A story that pays tribute to women’s lives

 

Ruth Jordana L. Pison - The Philippine Star 

July 4, 2024 | 12:00am

Shown during Pride Month in June, ‘Isa Ka Pungpong nga Rosas’ demonstrates a nuanced understanding of gender issues, particularly women’s sexuality, domestic violence, sexism, and machismo. The film, set in 2024, presents a more complex narrative, an intense visual translation, and a reminder that such issues persist. The screenplay was written by Kevin Piamonte based on Alice Tan Gonzales’ short story and the film was directed by newcomer Julie Prescott.

Film review: Isa Ka Pungpong nga Rosas (A Bouquet of Roses)

Watching the 40-minute “Isa Ka Pungpong nga Rosas (A Bouquet of Roses)” at the UP Visayas Cinematheque on June 15 was to experience visually and aurally the textual connections of the Palanca Award-winning Hiligaynon story of Alice Tan Gonzales, its screenplay adaptation by FAMAS awardee director Kevin Piamonte, and its film adaptation directed by newcomer Julie Prescott.

Shown in time for Pride Month in June, the film demonstrates a nuanced understanding of gender issues, particularly women’s sexuality, domestic violence, sexism, and machismo. Twenty-five years after Tan Gonzales’ short story was written, the film, set in 2024, presents a more complex narrative, an intense visual translation, and a reminder that such issues persist.

“Pungpong” centers on the inner lives of Gemma (Alyanna Cortum), a woman in her 30s whose birthday is marked by the untimely breakup with an insensitive boyfriend and then by a reconnection with Claire (Taw Muhammad), a recent acquaintance whom she invites for dinner.

Over glasses of wine and vodka martini, Gemma admits to predictable feelings of worthlessness and of a general exhaustion towards life. Claire, on the other hand, prompted by Gemma’s question on being single, reveals that she lost a partner in a vehicular accident and, if being single has to do with it, that she is queer. (In Gonzales’ story, Claire declares herself gay.)

Despite its deceptively simple external action, the film unravels some surprising details. Visually presented as flashbacks, Gemma tells of a series of failed heterosexual relationships — with friends, her married boss, and the immediate ex-boyfriend. One begins to suspect that the film’s critical point is Claire’s revelation and hence the possibility of a blossoming queer relationship between them.

What instead blossoms is a dramatic articulation of female companionship and empowerment highlighted by Gemma’s telling of a traumatic childhood experience which consequently has made her incapable of having healthy adult relationships. While she has not told her ex-lovers of an incestuous past, it is in the expressed empathy and understanding of another woman that has encouraged Gemma to speak out and unburden and confront her secret. Gemma’s occasional funny comments provide comic relief from the serious tone of the entire film. It is this sense of humor that makes her later revelation all the more disconcerting.

As film is both visual and aural, the adaptation of Gonzales’ story successfully intensifies the gravity of the issue without being overly dramatic. The film’s opening scene where Gemma enters her apartment establishes the mood of the narrative and frames the viewers’ expectations. The faceless boyfriend she talks to on the phone foreshadows the unfolding of disturbing scenes. All men in the film are only partially seen, an intentional and impressive move by both Piamonte and Prescott, and it functions as commentary. Also striking in the film is the pronounced use of close-up facial shots conveying crucial changes in the characters’ thoughts and emotions which though subtle are not too subtle to be missed or misunderstood. Shot angles by cinematographer Ruperto Quitag including those of Claire’s hand caressing the stem of a wine glass, the steak eaten by the women for dinner, and the snapping of a car key by a male diner trigger memories of the past.

Gemma and Claire‘s Grab ride after dinner is one of the strongest scenes that show the film’s appreciation of the many possibilities of Tan Gonzales’ story. The well-angled shots of Claire’s pained look and Gemma’s body language as she leans her head on the former’s shoulders dramatize the loss, pain, and trauma both women have had to endure. All shots are intentionally suggestive, acting like metaphors, and move forward the development of character and plot. Piamonte’s choice of Emman Bedia Abatayo’s original composition Magkayakap (sung by Taw Muhammad), sorrowful while wistful, perfectly matches the scene.

The challenge for “Pungpong,” a film about a fairly common issue, is how to create a defamiliarizing effect on its viewers. How can it avoid a clichéd depiction of sexual violence and effectively sound the alarm on its continuing pervasiveness? The film rightfully leaves us to think about these issues and what we can do to help resolve them. Even though Claire admits to Gemma that she resembles her former partner, she does not exploit the situation, the moment of Gemma’s vulnerability, and instead decides to simply be a friend to a friend in need.

“Pause, breathe… You might end up regretting this, too,” she advises Gemma. These powerful words of assurance from Claire before she leaves give viewers a clue to the growing trust and strengthening foundation of their relationship, romantic or otherwise. The bouquet of flowers given by Claire at dinner brings the narrative to a close. Where once flowers were a reminder of the betrayals by men in her life, they have become a symbol of positivity, a bouquet of hope.

Can more films about gender issues heighten our awareness and resolve to attain gender equality and fairness? When asked why she decided to make a film adaptation of Pungpong, this story among the many authored by Tan Gonzales, Prescott shared that aside from receiving encouragement from Piamonte, she believed that the story’s topic remains relevant, and will always remain relevant.

She acknowledged that Gonzales’ story does not lend itself easily to a film adaptation, the same impression I had upon reading Tan Gonzales’ story for the first time. Nevertheless, in the hands of Piamonte and Prescott, the narrative on oppression and impending redemption has acquired new energy, a new life, and a renewed significance.

Prescott felt that “Pungpong” was a “dangerous choice” for a director’s first film since its subject matter is still considered sensitive by many. Interestingly, the story was also involved in a controversy when it won the Palanca in 1997. The two Palanca judges, both recognized scholars in the field of literature and cultural studies, for the Hiligaynon short fiction category were accused of manipulating the results, an allegation which cast doubt on the entire competition.

Could this have been because the story’s essential theme was contentious? As film, “Pungpong” iterates not queerness but primarily and more significantly the many facets of women’s lives, their resiliency, and the importance of finding strength in each other.