ANG PAGKALMA SA UNOS
Joanna Vasquez Arong
Ang Pagkalma sa Unos is a contemplation on the effects a typhoon leaves on a seaside city. Myths are woven in to try to understand how people cope with the devastation and trauma. A girl’s voice divulges bits and pieces of her own memory of her grandmother and mother to tie in the experiences she felt visiting this ravaged port city.
Bong works in an urban fishing village on the outskirts of Manila. Desperate for cash, he dumps bodies into the ocean for the drug war’s faceless vigilantes. The story follows Bong after he disposes off the “trash.” He wrestles with guilt and tension rises when the killings hit close to home after he discovers his neighbor has been murdered.
Years after mining operations began, a once rugged and undisturbed town changes drastically. Koi, 22, returns home for the first time since leaving for college, and does so with an infected ear. He accompanies his mother Tonet in waiting for his father, both of them clueless as to whether he could make it home alive after an accident in the extraction tunnel. As Koi reconnects with his hometown in slow decay, he fears the impending possibility of losing both his father and his hearing. Part fiction, part experiment, and purposefully blurring the lines in between, Here, Here serves as a loose visual study on landscapes and terrains, both natural and beyond.
A young woman goes back to her province in the countryside where she gets to once again meet her Grandmother Loleng - a distant relative and a senile parol (Christmas lantern) artisan. Together, they will explore Grandma Loleng’s landscape of memories, only to unearth her innermost secrets and wartime experiences. It is about memory and forgetting, both in the context of the personal and of the national consciousness.
THE MORTICIAN OF MANILA
Orly Fernandez manages and lives at a 24-hr funeral parlor in Manila. His relationships with clients and the journalists he meets color the empathy and contempt he holds for Philippine drug war victims who, like him, struggle to survive.
Carla Pulido Ocampo
As Limmayug carries firewood back to his home village, something falls from the sky: a 1950s television, with a hysterical showbiz star trapped inside it. She is Laura Blancaflor. The frightened man saves the television -- nay, saves Laura -- from the flames of the impact. Worlds apart in their language and methods, the two try their best to engage each other. But for Limmayug, a citizen of an off-the-grid mountain town, Laura’s TV talk seems too contrived and, alas, during commercial breaks, uncontrollably tactless as well.
WHAT I WOULD HAVE TOLD MY DAUGHTER IF I KNEW WHAT TO SAY BACK THEN
What I Would Have Told My Daughter If I Knew What To Say Back Then features the filmmaker talking to over 13 years of home videos in an imagined conversation with her daughter’s younger years. The filmmaker’s failed coming out when her child was only 3 years old inspired the initial concept for this experimental documentary.