Filipiñana Review: A Stunning, Accurate Portrayal of Issues in Paradise

      When Janine (Nour Hooshmand) asks Isabel (Jorrybell Agoto) about the Ilocos region of the Philippines—having only heard of its beauty without ever visiting—Isabel describes many places that resemble the upscale golf course where they work. What should merely serve as a comparison to understand the unfamiliar is soon shown to be a deliberate contrast.

      What is this location if not a crafted retreat for the exceedingly wealthy? An oasis amid the rush of Manila life, bringing the scenic beauty of the countryside to them, thereby allowing them to avoid encountering the impoverished individuals laboring for meager wages in reality—people who have no power when they are told the land is no longer theirs. It offers all the splendor without any of the reality. A dreamlike realm without repercussions. At least for the affluent.

      Writer-director Rafael Manuel swiftly demonstrates that this is not the case for the young women tasked with sustaining this picturesque paradise. Expanded from his short film of the same title, Filipiñana navigates the lives of two characters who are unfamiliar with this country club. One (Isabel) serves as a tee girl responsible for discreetly placing golf balls on tees for patrons at the driving range, so they never have to bend down. The other (Carmen Castellanos’ Clara) is a guest of a member.

      Isabel and her coworkers exemplify the exception to the rule. They must adhere to a strict set of regulations that inherently relegates them to a subservient position, stripped of their agency. Yet, unlike the other girls (who also include the caddies), she perceives this place as a representation of Ilocos. She rejects the notion of being excluded from the course because she knows those trees. She longs for the mangoes growing on them, a reminder of home.

      Conversely, Clara strives to abide by standards her uncle (Carlos Siguion-Reyna’s Renato) desperately argues no longer hold true. This is not America. She is not a civilian coexisting with peers who share the same aspirations and are therefore compelled to monitor their actions and words. If she remains here to help advance his company, she can literally take a mulligan whenever she wishes, on or off the course. Yet, feeling above the law troubles her.

      The distinction between these characters is expertly crafted to illustrate two facets of entitlement: Isabel’s inherent entitlement to a homeland woven into her heritage and Renato’s attempts to persuade Clara to view her social status as a benefit. The former looks for ways to benefit from amenities that should be restricted; the latter strives to retain her humility and humanity in the face of rampant corruption.

      It is through their parallel journeys (they frequently encounter the same individuals but only catch brief glimpses of one another) that we gain insight into both perspectives; this particular location is unmistakably familiar due to its deep-rooted ties to the capitalist, colonial systems that facilitated its existence. The exploitation. The members' impunity. The anxiety of the girls bound to their whims. The detrimental conditions placed on a life.

      Manuel intersperses reflections throughout, whether political, as seen with Isabel and the club’s president (Teroy Guzman’s Dr. Palanca) both originating from Ilocos, or personal, with Mrs. Palanca (Agot Isidro) enduring infidelity while presumably partaking in it herself. The situation becomes grimmer when focusing on a missing girl and the nanny searching for her. This young child is deemed precious in relation to her caretaker’s penalties but is regarded as worthless when she obstructs an elite individual.

      The underlying message is straightforward: everything holds contextual significance. Ilocos is invaluable to those who inhabit and labor there, yet it becomes a tradable commodity for those who don’t. Its trees are a symbol of heritage for some and a sign of prestige for others when their scent transforms into Chanel No. 5. A child means everything to their parents and those dependent on their well-being, yet to others (wealthy or impoverished) who view it as a threat, object, or hindrance, it holds no value.

      That this social commentary is presented in a stunning visual style by cinematographer Xenia Patricia seems almost unjust. Filmed in Academy Ratio with a careful mise-en-scène, Filipiñana highlights the verticality of the trees and vast landscapes by pulling back to show them dwarfing those in the frame while using close-ups through barriers to enhance the boundaries at play. Every second, word, and shot is purposeful—including the end credits.

      Filipiñana premieres on August 28 at Film Forum in New York and on September 4 at Laemmle Glendale in Los Angeles, along with select theaters nationwide.