Busong (Palawan Fate) is the summation of Auraeus Solito's artistic life,
so far. Its devotion to folklore and its insistence on it being told through
the usage of practical effects as opposed to sleeker and more popular digital
effects is owed to the dazzling stop animation that was the source of absolute
wonder in Ang Maikling Buhay ng Apoy, Act
2 Scene 2, Suring at ang Kuk-ok (The
Brief Lifespan of Fire, Act 2 Scene 2, Suring and the Kuk-ok, 1995). Its
reliance on romanticizing the struggle of the marginalized and the underrepresented
is owed to the famous love story of the young gay boy and a police officer in Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros (The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros, 2005)
and the struggles of various genius high school students in Pisay (Philippine Science, 2007). Its homoerotic gaze is owed to his
sincere re-telling of his own homosexual coming-of-age in Boy (2009).
The
film's most direct precedent however is Basal
Banar (Sacred Ritual of Truth,
2002), a documentary that compiled very real stories of land-grabbing and other
oppression in by the outsiders towards the native people of Palawan. Much like Basal Banar, Busong is a collection of stories that focus on the issues
concerning Palawan. While it is the sense of community, of a common struggle,
that connects the stories of Basal Banar together,
in Busong, fate is the thread that
ties the tales. Busong retells the
stories of Solito's childhood and the stories he documented while making Basal Banar as one narrative, made
endlessly elaborate and poignantly poetic.
Busong tells the story Punay
(Alessandra de Rossi) who is suffering from a mysterious illness that rendered
her helpless and perpetually wounded. Angkarang (Rodrigo Santikan), Punay's brother, carries her on an ornate hammock, searching the land for a cure to his
sister's suffering. Their search would lead them to meet several strangers ---
the widow (Bonivie Budao), of a logger, a fisherman (Dax Alejandro), and the
descendant (Clifford Banagale) of Palawan's healers.
Spells
are spoken to pacify wildlife. Butterflies fly from healed wounds. At the same
place and time these magical events happen, foreign capitalists bully the
island's impoverished natives. Traditions are slowly being forgotten, salvaged
primarily by sung stories recorded on tape and played in the radio. The film is
not grounded on logic. It is more than anachronistic. The film exists in some
abstract plane, where past, present, and future converge, tradition and
technology are not at odds with each other, and myth and reality intertwine.
From
the dreamy episodes set in the beaches and forests of the island to the
erstwhile but gorgeous underwater sequences, Busong is undoubtedly visually sumptuous. However, like postcards
sold in the gift shop of a luxurious tourist's resort, the images that
cinematographer Louie Quirino conjures are framed and lighted predictably to
enunciate the natural allure of the island. Shot and projected in high
definition video, Busong runs the
risk of being too beautiful, too defined, and too welcoming. A film that
grieves for a dying tradition and cautions of the masked repercussions of forced
modernization is deserving of a tinge of grit, a hint of ugliness, and a possible
serving of anger.
There is no denying that the film is a product of Solito's love for his cinematically-neglected homeland, which he visualizes to near-perfection. During those moments and sequences where the film becomes incomprehensible story-wise, it is that love which is communicated with absolute ease. Each frame bursts with that unabashed adulation for his cultural heritage. Busong is essentially Solito's ode to himself, his past and the many pasts of his people that contributed to who he is as an artist.
(Cross-published in Lessons from the School of Inattention.)