REVIEW: Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo

Nicanor G. Tiongson, The Philippines Daily Express, 1976

Minsa'y Isang Gamu-Gamo: Filipino with a Passion

Contemporary Filipino moviemakers who seek to paint authentic Filipino experience on screen have to steer a difficult course between today’s Scylla and Charybdis. On the other hand, they must fight the currents of commercial formula films that can suck and drown them into a whirlpool of song-and-dance, and blood-and-thunder and “tawa-iyak” inanities. On the other hand, they must not run aground on the “artistic” rocks of Europeanized sensibilities that can crush and powder them into self-indulgent insignificance.

Only a preciously few films have steered through this difficult course with some measure of success. Some, like “Lunes, Martes…” have come so perilously close to commercialism. Others, like “Nunal,” have all but been devoured by “Frechified” artistry and sensibility. A few, like “Bitayin si Baby Ama,” “Sakada,” “Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos” and “Tiket Mama, Tiket Ale” have come through with commendable colors.

Filipinos should, therefore, rejoice that this year has witnessed the rise of a number of producers, directors and scriptwriters who have bravely defied the pull of commercialism and produced films that honestly and seriously attempt to limn the Filipino and his myriad experiences on screen. “Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo preeminently belongs to this gallery of authentic Filipino portraits. First and foremost credit must go to playwright Marina Feleo-Gonzales for creating a story and screenplay that is so passionately real and unequivocally Filipino. Using material from contemporary Philippine experience, Gonzales’ story successfully strips the mask off the so-called “special relations” between the Philippines and America.

“Gamu-gamo” focuses on two lower middle class families in Pampanga --- the de la Cruzes and the Santoses. Cora de la Cruz (Nora Aunor) is a nurse whose one ambition in life is to live in America. Now that her papers are ready, she plans to get a green card after her one-year stay at an American hospital, then change her status to immigrant and finally petition for her family to live with her in America’s affluent society. Her mother (Gloria Sevilla) and young brother (Eddie Villamayor) begin to dream of apples and greenbucks, but the fly in their colonial mentality is Ingkong (Paquito Salcedo), who insists that immigrating to America is betrayal of one’s country.

Bonifacio Santos, Cora’s fiancé, has already filed an application with the U.S. Navy so he can join Cora in the States. His mother (Perla Bautista) and their helper (Lily Miraflor) save up for his expenses.

Because of their personal ambitions, both families, with the exception of Ingkong, choose to ignore the brutal murder of Filipino fishermen and scavengers by American soldiers who use the former as targets, and the gross injustice of the American right of “extraterritoriality,” which allows these servicemen to go scot-free out of the country. The families succeed in turning their heads the other way, until tragedy strikes their own homes.

Mrs. Santos who works at the base Commissary, is subjected to indignities by a Filipino female guard who strips off her “smuggled” panties and waves it like a flag to delight the American male guards. Mrs. Santos brings the matter to court, but the guard retaliates by raiding her PX goods store. Nothing comes of the case and Boni, disenchanted with America, turns his back on the U.S. Navy.

Cora is appalled at the failure of Philippine courts in Mrs. Santos’ case, but decides to go to the States anyway. Her big “despedida” party, however, is marred by tragedy. Her brother, inspite of all her warnings to the contrary, decides to join other scavengers in the base’s garbage dump and is shot dead by trigger-happy American soldier. Cora foregoes her plans of going abroad and brings the case to court, only to be told in the end that the case cannot be tried because the accused has already been assigned to another country. In the end, all dreams of America, like the brother’s “saranggola,” are dashed to the ground.

Aside from Gonzales’ compelling story, her screenplay is to be commended for excellent characterization and dialogue, and some artfully conceived sequences. With the possible exception of the travel agent (Leo Martinez), whose role could have been shortened, all of Gonzales’ characters manage to be both “typical” and “individual.” Cora and Boni are typical “provincianos” whose highest ambition is to live in America, yet one never feels that they are black or white cardboard characters standing for lifeless ideas. Mrs. de la Cruz is a mother hen who can only think of her own brood and can watch fellow Filipinos massacred and not lift a finger. Mrs. Santos is a woman who fights for her dignity but is traumatized and pulverized by her confrontation with the Americans. Most of all, Ingkong, who acts as the conscience and point of view of the film, comes off as a lovable and believable individual whose nationalism, derived from the Revolution of ’96 refuses to accept America’s travesty of Philippine independence.

Some of Gonzales’ scenes are built on situations that are portrayed and executed with a marvelous economy of dialogue. When Cora comes home with her passport, she sits at a table with her mother and engages her in an animated conversation that gets interrupted or drowned some times by both the TV set and Ingkong’s “speeches” about nationalism. An even greater achievement of the playwright is her ability to make scenes dramatic --- like that of Mrs. Santos telling her son about the incident at the base --- without making her characters throw tantrums or sprout kilometric, archaic words like “subalit,” “datapwat” and “bagamat.” Lupita A. Concio’s direction is both sensible and effective. In the courtroom scene, she establishes both the locale and the crowd in court with a long shot, while the title of the case is being read. A medium shot then establishes the panel of lawyers (with complainant at the back). The camera then focuses on the judge and then on the defendant’s lawyer who explains that his client is out of the country, and then goes back to the judge who decides that the trial has to be postponed. The final shot is of Cora standing up and pleading for her brother, and then weeping helplessly into Boni’s arms.

But spare as her scenes are, Lupita Concio’s direction never becomes monotonous or flat. Sometimes it is enriched with symbol, as when the camera closes up on the body of Eddie being laid out on the cart and then zooms out to show the cart moving against a landscape that includes a Philippine and American flag flying on equal poles at a distance. Wherever there is symbol, however, it is worked in naturally, as in the scene where Cora and her mother are reflected on the “aparador’s” two separate mirrors, while they present contrary points of view about bringing their case to court.

Sometimes not only symbol but blocking as well makes a scene both fresh and stimulating. After Mrs. Santos’ case is dismissed, Boni comes to see Cora. Boni helps the young boy with his kite, and Nora puts his “merienda” in a little hut near the garden. Right after Boni tells Cora that he is giving up his plans of going to America, the boy’s red-blue-and-white kite (which has been equated with American jets and the couple’s own dreams) dives onto the foreground. Boni picks it up for the boy and then stands holding the rope that fastens the “kubo’ to the ground. His emotion is effectively visualized as he grasps the rope, which partly covers his cheeks.

Acting in “Gamu-gamo” is superb. Once again, Nora Aunor proves herself to be one of the finest actresses today, with an acting style that is both ‘raw” and “fine,” characterized by a disarming sincerity and force, that can break into an unbelievable number of nuances, shades and colors of emotion. Outstanding is her court scene where her face registers a gamut of emotions --- from anger to confusion to depression and despair --- in the space of ten seconds. Like a mature actress, she does not attack dramatic scenes with histrionics or hysteria. Over her brother’s coffin, she curses the Americans who came to pay her family off by screaming “My brother is not a pig” over and over again with mounting intensity.

Jay Ilagan’s performance is likewise commendable. He is tender with Nora, angry for his mother, concerned for their help, playful with the young boy, respectful to Mrs. de la Cruz, and docile and attentive to Ingkong. Perla Bautista is tender with her son, conciliatory and then angry with the guard, and completely fragile and vulnerable after her trauma. Gloria Sevilla is an instinctive mother to her brood, and always conciliatory to her father even when she disagrees with him. Lily Miraflor is all heart for Boni and Mrs. Santos, but is so pitifully ignorant she falls for her husband’s ruse. Most of all, Paquito Salcedo combines the firmness of a true nationalist (without sounding silly or looking ridiculous) with the softness of a grandfather who is all kindness to his grandchildren. Unforgettable is Salcedo’s short scene, where he embraces and weeps over his grandson’s bloodied kite before committing this to the fire. Truly, no other movie in 1976 has succeeded in turning out such uniformly superb performances.

Music was effectively used for irony. Restie Umali took the melody of “America, America” to serve as background precisely for the scenes where America is unmasked as a foe. Likewise, the theme song of the movie is built on the melody of the same song but is fitted with words that end with “Walang mang-aalipin kung walang paaalipin.”

Good as the film was, however, it was not entirely free of flaws. Concio’s use of slow motion and freezing techniques for the scene where Cora comes down the stairs and climbs on the cart to take her brother’s body in her arms, is sophomoric, and gimmicky, and certainly detracts from the effectivity of that scene. Likewise, the insertion of Aunor’s songs is such a thinly-veiled excuse to cater to Aunor’s less important, but more popular talent.

Likewise, technical flaws diminished the effectiveness of certain scenes. When Ingkong and the young boy talk about their resolve not to go to America, the sounds of children playing and screaming drowned out most of the dialogue. Dubbing for some scenes was so bad the sound of words would be finished before the characters opened their mouths.

Flaws notwithstanding, the film stands as one of the best in 1976 Filipino Film Festival and in the year 1976 as well, not only because the story and screenplay, and most of all, the point of view of the movie are unequivocally and passionately Filipino. Premiere Productions should be commended for coming out with films like “Gamu-gamo” that have true social relevance and are authentic portraits of the contemporary Filipino