Cinemalaya 2024’s closing film ‘Bona’ sheds light on the perils of obsession

But among many other reasons, what captivated the audience in Bona’s initial screenings in 1980 to 1981 and up to this day is its story written by Cenen Ramones, which showcases a tactile example of the Filipinos’ enduring and flawed culture of fanaticism, worship, and martyrdom aggravated by poverty.

Fans lined up at the Ayala Malls Manila Bay to catch a glimpse of Aunor during Bona’s screening, which was even further delayed by a few minutes as her unexpected arrival caused a ruckus inside the theatre. Invited guests from the media and filmmaking circles flocked around her, hoping to get a good photograph. Indeed, the Superstar’s star power has never diminished despite her slowing down in public appearances and projects.

Read more: Can Philippine cinema be saved?

Aunor’s life is not far from Bona’s, although surrealistically opposite, as the latter is a fan of Gardo (Phillip Salvador) in the Brocka film. A schoolgirl from a struggling middle-class family, Bona seeks refuge and respite by watching tapings of low-budget films to see Gardo make some stunts and specific scenes with minimal to no dialogue. But even with a plastic bag of soft drinks in hand and a cigarette ready to be lit, Bona receives only a few affirmations from the actor she fancies, who always leaves the set with a starlet girl, a colegiala fan, or some wealthy matron.

Everything changes when Bona catches Gardo being beaten up by his girlfriend’s brother and friends. Slowly and willingly, Bona takes care of the man of his dreams. This causes a rift between her and her father. She eventually follows her heart, no matter the cost, as she would rather be Gardo’s slave in his decrepit house than live with a broken heart in a house she can barely call a home.

Read more: Ishmael Bernal, Lino Brocka, Lav Diaz: 12 directors who have shaped Philippine cinema

One may argue that Bona is a story of martyrdom, yet by the film’s end, the titular protagonist learns to fight for herself. The film opens with the Feast of the Black Nazarene in Quiapo Church, a religious feast criticised for its devotees’ heedless behaviour. This scene sets the tone for the film as it delves into the perils of obsession.

In the description of its trailer released by the Toronto International Film Festival, Bona was described as “a remarkable work of feminism”. This may be true, as we see the protagonist efficiently do physical labour, endure and contest misogynistic remarks, and finally tip the scales of power in her dynamics with her family and master with a casserole brimming with scalding hot water. However, we see more of Bona being manipulated and swallowing the consequences of her bad life choices rather than instantly escaping her grim situation.

Read more: Filmmaker Zig Dulay is bringing Filipino soul to the global screen with depth and heart

The iconicity of Aunor, who also produced the film under her company NV Productions, could not be brushed aside when tackling this iconic film. Coming from the success of his inaugural Cannes Film Fest offering, Insiang, Brocka delved again into the poverty-stricken Filipino life in Bona. To achieve its requirement of being a realistic depiction of ordinary Filipinos, Brocka leverages Aunor’s influence to gather multitudes of Noranians (avid fans of Aunor) as much as he can and make them complete his canvas, that is, the said film.

Bernal did the same in 1982 with his seminal masterpiece Himala, written by National Artist Ricky Lee. In the final scene, where Elsa walks up to the top of the hill and gathers all her believers, Noranians came—by trucks, buses, and jeeps.

Similarly, Himala and Bona showcase the rich tradition of Philippine theatre and cinema through their roster of impeccable actors. Mostly coming from serious stage works and often cast as ‘character actors’ in mainstream films, actors such as Joel Lamangan, Marissa Delgado, Ruby Ruiz, Nanding Josef, Rustica Carpio, Spanky Manikan, Venchito Galvez, and the PETA Kalinangan Ensemble, among others, breathed life into Bona’s narrative.

Read more: On trauma, Oscars campaign, and more: Carl Papa talks about ‘Iti Mapukpukaw’

Noel Vera, author of Critic After Dark (2005), wrote an essay about Brocka’s legacy in Philippine Cinema published by the Center for Asian American Media. Vera says that the revered filmmaker “exposed the emotional heart of the Filipino people”, most especially in his melodramas. At the forefront of these works are women—from the oppressed to the femme fatale.

Some of Brocka’s iconic films restored, or even those that have survived, for this generation to appreciate, highlight strong female protagonists. This parallels moviegoers’ unexplainable euphoria over female actors throughout cinema’s history. Brocka not only utilised this ‘idol worship’ over female actors—he also put them head-to-head. Hilda Koronel’s Insiang had a dysfunctional relationship with her mother, portrayed by Mona Lisa in Brocka’s 1976 film. In his 1979 film Ina, Kapatid, Anak, he had Lolita Rodriguez and Charito Solis pitted against each other—a showdown that Filipino audiences waited for years.

Read more: Why ‘truth’ matters to Cinemalaya 18 ‘Blue Room’ director Ma-an L Asuncion-Dagñalan

In Bona, however, Aunor exhibited power in powerlessness amidst a patriarchal and conservative society. With blood, sweat, and tears, the actor conveyed depth in her flawed character, reflecting madness and adoration, leaving room for the audience to digest, relish, and empathise.

With Brocka’s masterful direction, Aunor had put the general Filipino population in a microcosm, exposing their subjugation over fascism that had embroiled the country at the time. But Brocka did not make it literal. He made Bona a haunting mirror of ourselves and an ominous warning of what will come when the madness within continues being repressed.

Read more: The makings of a Megastar: How a simple ‘yes’ changed Sharon Cuneta’s life

Brocka showed how Bona’s loving gaze can be turned into something tangible through water in several instances. For one, she helped and comforted Gardo as rain drenched them. Bona would bathe Gardo like how a mother cares for her son. She would fetch water daily from the sole water fountain of Gardo’s shanty community. Some audiences may argue that Bona’s deeds were bewildering, but in the Filipino context (and perhaps in most foreign cultures), we associate water with healing, sustenance, and devotion.

Read more: The Glory and the Glamour: Reminiscing the golden years of Philippine cinema

Meanwhile, Salvador portrayed Gardo with his handsome beauty as his boon and bane. Gardo may be easy for Bona to fall in love with, but his recklessness, immaturity, and non-commital nature overpower his charm. Gardo’s manipulative behaviour parallels Bona’s father (Gonzalez), who exhibits possessiveness.

But Gardo, Bona’s father, and her older brother (Manikan) are subjected to the age-old social ills that prevent her from living freely. Somehow, the men in Bona’s life are not directly at fault, but the realities of Filipino life in the Seventies are.

Like the water slowly reaching a boiling point in Bona’s final scene, the protagonist slowly embraces her powerlessness and realises that she is also at fault. In choosing a life with the man of her dreams over her family, she has put her future in the palm of a stranger. Finally, she is ready to regain her life, using her medium of love as her ultimate weapon.

Brocka’s Bona is a masterpiece worth seeing. It reminds us of the consequences of every choice we make. It shows our life trajectories that parallel with, intersect, and veer from the people we meet. Yes, it exposes our hearts as Filipinos, with all its beauty and flaws. But may we all be reminded of the Shakespeare quote: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings”.

NOW READ

Sundance Film Festival’s first Filipino short film entry: Sonny Calvento’s ‘Excuse Me, Miss, Miss, Miss’

Martika Ramirez Escobar talks about Sundance and why trust is important in today’s independent film

‘Cross my Heart and Hope to Die’ Sole Southeast Asian short film at the Venice Film Festival