Movie Monday: "The Mountain Thief," a film by Gerry Balasta, 2010

By Kounosu (Own work (own picture)) via Wikimedia Commons

"The Mountain Thief," a film by Gerry Balasta, 2010.

There are always a few films that speak to the senses on a deep, personal level. Stories of humanity, particularly ones that burst open the small cultural and social bubbles we all find ourselves living in, are particularly powerful and necessary. "The Mountain Thief," I believe, should be required viewing for all college students, "first world" citizens worldwide and professed religious individuals who would seek to know and better the world. "The Mountain Thief" shows viewers what happens when communities are forced, by powers far beyond their own immediate influence, to survive on the garbage of others. These individuals find their sustenance by sifting through and reselling recyclables from the trash of the more wealthy people in the Philippines (but this plays out in so many areas across the world). It shows that conflict and community are possible in even the most trying circumstances.

What strikes me about this film is that all the actors are amateurs. In fact, all of them are scavengers in the Philippines, so this leads to an air of realism unattainable by even the most seasoned professional actors. I encourage viewers to watch to the very end, as the filmmakers describe the real lives and dreams of the actors who took part in this film. While many of their dreams may seem trivial to a first-world viewer, they show just how disparate the bounty of "modern living" is distributed throughout the world. Among a few are to cure a son's club foot, to learn to use a computer, to build a home at the foot of mountain of trash, to learn to read and write. These are things we as Americans take for granted, as an unalienable right as Americans, and things that are largely unavailable and unobtainable to many throughout the world.

The film opens as a Simon, the communities drug addict (he sniffs glue, paid for by stealing from other scavengers) is stealing a small sheet of corrugated metal from another family's makeshift roof. He is found out and runs away through a maze of shanty neighborhoods, running into Ato and Elmer on their way to the makeshift basketball court. He stumbles into Julio and his son, Ingo. They are newly arrived from a war-torn region in Mindanao, where his family owned rice fields that were burned in the fighting. They are seeking to survive through scavenging in Little Hope, the community at the foot of the trash mountain. The film makes no illusions as to the circumstances of these individuals. Survival is their daily aim, and though community exists, most are looking out for their own (and their family's) interests.

One of the best things about this film is that it pulls no punches. It also ends rather ambiguously, which may upset some viewers of modern Hollywood film-making. The film understands its own circumstances and does not give the viewer the satisfaction of a happy ending, particularly because for individuals like this film, there is no guaranteed happy ending.

You may be wondering why this film is even worth watching, as it seems to be a real downer. Well, in actuality, it kind of is, considering it is reality for many across the world. There are lighthearted moments, particularly with Ingo, who listens to the local religious zealot Ato teach about prayer, then acts it out on the highest mountain of garbage, because it is "beautiful up there, and close to the heavens." Ingo and his friend find and enjoy an unopened can of soda, a rare treat.

The film is edited to be rather artistic, as scenes will replay to emphasize the overall narrative, and some scenes will not make sense until later in the film. It reminded me a little of the film version of Gandhi, where the viewer sees the inevitable end of the film immediately, but does not understand the context until watching the entire film.

In the end, this is a very powerful statement on the state of the developing world, and asks the developed world just what our role is in perpetuating this environment. As consumers, do we have a moral obligation to address the "end" result of our consumed goods? This film also reflects on, though not explicitly, the historical circumstances that developed this environment.

Did the independence of the Philippines come too rapidly? Would the Philippines have been better off as a territory for a while longer, until basic infrastructure and stability could be achieved (like in Japan, post WWII?)

Although politics seems to play a small role in the film directly, viewers who know will recognize the handy work of corruption in the Philippines, among politicians and other wealthy families who benefit from others' poverty. But these actors care little for politics and international policy. They are looking for a few pesos to buy a little rice to feed their families for another day.

To see how you can contribute to the Mount Hope Project to help the actors in this film, see "The Mountain Thief" website here.

Stream or Purchase "The Mountain Thief" from Amazon.

Movie Monday: "Ilo Ilo," a film by Anthony Chen

This week, I wanted something that was completely different for me. I happened to find just this in Anthony Chen’s “Ilo Ilo,” a slice-of-life drama showcasing life in Singapore c. 1997, during the great economic crisis in Asia. I also reveals the dynamic between different ethnic groups within South East Asia, and hints at the relative hierarchy of each group. The relative economic differences between, say, Singapore and the Philippines is also shown through the characters’ relative situations, however it doesn’t reflect on which characters are “good” or “bad” in the traditional sense. Many of the actors are unknown to me, and likely many in Western cinema. The screen time is generously shared among the four main characters, so establishing who the “lead” is is problematic for Western audiences. Singaporean veteran actor Chen Tian Wen captures the hardships inherent as the struggling family patriarch Teck. Yeo Yann Yann plays is wife Hwee Leng, who is pregnant with a daughter and dealing with the stress of a hard marriage and a hard job. Newcomer Koh Jia Ler plays Jiale, a parent’s nightmare. A young man faced with his parents’ rocky marriage and hard life, he acts out at school and captures the challenges of any young boy learning for himself. Finally, we have Angeli Bayani playing Terry, a migrant Filipino housekeeper and maid. Bayani’s facial expressions, I think, capture the sort of “I must endure it” attitude necessary when faced with such hard choices as leaving your home for work, and the inherent, though not always obvious, prejudice against Filipinos among other South Asian groups. Many of the performances were spot on, and arguably very little could be added to improve the feel of the film. I appreciate that stereotyping wasn’t as prevalent in this film as in some American-made films, which often portray Asian characters, even in 2015, as martial arts masters, wise teachers and dragon ladies.

Jiale (Koh) is a troubled young man. He acts out at school and is constantly studying gambling odds when he should be focusing on his school lessons. His parents Teck (Chen) and Hwee Leng (Yeo) are at their wits end, finding their own stresses at work while trying to make allowances for their son. Finally, they decide to hire Teresa (Bayani), a Filipino mother looking for work in Singapore to help support her young infant son back in the Philippines. This film shows hardship piled on hardship, and helps introduce Western audiences to a different world that may be more similar than we’d think. There is good material here for looking at the ethnic hierarchies within South Asia, as well as the relative economic positions of immigrants relative to the majority. There is also just a good, quality film that is different than much of what comes out of Hollywood.

I found this film to be eye opening. Specifically, I have not seen many Singaporean films, nor have I had access to many films not made in China, Hong Kong, Korea, or Japan. It is refreshing to see films that showcase something different, without devolving into a kind of “poor me” attitude that is easy to take when showing non-Western films to Western audiences. The characters do not ask for your sympathy, but seem to say “see my endurance.” In the end, however, the human element tries to ensure we do feel for the characters, even troublemaker Jiale. Viewers will likely relate to the economic hardships the characters face, as much of the world emerges from an economic depression unseen for decades. Even when things get rough, however, the characters face their troubles as best they can.

This film is powerful, almost overly so. There were many moments where I felt “wow, I didn’t know it was like that.” The plight of Filipino immigrants trying to send money back home is a familiar situation with many Mexican immigrants looking to feed their families back home, especially here in California. This is not ancient history, or likely even history, as much as it is a reflection of what still happens today. While there is value is realizing what was during the 1997 economic downturn, analogies can be made today, and likely will apply in the future as well. Anyone interested in seeing something different (for me), and seeing a different world outside the most common depictions of Asian cinema would do well to check out “Ilo Ilo.” I wasn’t disappointed.

Stream / Purchase

Points of Interest:

Filipino women as housekeepers and maids, jealousy of relationships with children

Ethnic relations within East and Southeast Asia

Singaporean culture as it relates to other neighboring nations

“under the table” work of worker immigrants

Corporal punishment in cultures

Film Review: Wang Xiaoshuai's Beijing Bicycle

 

By Scottmeltzer (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

  Wang Xiaoshuai's film Beijing Bicycle covers a number of themes which other films within modern Chinese cinema tackle in various ways. The challenges brought about by change, modernity and commodities, the divide between the city and the countryside, personal relationships between classes and sexes, and the state of social structures within modern China are but a few. Taken on its own, this film is a powerful commentary on a number of institutions of modern China, but also focuses on the very human element of struggle.
  One theme which is apparent throughout the film is the challenge of rural migrants when confronted with urban living. As Barme says in the article “Bike Envy,” the film “portrays the young men and women from the country[...] as quiescent and dumb.” On a superficial level, the viewer sees Guei's character as weak in the face of adversity, in that he doesn't speak up when spoken down to. However, I believe a more sophisticated analysis coincides with Wright's view, namely that the silence of Guei, and to a lesser extent his older friend, reflects “his difference and wonderment at the city.” Furthermore, I would argue that it reflects the breakdown of communication between the two classes of “urban dweller” and “rural migrant,” in that the migrant will speak, yet no one will openly listen. It's as if the arguments would not only fall on deaf ears, but that the sheer fact that they are arguing the issues stems from an inherent characteristic of the “backward” rural population. This concept of the backwardness of rural workers segues into the concepts of stubbornness, which many people use to describe Guei.
  Stubbornness is a characteristic reflected within a number of characters within modern Chinese films, like Teacher Wei in Not One Less, or Qiu Ju in The Story of Qiu Ju. In Wang's words, the idea of stubbornness is what pulls the people through the challenges of city life. Furthermore, it reflects the harsh realities that rural people face when they move into the city. The fact that such a determined spirit is what is needed just to maintain a meager standard of living, namely for Guei to acquire and keep his bicycle and his job, reflects how stratified the economic systems have become between urban and rural areas. Similarly, we are left with questions of whether or not such a method for dealing with life is really productive. In Not One Less, the audience is left to wonder what the fate of the village chief will be, and how Qiu Ju feels about her experiences with the modern Chinese system of law. In Not One Less, the students are given new chalk, as well as some funds to (possibly) fix up the school and provide some new resources for their education. However, the audience is again left with a sense of incompleteness. Though they got a small donation, what of the rest of the time? Will the funding continue, or end when the story is no longer important? Like these characters, Guei's determination ended up getting him beaten, bruised, and his bike broken to pieces. However, it also allowed him to survive through the whole ordeal, and he did get his bike back. On the subject of the bike, the audience is left to wonder what the importance of the bike is.
  The bike represents some similar and different qualities which are important among the two boys, Jian and Guei. For Guei, the bike reflects his status in Beijing as a real resident, in that he has a job and he has some status among the urban dwellers. It further represents his livelihood, and a material good which he earned through his own hard work. Jian also uses the bike as a tool to gain status, among his friends and his girlfriend. Though he does push them away when he loses the bike, his status is severely decreased when he can't get it back. Both characters see the bicycle as a material possession, although they see it from different points of view. Additionally, the bike reflects Jian's desire to be associated with a pop culture, namely the X-Games style tricks on the bike. The materialistic and consumer society both characters face in another topic taken up within the film.
  Jian also treats his girlfriend as a material possession, completely ignoring her presence when in the arcade. In a way, both characters attack the perceived usurper of their material possession (with a brick). Guei attacks the thug who is destroying his bicycle, and Jian attacks the “Oakley Guy” who “stole” his girlfriend from him. The reflects both character's reactions to material culture, as well as their relationship to material goods. The commentary seems to be the attraction the youth have to material and consumer goods, whether it be for livelihood or entertainment. As we see with the characters of Unknown Pleasures, Jian seems to question what to do once he has all that he would want. When he is alone with his girlfriend, he attempts to get close, but can't seem to pull himself to make a move. Similarly, Guei is silenced throughout the film by the urban dwellers who challenge him. While not exactly reflecting his reactions to all his desires being met, it does reflect the arresting feeling he has at the new lifestyle.
  Beijing Bicycle was a challenging film to watch the first time through. I happened to catch it on the IFC channel long before attending this class, and didn't know what to make of it then. Now, with the benefit of practice at film analysis, as well as further knowledge of the kind of material the director wants to comment on, and the three-peat screening, I believe I have a good idea what the film was trying to say. I imagine further viewings will offer different commentaries, or a new discovery. But the film offers a great analysis of the challenges and changes happening within modern China.