Movie Review
Hapis at Himagsik
ni Hermano Puli
Directed by Gil Portes
IT TOOK 21 YEARS before seasoned director Gil Portes was able to bring the film Hapis at Himagsik ni Hermano Puli to the big screen this week.
“This is part of my bucket list, films I intend to do if ever I decide to retire,” he told the media during a special screening of the film on Sept. 2 at Limbaga 77 restaurant in Quezon City.
It was in 1995 that a man approached Mr. Portes with a summary of the life of Hermano Puli — a lesser-known Filipino hero who fought for religious freedom during the Spanish era — and urged him to create a film about him. Upon reading the summary, said Mr. Portes, he decided he would make a film about Hermano Puli. But it took years of anguish before he could get it made.
Much of the difficulty was getting a financier on board. In fact, the film was pulled out of the Metro Manila Film Festival because the film’s then-producer decided to back out for reasons undisclosed by Mr. Portes. Eventually the film was rescued by Rex Tiri of T-Rex Productions (and one of the owners of Limbaga 77 restaurant) who agreed to become the producer and everything was made possible.
The result is a film which makes a valiant effort to impart the heroism of this little known Filipino religious leader. Hailing from Lucban, Quezon, Apolinario de la Cruz aka Hermano Puli (often referred to as Hermano Pule) decided to put up a religious order, the Cofradia de San Jose, in response to the institutionalized racism of the Roman Catholic Church in the Philippines which forbade a non-Spanish person from being a priest. The Cofradia — created by Hermano Puli in 1832 when he was just 18 years old — was exclusive to native Filipinos. At the height of its popularity, it had 4,000 to 5,000 members within the province and its environs. The group grew too big — the Spanish colonial government feared that the Cofradia would eventually instigate a rebellion and sent soldiers to suppress the order. The Cofradia was decimated and Hermano Puli was tried and executed (he was shot and then quartered).
It is readily apparent from the first sequence that the film’s budget was way more than that of the usual indie film: the colors were 4K and, if my guess is correct, the whole thing was shot in 60 fps and the result of all that is a visually arresting film with a flowing smoothness and eye-popping colors.
Mr. Portes declined to say how much the budget was but mentioned in passing that it was big.
Even the production design is not something to sneeze at as the filmmakers decided to create a replica — albeit a small one — of Malacañan Palace during the Spanish occupation, among other sets.
If taken by its visual merits, Hermano Puli is a beautiful film, but where it falls short is ultimately in the acting. All the “Spaniards,” bar none — from the nasty priest who raped a woman to the Governor-General — were portrayed as maniacal, vaudeville villains. Meanwhile, Hermano Puli, played by Aljur Abrenica, is portrayed as a devoutly pious leader who has visions from God.
It is all too black and white. But amidst all the actors who were trying too hard, shown a gem called Vin Abrenica who plays a lieutenant of the Cofradia — he even managed to elicit a couple of laughs from the audience after sarcastically telling a Spanish army officer: “How can you be a Spaniard when your nose is flatter than mine?”
While the story is straightforward, focusing on Hermano Puli’s revolt in search of religious freedom, there are a lot of things that don’t quite make sense, including the coming-out-of-nowhere help from the Aetas during the final skirmish with the Spanish army which seems to be a nod towards Zack Snyder’s 300 (2007) where the Spartan army, on its way to battle against the Persians, was suddenly joined by the Arcadians intending to aid them against invaders.
Then there is also the token “resisting temptation” scene when Hermano Puli, after torridly kissing a Cofradia member called Lina (Louise de los Reyes), tells her that in order to resist temptation, one “must close their eyes and look for God” or something along those lines. It didn’t make sense because it was Puli himself who asked for Lina to come to him in Manila (to wash his clothes, of all things) where he was busy propagating the teachings of Cofradia. This despite the sexual tension between the two characters which is established through much of the film.
Its attempt to fully recreate Hermano Puli’s bloody death is quite successful, as it showed how he was shot to death (and then a couple of times more, for good measure) and how his head was put on a pole for everyone to see. In what is apparently a subtle dig at the extrajudicial killings of today, displayed under his severed head is a placard on which is written, “Erehe. ’Wag Tularan” (Heretic. Do not immitate).
The film — which is really good visually — feels like it takes itself too seriously, heavily emphasizing on Puli’s revolutionary sainthood, but falling short because of the lackluster acting and direction. — Zsarlene B. Chua
MTRCB Rating: PG
