Editor’s note: This is the conclusion of Mr. Valiente’s two-part meditation on regional cinema.
THE fact is there is no national cinema. What we have has always been Tagalog cinema. Where does the regional cinema insert itself in this doubt and debate? The best way to regard regional cinema is to see it as a gift to a republic that has been sleeping with the lie of a contiguous territory of one nation, one thought.
Regional cinemas deal with the themes that are not in the arrogantly calendared concerns of the putative national aggrupation. Regional cinemas cry out the multivocalic sounds of the interiors, those places that are considered already part of the tenuous label “The Philippines”. That label, upon closer inspection, has constricted the many isles of identities and dreams that are present in our land/lands. The people and places of the regions don’t need the embrace of an inchoate nation. What the regions need are eyes and hearts eager and curious to find out the many roots that allow the great baobab to reach for the heavens and tug at the sleeves of the gods of ideologies to wake up and listen, for there are other minds and hearts that keep this republic alive.
When the French Nouvelle Vague or New Wave formed the most succulent diet of the most intelligent, most curious and most pretentious of film critics, the speaker of the French language had the dominance. When names like Truffaut and Chabrol blazed over marquees, we scampered to the nearest French language teachers. Now, what is keeping us from studying Cebuano when we encounter an odd work like Miss Bulalacao? When Roderick Cabrido’s Tuos was released, I regretted not having pursued my study of Kinaray-a language.
We need regional filmmakers, and we need regional film critics.
The filmmakers, especially those who live in the location of their films, shall tell us the story from within. Their tales will not necessarily be purely authentic. Remember, identities and social realities are negotiated, contested and appropriated. And yet, these filmmakers will be the sources of things that will not partake of the boringly given. They will
have struggles that we may not be able to understand first but should ultimately interest us. The extracinematic will have its interesting day, and we will be avid learners.
The film critics of regional cinema will necessarily have a working knowledge of the language or languages of the films being reviewed. Subtitles can help but the one who knows many languages will reign supreme. Snobbery has always been the mark of film critics. This is the new battlefield, and the periphery is out to seek revenge upon the cruel central. The English critics suddenly become the generalists and the marginalized the specialists.
The pure products have gone crazy, following James Clifford. And while we are dropping names like s&@t, we might as well go back to the question of Spivak, if the subaltern can speak. In the rise of regional cinemas, we recognize no subalterns. We have the subversives and they will not seek any permission to speak. Then, maybe, just maybe, we can start building a nation from the regions.