How ending a love story matters
Congratulations to writer-buddy Charlson Ong for his multiple triumphs with Tanabata’s Wife, which won the lion’s share of awards, including that for Best Picture (worth P500,000), at the recent Tofarm Film Festival.
Others were for Best Actor (Miyuki Kamimura), Best Actress (Mai Fanglayan), Best Cinematography (Nap Jamir), Best Editing (May-I Padilla), Best Production Design (Martin Asadao), Best Musical Score (Kurt Alalag), and for Charlson, one of our best fiction writers, a share in the credits for Best Screenplay (with Mao Portus, Choy Pangilinan and Juan Carlo Tarobal), and Best Direction (with Choy Pangilinan and Lito Casaje).
Congratulations as well to writerdirector Hubert Tibi for the period film
1957, which received the Best Story award and the second best picture award with a cash prize of P400,000, and to writerdirector Keith Sicat for the sci-fi film
Alimuom, which won as third best picture with a cash prize of P300,000.
Alimuom also earned the Best Supporting Actor award for Richard Quan and became the second top grosser behind Roman Perez Jr.’s Sol Searching, which also got the Audience Choice award. Sharing the Best Supporting Actress award were Bayang Barrios for Kauyagan and Gilleth Sandico for
Sol Searching, while the Best Sound award went to Immanuel Verona for Mga Anak Ng Kamote.
Thank you once again to Dr. Milagros How for sponsoring this film fest for the third straight year, this time with Bibeth Orteza as festival director and Joey Romero as managing director. Heading the script selection committee was Raquel Villavicencio, with Manny Buising, Mario Cornejo, Antoinette Jadaone and yours truly as members. Jury members were Manet Dayrit as chairperson, Jerrold Tarog, Sigrid Andrea Bernardo, Moira Lang and Mel Chionglo.
Most of those who’ve seen all the competing films have been unanimous in saying that Tanabata’s Wife was defintely a cut above the rest, which I haven’t had a chance to watch. My own experience with
TW’s premiere I can only describe as having been quaintly mixed.
The privilege of having read the original script was doubled by familiarity with the original material, Sinai Hamada’s 1932 short story that dwelled on the 1920s experience of Japanese farmers in Trinidad Valley off Baguio City. Then too, among the script readers, I was assigned to coordinate with Charlson before its eventual production — an easy task as long as that’s not done in a music bar where the mic hardly leaves his hand.
At the outset, I found his adaptation of Hamada’s spare love story highly commendable in the way it enhanced the narrative, by cinematically fleshing up many of the scenes.
As for the film, my first impression was one of appreciation for the superb cinematography and directorial handling, especially of the main actors. But as the narrative unfolded onscreen, I couldn’t help but ascribe to a modest budget the loss of scenes that involved a more public and contextual setting, or their transformation into vignettes that merely symbolized what ought to have been full mise-en-scène.
This was especially evident when Fas-ang gets lured to the movie house in Trinidad, and later to run away to Baguio with her male cousin turned lover. Ditto the scene where she rescues her infant son from him.
I also thought that the setting and time frame weren’t sufficiently established, and that other facets of farm work could’ve been shown, other than simply sowing cabbage seedlings as was repeated too much when Fas-ang is initially taught the task by Tanabata. The farm boy Tiago was also under-utilized, when in the script he was key to Fas-ang’s appreciation of Chaplin movies, as well as her climactic return.
This may be nitpicking, sorry, but I’ve felt as such empathy for this otherwise excellent film achievement. I’ve heard of a possible Berlin release. Some improvement would go a long way towards its full appreciation by foreign audiences.
The biggest disappointment for me was the excision of the final scene, which also renders it unfaithful to Hamada’s resolution. I understand that rains that limited the crew to six shooting days, plus something strange that happened (which I’m not at liberty to dis- close), forced the decision to have the film end the way it did. I can only hope that additional funding could be sought for completing these extra scenes. Charlson’s brilliant touch for the ending simply can’t be thrown away. Here’s how Hamada’s story ends: “In the twilight, she stood, uncertain, hesitant. She heard the low mournful tune arising from the bamboo flute that Tanabata was playing, What loneliness! Fas-ang wondered if that now seemingly forbidding house was still open for her. Could she dispense the gloom that had settled upon it? There was a woman’s yearning in her. But she wavered in her resolve, feeling ashamed.
“The music had ceased. She almost turned away when the child, holding her hand, cried aloud. Tanabata looked out of the window, startled. He saw the mother and child. He rushed outside, exultant. Gently, he took them by their hands and led them slowly into the house. Then he lighted the big lamp that had long hung from the ceiling, unused.”
Now compare it to Ong’s masterful adaptation:
“She looks at Tanabata’s house and feels remorse. She decides to turn back. Tiago urges her to go to the house but she refuses. Then Kato wails. She tries to stop him but a lamplight goes on inside Tanabata’s home. We hear him shouting: Fas-ang! Fas-ang! Kato! Kato!
“Fas-ang stands still. Tabanata emerges and runs down to meet them. He embraces them. “TANABATA: What took you so long? “(They all move towards the house.) “TANABATA: Tell me all about the movie.” Now, isn’t that a superlative ending, subtly sealing with one final line of dialogue everything that this cross-cultural love story enveloped and encapsulated, and giving it a more hopeful resolution in place of the deep anguish that continues to torment Tanabata?
Oh, I’d also do away with the cheery montage of outtakes during the credits roll, which may be fit for light comedies, but detracts from this film’s distinctive level of gravitas.