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| Image from My Movie World. |
TBA Studios has been in the business of turning Philippine history into mainstream entertainment, featuring revolutionary heroes during the Philippine-American war. It began in 2015 with the box-office hit "Heneral Luna,” kick-starting what would become a whole new heroes franchise à la Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Big-budgeted and backed by one of the most sought-after directors of our time, the 41-year-old Jerrold Tarog, this heroes franchise is turning out to be quite lucrative, creating a fandom among Filipinos, old or Millenial, both history buff and the apathetic.
This year, the second installment of the heroes trilogy spotlights Gregorio "Goyo" Del Pilar, one of the youngest Revolutionary Army generals in Philippine history. "Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral" has the same sweeping, panoramic visuals and one hell of a production design like "Heneral Luna," but is reportedly way more expensive.
Goyo, historically known as a ladies' man, is played by the handsome Paulo Avelino ("Ang Larawan"). In the opening text, Tarog warns us that the film is a mix of historical facts and fiction. However, Tarog does not take full advantage of the “fiction” part, scrimping on his creative license and in his reimagining of Goyo.
Avelino's Goyo is stiff as a board and sports only one facial expression. From Dagupan to Bulacan, to Ilocos Sur, when he's at rest, during battlefield, or when he's lusting after a woman, he has the same stoic, clueless expression.
The problem with the movie is that Tarog and co-writer Rody Vera are more concerned with telling than showing. Goyo is relentlessly talked about in this movie: a lover boy more preoccupied with women than with the Revolution. A young and arrogant severe loyalist to President Emilio Aguinaldo (Mon Confiado) and who also suffers from PTSD that stemmed from the Kakarong de Sili battle, where a Mausar bullet grazed his forehead. But, painfully, we barely see or experience this fascinating persona. We are mostly just informed through dialogue and narration, with little visual expressions.
Goyo's "flirtations" are limited to eye contacts with his latest conquest, the equally stiff Remedios Nable Jose (Gwen Zamora), plus the distressed looks of his ex, Felicidad (Empress Schuck), and a bunch of love letters that a snoopy teenage photographer finds in the general's knapsack.
Of course, there's the theatrical trio of girls on the sidelines, which reminds you of the three bombshells ogling after Gaston in the Disney animated "Beauty and the Beast." But Goyo's reputation as a lover boy is neither intimately nor humorously explored. The audience is placed as a mere eavesdropper, learning about his conquests through other people and not from Goyo himself.
Then there's Zamora's Remedios, who, throughout the entire movie, is wearing a frown. Not once did this woman smile. Or give us a hint that she is at least attracted to the sexy general. She always looks heavily burdened, not only perhaps by her thick heavy hair and equally thick makeup foundation, but also probably by the weight of the world. She is perpetually stressed by information of Goyo's string of women, but she never expresses, even subtly, her internal struggle with her feelings for Goyo.
Art Acuña returns as Manual Bernal, and his torture scene is the film's only powerful, incisive element. While being tortured by Goyo's men, Bernal accuses the boy general of being nothing but Aguinaldo's dog. This scene, shot beautifully, is the heart of this whole shebang. But while Tarog makes Goyo visibly affected by Bernal's statement, we never experience Goyo's fanatic loyalty to Aguinaldo.
Then, smiliar to "Heneral Luna," the excessive character Joven (Arron Villaflor) returns to serve as the audience's "thinker." This time he's not a reporter for the "La Independencia," but the in-house photographer of the Goyo company.
For Tarog and Vera, the boy Joven is a narrative necessity to explain what's happening. He is the commentator, spoon-feeding the audience with his analyses and observations.
Again, this is a major problem with the film. The screenplay cannot stand alone without a Joven. Either Tarog does not trust the audience to think on their own or he does not trust the film to inspire insight without a narrator. He instead gives us a "Bayani" treatment. Or a "Superbook" and "The Flying House" style, with an outsider character to assist with our movie-watching.
If several historical drama and biopics, such as "Lincoln," can solidly rely on the power of a deeply developed character and a smart screenplay that is rich with historical facts and delicious fictional elements, why, then, for the need for a Joven character?
Apolinario Mabini (Epy Quizon) also assists in explaining things to us through espitolary means. Although this is more acceptable than Joven's narrative existence, the telling is too much that it renders the film dull and lifeless.
When doing historical drama, fiction is the spice. While facts are naturally retained, such as events, dates, locations, and reports, it is the fiction, the imagination of the filmmaker as an artist, that breathes life and entertainment to our textbook knowledge.
What is Goyo's unique mannerisms? How does he win women’s hearts and break them? Who is Goyo when stripped of his uniform? Who is Goyo when he's in the bathroom? When he's alone? How does he handle his fears and insecurities? What's he like when threatened or angered? These should be invented for the sake of emotional connection.
Unfortunately, the film doesn't reveal, even imaginatively, the human that is Goyo or the boy general with his own set of extraordinary achievements. Avelino is just costumed in his khaki uniform, with a deadpan expression, experiencing one or two nightmares and panic attacks, or looking skywards to himself as an eagle. He's almost always relegated to the backseat and overpowered by Joven's presence.
The movie takes off right after the events of "Heneral Luna" and follows the last few months in the life of the supposed lover-boy general. We are given bullet points of the six-month timeline up to that fateful day in the Battle of Tirad Pass where, in the midst of stunning vistas, the hero (or the antihero) meets his end.
In the skirmish at Mt. Tirad in Ilocos Sur, we meet the American army. So heavy and lengthy is the perspective given to the opponents and their war tactics that you find yourself already rooting for them and forgetting that you are sided with the Filipinos.
You've got to admire Tarog and the studios for the effort and the earnestness to provide Filipino viewers a historical film with technical quality. Its expensive and visually pleasing production design shows respect for the paying audience. And the film has artistic merits, like haunting visual metaphors and an exquisite foreshadowing of Goyo’s imminent death.
But, alas this film, although admirably stepping out of the conventional Pinoy historical movie, is still very limited in imagination and creativity. "Heneral Luna" has more life and color.
“Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral” has themes of loyalty, nationalism, idolatry, and admits the flaws of the Filipino culture, but they are merely understood in the film—not experienced. A viewer has a tendency to react to the movie not because it is powerfully stirring, but because he's already politically impassioned to begin with.
Antiheroes are delicious materials in the art of motion picture, and this trilogy of Philippine heroes impressively aims to dissect our "idols" and scrutinize them with a fine-toothed comb. Tarog probably approached Goyo with a restrained treatment, but with a dry and flimsy characterization, the general and the man that is Goyo ends up becoming a cardboard cutout of a pretty boy described boringly by people around him.
2 out of 5 stars
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