Seventeen days to go. I vow to finish the first draft of the screenplay for ANDRES BONIFACIO.
In the aftermath of losing a daily television show over two years ago, I seriously started looking at what to write about for my first feature film. It had been a long dream coming, to write and direct a body of work for the big screen. After assisting film & TV directors, writing endless scripts and developing concepts and shows, and then spending another four years for a daily soap opera, I feel I have never been more ready for film than now.
It took longer than I expected to arrive at a subject matter I felt deeply for. My mind hovered over some family drama pieces, then I started putting together some form of adaptation from novels and pieces that inspired me. I even collaborated with a couple more writers to explore other possibilities. But none of what I wrote took shape, nothing of what I started writing could get finished. There was a huge block.
Writing ANDRES BONIFACIO was different. It flowed out of my heart. I was intrigued with the controversies, the double-edged betrayals, the parallelism of our Past with the Present. Some issues I have never explored before in my working life in television.
The film will cover the last thirteen days of his life, told in flashbacks unfolding one layer at a time. It will pay tribute to the forgotten heroes of an era gone by, as it attempts to inspire the next generation ANDRES BONIFACIO. It will challenge historians to write about what truly happened then, at the same time, make us understand why Pilipinos are unable to grow as a nation despite the abundance of talent and natural resources.
And like ANDRES BONIFACIO, I too am a victim of betrayal, I too clamor for a national leadership devoid of corruption and greed.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Life On A Cusp
Ocean waves crumble, crawl and cede
repeating its cycle in restless motion.
My pen strokes fumble, mumble, tremble
rotating its themes in timeless cycles.
A first film in the writing,
A picture book in the making,
Long cherished dreams are no closer than before
as the routine of a working life
and the daunting tasks of providing for others
take first precedence over feeding my own.
Why Andres Bonifacio, Take 2
Reminiscent of my shooting days in the 90's when I had first started, and long before my television experience, today's shoot at an urban poor community in Angono brought back to life an awakening I've had in my heart latent these many years.
My country hadn't changed much: the poverty uncontrollably rising amid the constant lack of opportunities for quality education, and hence, a decent livelihood.
Small miracles from the volunteer teachers and community workers may uplift individual spirits
& young minds, but these will never be sufficient to effect real change and spearhead a growth from a backward mentality. Only a national leadership can bring these ideals forth.
I hope to live strong enough and long enough to find the next gen Andres Bonifacio.
My country hadn't changed much: the poverty uncontrollably rising amid the constant lack of opportunities for quality education, and hence, a decent livelihood.
Small miracles from the volunteer teachers and community workers may uplift individual spirits
& young minds, but these will never be sufficient to effect real change and spearhead a growth from a backward mentality. Only a national leadership can bring these ideals forth.
I hope to live strong enough and long enough to find the next gen Andres Bonifacio.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Why Andres Bonifacio
The movie on my mind has been on incubation for quite a while now. Not that I lack the willpower to bring it to fruition, but its epic scope and the magnitude of the multi-faceted controversy it might bring about paces its creation.
Partly historical, partly social, the film hopes to be an inspiring legacy to my bewildered Philippines, forever caught in the evil contraptions of the big "C" Corruption and the deafening indifference of a people towards misdeeds of the powerful few.
The film will probably gain for me some degree of acceptance in an industry where popularity, rather than hard work and talent, thrives. But beyond that, the film will strive to invoke substantive insights on the last days of the life of a forgotten hero. How he had been betrayed, how he started a Revolution that led to my country's independence, how he was killed by rival factions hungry for power....and how all that seems to be a repetition of what's going on today.
The story has to be told. What he stood for, what he really died for... The film is about a true Pilipino, my national hero: Andres Bonifacio.
On the first day of another new month, I wrote this to a blogger whose site I stumbled upon today: Anything for Material: This Writer's Life...
You're saving my life, Julie :) Learning to write and accepting my imperfections have been the most daunting parts of my creative endeavors. At times, I feel inadequate, but reading through your blog pages stabilizes me now in affirming that writing is indeed a treacherous journey... that it takes more than Time to build... and that I'm not alone in the writer's struggle. Thank you for sharing from the heart, Julie.
Partly historical, partly social, the film hopes to be an inspiring legacy to my bewildered Philippines, forever caught in the evil contraptions of the big "C" Corruption and the deafening indifference of a people towards misdeeds of the powerful few.
The film will probably gain for me some degree of acceptance in an industry where popularity, rather than hard work and talent, thrives. But beyond that, the film will strive to invoke substantive insights on the last days of the life of a forgotten hero. How he had been betrayed, how he started a Revolution that led to my country's independence, how he was killed by rival factions hungry for power....and how all that seems to be a repetition of what's going on today.
The story has to be told. What he stood for, what he really died for... The film is about a true Pilipino, my national hero: Andres Bonifacio.
On the first day of another new month, I wrote this to a blogger whose site I stumbled upon today: Anything for Material: This Writer's Life...
You're saving my life, Julie :) Learning to write and accepting my imperfections have been the most daunting parts of my creative endeavors. At times, I feel inadequate, but reading through your blog pages stabilizes me now in affirming that writing is indeed a treacherous journey... that it takes more than Time to build... and that I'm not alone in the writer's struggle. Thank you for sharing from the heart, Julie.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Opening Segment for a Film on Andres Bonifacio
OPENING MONTAGE as OBB. Circa 1895.
Behind a stack of handwoven fans made of indigenous materials, a young Andres Bonifacio, aged 9, circa 1860’s, at his poor family’s home, diligently studying…. DISSOLVES to Andres Bonifacio in his early 30’s writing for the Kalayaan.
Spread across his table is Jose Rizal’s El Filibusterismo.
Rack focus to reveal: Emilio Jacinto writing for the Kalayaan (Freedom).
Secret gatherings in secluded walkways, 3 to 5 Pilipinos laborers (manggagawa), holding copies of the Kalayaan.
In wooded areas, 6 or more Pilipino farmers (magsasaka at mga taga-bukid).
Silhouette shadows of Andres Bonifacio & Emilio Jacinto discussing and laying out strategies over a map for the content and distribution of Kalayaan.
Troadio Bonifacio and Francisco Castillo with Camilo Iban from Kapis (now Capiz) winning the loteria and buying the printing press.
In dark rooms or basements, copies of the Kalayaan are divided in batches for delivery. Dated January 1, 1896. (2 issues only, 1,000 copies & 2,000 copies)
The Supremo and his brothers Ciriaco and Procopio purchasing revolvers, bolos and the other weapons like bamboo spears…
The wealthy Messrs. Francisco and Valeriano del Castillo handing over supplies, seal & articles.
Emilio Jacinto, Aguedo del Rosario, and Alejandro Cipriano, and Marciano Santiago from Polo, Bulakan, working in the printing office, rushing the printing of the Kalayaan and the Kartilla, the rules of the Society and the aims of the Katipunan.
Katipunero Macario Sakay and other leaders study the distribution plan.
Chasing An Ultimate Dream
Almost as soon as I had found my voice in video and TV directing over ten years ago,
my Dream to write and direct a full-length feature film had surfaced.
Everything I have been doing since then whether for television or the live stage,
seems to be just a preparation ... no matter that the Dream remains distant, elusive in fact...
Will I die with it? As I have lived for it?
Why is it that important to me?
A sense of achievement? Or perhaps over-achievement?
A perennial need to communicate a message? Or, impart a value?
A soulful desire to leave behind a legacy?
Or, simply just to be able to live in my dream?
I seem to have looked everywhere and done everything for its cause...
(save for licking the hotshot producers' asses!)
But the Dream while appearing far and away from happening soon,
looms larger and closer than ever before.
my Dream to write and direct a full-length feature film had surfaced.
Everything I have been doing since then whether for television or the live stage,
seems to be just a preparation ... no matter that the Dream remains distant, elusive in fact...
Will I die with it? As I have lived for it?
Why is it that important to me?
A sense of achievement? Or perhaps over-achievement?
A perennial need to communicate a message? Or, impart a value?
A soulful desire to leave behind a legacy?
Or, simply just to be able to live in my dream?
I seem to have looked everywhere and done everything for its cause...
(save for licking the hotshot producers' asses!)
But the Dream while appearing far and away from happening soon,
looms larger and closer than ever before.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Somewhere in the Palawan Isles
My carefree breathing felt heavier than the gentle breeze rustling amid the glistening leaves. Only the faint sound of a cricket probably calling out to its mate disturbed the silence of the moonlit evening, as the Palawan waters shimmered against the pitch black stillness of the horizon calm.
An occasional gush of the eastern winds whistled soothingly into the depth of the moment, no longer afraid as I was briefly of the solitude. The serene atmosphere smelled of burnt fern, reminiscent of the comforting cool of Baguio and temperate Tagaytay and yet, not quite the same as their feverish calling for company.
A single leaf would find itself cradled to the ground by every singular motion of a wind's whiff.
And over the distant shores, balls of light emit a subtle radiance that reminded me of life beyond this beautiful landscape of red earth.
The stars invisible as they are from this virgin island laden amid a gently sloping mountain range look down upon me, as I await the hour of my birth. I find respite in this personal space to be re-aligned with the cosmic energies, to be rejuvenated once more for a new stretch of life.
Another leaf, dried and lifeless had fallen with the suden gush of the gregarious wind. This time the eminent sound of its whistling lingering longer than the last time, and evoking an echo at its tail that wasn't there when I first noticed it.
I go back to an annual tradition of geting inside myself, taking stock of where I am and which way I am bringing myself to go next. Only now I have both more and less choices.
More perhaps because of the immense opportunities that go with lifelong experiences, and yet less because of the passage of time inevitably lost in the learning and coping with living a human life.
An occasional gush of the eastern winds whistled soothingly into the depth of the moment, no longer afraid as I was briefly of the solitude. The serene atmosphere smelled of burnt fern, reminiscent of the comforting cool of Baguio and temperate Tagaytay and yet, not quite the same as their feverish calling for company.
A single leaf would find itself cradled to the ground by every singular motion of a wind's whiff.
And over the distant shores, balls of light emit a subtle radiance that reminded me of life beyond this beautiful landscape of red earth.
The stars invisible as they are from this virgin island laden amid a gently sloping mountain range look down upon me, as I await the hour of my birth. I find respite in this personal space to be re-aligned with the cosmic energies, to be rejuvenated once more for a new stretch of life.
Another leaf, dried and lifeless had fallen with the suden gush of the gregarious wind. This time the eminent sound of its whistling lingering longer than the last time, and evoking an echo at its tail that wasn't there when I first noticed it.
I go back to an annual tradition of geting inside myself, taking stock of where I am and which way I am bringing myself to go next. Only now I have both more and less choices.
More perhaps because of the immense opportunities that go with lifelong experiences, and yet less because of the passage of time inevitably lost in the learning and coping with living a human life.
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