It’s been said that the ultrawealthy may not only get a glimpse of what it’s like to live in the world in the moment between leaving their home and getting into their chauffeured Escalade – or a private plane for the class that truly lives in the clouds – so it’s apropos that the amount of time spent outside of the country club in Manila where “Filipiñana” is set is limited to less than a minute of screen time and placed upfront, though director Rafael Manuel lets the moment ripple throughout his sly satire. You’re expected to be just as uncomfortable as the tourists that have crammed into the back of a shuttle are as a host offers a warm welcome to the Philippines, but for other reasons – to look outside is to notice the street crowded with people lined up waiting to get clean water from a truck during a sweltering summer and unlike the grassy knolls and blue skies that await, the oppressive sun turns the image yellow, standing out amongst the immaculately composed and calmly colored ones to follow as a messy aberration.
Manuel’s ability to leave an impression within the film extends to leaving one far beyond with a striking feature debut where individual frames can speak to centuries. During that opening scene where the kindly host offers a language lesson with direct address to the camera – ostensibly speaking to the Chinese businessmen that have arrived to play a few holes, but staring straight ahead to cut through to those on the other side of the screen – the film clearly has audiences from other countries in mind as it considers the ongoing toll of colonialism and building on a tortured past. It can seems as even among those born in the Philippines, there are foreigners when the staff at the country club is largely comprised of traditionally subjugated communities from around the country, and the film primarily follows Isabel, a teenager who may only be vaguely familiar with any resulting prejudice of hailing from the rural Ilocano region, but comes to feel it over the course of a long day as a newly hired employee.
Unspooling in long, languid takes seemingly as a nod to the heat, there is a constant crispness to the picture reflecting the power dynamics at play, both individually when Isabel can be seen setting up a tee between the legs of the golfers who half-heartedly try to make small talk and worries that their poor form will result in her getting hit (a coworker insists it’s not the worst that could happen) and at large as the employees walk around on eggshells trying to please Dr. Palanca, the president of the country club who has too much time on his hands. (An early scene in which he sings karaoke, only for the camera to pan out to a rapt audience of staff and guests waiting to dutifully applaud his mediocrity is perfectly executed to expose it for the sad and silly spectacle it is.) Scenes are occasionally juxtaposed of those enjoying the course and those working it to show the vast gap between them – while empty accommodations get air conditioning, the outdoor locker room for the staff gets a single radial fan, but as sharp and unforgiving as cutting back and forth can be, where Manuel really slides in the knife is in the casual conversations that take on darker implications as they unfold as Isabel becomes increasingly conscious of how dispensable she is simply based on her culture, though a fascination grows with Dr. Palanca when it’s said he has Ilocano roots as well.
“Filipiñana” may be too obscure in its references at times for some outside the Philippines to fully engage with what’s going on in terms of the regional intricacies, yet it remains compelling throughout in its bold aesthetics and incisively summoning a feeling of stagnation familiar to the world over when besides Isabel, who can hardly see a future for herself simply because of where she was born, it introduces Clara, the niece of a higher up at the country club who has benefitted from her upbringing and has recently returned from the U.S. It could seem like a no-brainer to accept an invitation to work at the club when she’d be living in luxury, yet her uncle’s impassioned pitch about how the country needs more young natives to stay to thrive grows more unpersuasive when both the class disparity she sees and the dependence on tourism make the thought of staying as precarious as seeking opportunity abroad. At first, the impeccable frames of “Filipiñana” are liable to take one aback, but ultimately it’s the clarity its characters gradually gain over time about the murky situation they find themselves in that’s likely to stun.
“Filipiñana” will screen again at the Sundance Film Festival on January 24th at 5:20 pm at the Megaplex Redstone, January 26th at 3 pm at the Broadway Centre Cinemas in Salt Lake City, January 29th at 7:30 pm at the Holiday Village Cinemas and January 30th at 1:50 pm at the Megaplex Redstone. It will also be available to stream from January 29th through February 2nd on the Sundance virtual platform.