realist film mostly set inside a transport taxi cab. The protagonist, Ramil (Allan Paule), is a former OFW who returned to the Philippines to search for a lost love (Joy Viado). After years of futile efforts and disappointment, Ramil decided to return abroad. The film chronicles his last day of searching for his lost love and the passengers he meets along the way. 

             It is ironic how the film is able to go beyond the cramped space of Ramil’s mini-van and is able to explore entire lives intersecting along the busy streets of Manila. As passengers come and go, we see snippets of their lives and personalities revealed unintentionally. A mother is broken hearted as her son reveals in a text that he did not remember her birthday. A woman chases after a snatcher after realizing her cellphone was missing. A student drowns the world away with her earphones. Aspiring filmmakers try to impose meaning through symbolism in an amateur film they taped inside the mini-van. 

            We only see tidbits of the passenger’s lives. Our imaginations, however, were left with a wide horizon of questions. How did the mother celebrate her birthday, then? Will the woman discover that she was after the wrong man? Where is the student headed? Would the filmmakers be able to make a decent film?

In all the characters he met every day, it was very serendipitous that his lost love would choose to hail his taxi on the last day of the search. 

 The love story, however, took up a very small part of the main narrative. The narrative was mainly concerned about revealing how many people went through the grueling process of sacrificing comfort, safety, and sometimes integrity in their public commute. The film did a wonderful job of defamiliarizing something that we saw and did every day. Suddenly, commuting and the politics of it became fascinating. As a participant, and bathed in the mundaneness of it all, we do not realize that we meet interesting people every day. We can then ask questions we never thought we could ask, “Where is she going?” “What are they fighting about?” “Why does he look so tired?” All of a sudden, we realize that we are just a very small part of this sprawling city where different lives play out. 

The taxi cab in this sense serves as a diluting mechanism. Different people who otherwise would have no other reason to associate are brought together, even if just for a moment, to share in a single journey. When we choose to pay attention, we can learn a lot from the things that we do every day. 

The cinematography was very adept at showing and letting the audience experience Manila. A lot of the shots were always cramped, indicating the lack of space, literally and figuratively, that plagues the city. This is further exacerbated by passengers clamoring to get seated in the overloaded taxi cab. In the outdoor scenes, the color tone was very warm – ranging from yellow, red to orange hues. You could almost feel the sweltering heat that is characteristic of the capital city.   

 

             Ramil’s story ended much in the same way as the passengers he encountered – very open ended. We can never know if Ramil and his love would get back together, especially after it was revealed that she was terribly bitter over the entire affair. But even if she does decide to get off Ramil’s taxi for good, it is oddly comforting to note that despite the terrible odds, Ramil had the chance to take his lost love as a passenger once again.