MOVIE REVIEW: Bona (1980)
SOURCE: The Urian Anthology 1980-1989
REVIEW: Bona
Nestor U. Torre, Philippines Daily Express, 1981
Obsession
“Bona” is a story of obsession, the tragedy of the fan turned fanatic. It delves into what
causes an otherwise sensible girl to throw discretion and self-respect to the wind to serve
her beloved. In the fan-atical context of Philippine movies, it is a story that needs to be told.
Interestingly, it is told by Director Lino Brocka, who admits to having been a movie fan
himself during his childhood years in the province, but who has since eschewed all that
hysteria in favor of making substantial movies, most of which have gone against the fan
syndrome. Even more tellingly, the title role of the fan is acted by superstar Nora Aunor,
who also used to be a movie fan and is now the golden goddess at whose feet of clay the
greatest number of the country’s fans prostrate themselves.
Clearly, Brocka, Aunor and writer Cenen Ramos know the phenomenon whereof they
speak. The intimate knowledge makes for a film that rings true both for the expert in
abnormal psychology and for the gaga movie fan reliving his dream and high nightmare in
the audience.
Movies play an abnormally important part in Philippine life. They offer escape, cheap
thrills, and idealized pluperfection, and the trapped, bored, and nondescript citizen laps
them up as though they were the perfect alternative to the grossly imperfect reality of his
life. In truth, the movies offer no alternative at all, since alternatives must be first real and
accessible in order to be viable. The illusion proffered by our movies is ultimately nothing
more than sad delusion.
But the diehard fan agrees to be deluded. He is happy to believe the beautiful lies of the
cinema, because, by his gnomic standards, a beautiful lie is better than ugly truth of
existence. For most fans, this delusion is just a lark, a temporary psychic vacation from the
hard facts of living, a pleasant daydream from which he can awaken with no serious
hangovers.
For a few, however, the delusion becomes their new reality, and their lives are wrecked by
it. They become so totally wrapped up in their film idols that they lose their own sense of
self, and self-worth. The idol becomes everything, the fan is reduced to nothing. The name
of the psychological game of is obsession.
“Bona” is obsessed, not with a superstar, but with a bit player (Phillip Salvador). Even by
movie-fan standards, that’s terribly gauche! Going ga-ga over Christopher de Leon is one
thing, but flipping for a mangy bit player is something else again. “Wa’” class! But Bona
couldn’t care less. In her fantasticating little mind, the bit player is Christopher de Leon,
Lito Lapid and Lloyd Samartino combined, with Alfie Anido thrown into the bargain.
To serve him utterly, she braves rain, hunger, the scorn of her “decent” family, the illness
and ultimate death of her father, the subsequent anger of her brother, the pain of seeing
her idol bedding other women, the ordeal of having to arrange for the abortion of one of
the girls he’s so casually impregnated, and the shame of having to “service” him sexually
without the slightest reciprocation of love or even gratitude on his part.
In the end, the nasty man announces that he’s leaving the country with his latest and
wealthiest inamorata. Bona, who has taken all the shit he’s casually thrown her way, can
take no more. She kills the bastard. In the process, she has hopefully killed her insane
obsession for him. Or maybe she has also killed herself.
What a story! The film is set in fetid Philippine slum, but it is so strong that it may well have
been set in a theater in ancient Greece, where the most powerful and incomprehensible of
human emotions rivaled the monumental tantrums of the gods.
There are reports that this film will be sent as the Philippine entry to the Cannes Film
Festival. Initially, the story is so “small” that there would seem to be little about it to
recommend it to an international audience of critics and jurors. On the other hand, the film’
s obsession with obsession reminds us more than a little of Roman Polanski and his
“Repulsion” and we remember that was a “small” film too but its obsessive force made a
major impact on film experts around the world. The same could be true for Brocka and his
“Bona.”
Strangely enough, the best performance in “Bona” is turned in, not by Nora Aunor in the
title role, but by Phillip Salvador as the bit player who is her idol, her nemesis, and her
obsession. Nora is all over the place and gives the role everything she’s got. Indeed, on
the afternoon I saw the film, the theater was filled with her fans, and they were shrieking
and swooning over her “dramatic highlights.” Nora knows when to be simple, when to be
subtle, and when to let go of her emotional stops. She is truly a consummate, intelligent
actress, and clearly deserves the praise of critics and the adulation of her fans.
Trouble is, she is too intelligent for her part. Obsession is born of emotional weakness, a
psychological vacuum that the idol is idealized into filling. As Aunor portrays her on screen,
Bona is too sensible and savvy a woman to make this act of self-delusion plausible.
She is also a mite too old for the role. Granted, there are “diehard” fans in their fifties and
sixties, but the character of Bona, as written. Is clearly intended for a young girl (She is
supposed to be still a student, for one thing). The character’s innocence would account for
much of her naivete, and Nora does manage the Naïve but, but it feels a little forced. On
the other hand, the fact that he, too is no longer a spring chicken helps Salvador in his
portrayal of the trying-hard bit player who is destined to be a has-been even before he
has been anything at all. His age makes the character even more pathetic. Salvador has a
perfect feel for the bit player’s braggadocio in public, his private fears, his dimwitted
dreams and his casual cruelty. Stardom is his own obsession, and his failure to achieve it
consumes him as much as her failure to possess him consumes Bona in the end. I’m
surprised that Salvador didn’t win the Best Actor award at the Metro Filmfest last month (so
what else is new?).
Director Brocka, writer Ramones, and cinematographer Conrado Baltazar work wonders in
seeing this slim and deceptively simple story through to its tragic conclusion. From
apparently casual events, they fashion a structure of portents and symbols that are
evinced not just for artistic show-and-tell but for forceful dramatic force.
As they see it, Bona is fire and the bit player is water, and one must either douse the other
or set him or her to a murderous boil. For most of the film, it is Bona who must bank on her
fires and drown in the ocean of her idol’s needs and ingratitude. In the end, however, fire
finally asserts itself, and the bit player’s goose is literally cooked (along with the bit player!).
True enough, the ending is much too prolonged and melodramatic for comfort. Obviously,
symbols and portents have a way of getting mired in self-importance. And our interest in
the film does flag at certain points, when the loose ends prove to be too close for their,
and our, own good. But the basic soundness of the film’s premise, plus the importance of
its theme, particularly in this movie-mad Philippines, sees the film through these rough
spots.
Exceptional performances are also turned in by members of the supporting cast---in
particular, Venchito Galvez as Bona’s father and the ensemble playing the various
neighbors and friends in the film’s slum setting.
Some people want to know: Why are most of Brocka’s films set in the slums? Obviously,
these people have mud and proletarian bonhomie coming out of their ears. Well, to each
his own consciousness. Fact: there are many slums in the Philippines. Fact: not everything
in the Philippines is a slum. Directors react to those two facts as the spirit moves them.
Brocka makes films about slums; fritz Ynfante makes “Forbes”--- who is to say which is
“better” for each director, other than the director involved?
Second question: Doesn’t Brocka's predilection for slum stories limit him as a director, and
make his work repetitive and therefore ultimately predictable and boring? Yes. But tell that
to Brocka and he won’t be wishing you a Happy New Year. So what? So, nothing. In
directing, subjectivity is all. You want Brocka to expand his horizon as a director? He has to
want it himself before anything will happen. And that will come, in his own good time.
Final question: “Will “Bona’s” tragic story open the eyes of our movie fans and teach them
to be less obsessive?” It doesn’t look like it. When I saw the film, the fans around me were
suffering every inch the way with Nora, but they were “ecstatically.” They saw the film, not
as an indictment, but as their apotheosis. Susan Roces has nothing to worry about; for
that matter, neither does Nora Aunor.
SOURCE: The Urian Anthology 1980-1989
REVIEW: Bona
Nestor U. Torre, Philippines Daily Express, 1981
Obsession
“Bona” is a story of obsession, the tragedy of the fan turned fanatic. It delves into what
causes an otherwise sensible girl to throw discretion and self-respect to the wind to serve
her beloved. In the fan-atical context of Philippine movies, it is a story that needs to be told.
Interestingly, it is told by Director Lino Brocka, who admits to having been a movie fan
himself during his childhood years in the province, but who has since eschewed all that
hysteria in favor of making substantial movies, most of which have gone against the fan
syndrome. Even more tellingly, the title role of the fan is acted by superstar Nora Aunor,
who also used to be a movie fan and is now the golden goddess at whose feet of clay the
greatest number of the country’s fans prostrate themselves.
Clearly, Brocka, Aunor and writer Cenen Ramos know the phenomenon whereof they
speak. The intimate knowledge makes for a film that rings true both for the expert in
abnormal psychology and for the gaga movie fan reliving his dream and high nightmare in
the audience.
Movies play an abnormally important part in Philippine life. They offer escape, cheap
thrills, and idealized pluperfection, and the trapped, bored, and nondescript citizen laps
them up as though they were the perfect alternative to the grossly imperfect reality of his
life. In truth, the movies offer no alternative at all, since alternatives must be first real and
accessible in order to be viable. The illusion proffered by our movies is ultimately nothing
more than sad delusion.
But the diehard fan agrees to be deluded. He is happy to believe the beautiful lies of the
cinema, because, by his gnomic standards, a beautiful lie is better than ugly truth of
existence. For most fans, this delusion is just a lark, a temporary psychic vacation from the
hard facts of living, a pleasant daydream from which he can awaken with no serious
hangovers.
For a few, however, the delusion becomes their new reality, and their lives are wrecked by
it. They become so totally wrapped up in their film idols that they lose their own sense of
self, and self-worth. The idol becomes everything, the fan is reduced to nothing. The name
of the psychological game of is obsession.
“Bona” is obsessed, not with a superstar, but with a bit player (Phillip Salvador). Even by
movie-fan standards, that’s terribly gauche! Going ga-ga over Christopher de Leon is one
thing, but flipping for a mangy bit player is something else again. “Wa’” class! But Bona
couldn’t care less. In her fantasticating little mind, the bit player is Christopher de Leon,
Lito Lapid and Lloyd Samartino combined, with Alfie Anido thrown into the bargain.
To serve him utterly, she braves rain, hunger, the scorn of her “decent” family, the illness
and ultimate death of her father, the subsequent anger of her brother, the pain of seeing
her idol bedding other women, the ordeal of having to arrange for the abortion of one of
the girls he’s so casually impregnated, and the shame of having to “service” him sexually
without the slightest reciprocation of love or even gratitude on his part.
In the end, the nasty man announces that he’s leaving the country with his latest and
wealthiest inamorata. Bona, who has taken all the shit he’s casually thrown her way, can
take no more. She kills the bastard. In the process, she has hopefully killed her insane
obsession for him. Or maybe she has also killed herself.
What a story! The film is set in fetid Philippine slum, but it is so strong that it may well have
been set in a theater in ancient Greece, where the most powerful and incomprehensible of
human emotions rivaled the monumental tantrums of the gods.
There are reports that this film will be sent as the Philippine entry to the Cannes Film
Festival. Initially, the story is so “small” that there would seem to be little about it to
recommend it to an international audience of critics and jurors. On the other hand, the film’
s obsession with obsession reminds us more than a little of Roman Polanski and his
“Repulsion” and we remember that was a “small” film too but its obsessive force made a
major impact on film experts around the world. The same could be true for Brocka and his
“Bona.”
Strangely enough, the best performance in “Bona” is turned in, not by Nora Aunor in the
title role, but by Phillip Salvador as the bit player who is her idol, her nemesis, and her
obsession. Nora is all over the place and gives the role everything she’s got. Indeed, on
the afternoon I saw the film, the theater was filled with her fans, and they were shrieking
and swooning over her “dramatic highlights.” Nora knows when to be simple, when to be
subtle, and when to let go of her emotional stops. She is truly a consummate, intelligent
actress, and clearly deserves the praise of critics and the adulation of her fans.
Trouble is, she is too intelligent for her part. Obsession is born of emotional weakness, a
psychological vacuum that the idol is idealized into filling. As Aunor portrays her on screen,
Bona is too sensible and savvy a woman to make this act of self-delusion plausible.
She is also a mite too old for the role. Granted, there are “diehard” fans in their fifties and
sixties, but the character of Bona, as written. Is clearly intended for a young girl (She is
supposed to be still a student, for one thing). The character’s innocence would account for
much of her naivete, and Nora does manage the Naïve but, but it feels a little forced. On
the other hand, the fact that he, too is no longer a spring chicken helps Salvador in his
portrayal of the trying-hard bit player who is destined to be a has-been even before he
has been anything at all. His age makes the character even more pathetic. Salvador has a
perfect feel for the bit player’s braggadocio in public, his private fears, his dimwitted
dreams and his casual cruelty. Stardom is his own obsession, and his failure to achieve it
consumes him as much as her failure to possess him consumes Bona in the end. I’m
surprised that Salvador didn’t win the Best Actor award at the Metro Filmfest last month (so
what else is new?).
Director Brocka, writer Ramones, and cinematographer Conrado Baltazar work wonders in
seeing this slim and deceptively simple story through to its tragic conclusion. From
apparently casual events, they fashion a structure of portents and symbols that are
evinced not just for artistic show-and-tell but for forceful dramatic force.
As they see it, Bona is fire and the bit player is water, and one must either douse the other
or set him or her to a murderous boil. For most of the film, it is Bona who must bank on her
fires and drown in the ocean of her idol’s needs and ingratitude. In the end, however, fire
finally asserts itself, and the bit player’s goose is literally cooked (along with the bit player!).
True enough, the ending is much too prolonged and melodramatic for comfort. Obviously,
symbols and portents have a way of getting mired in self-importance. And our interest in
the film does flag at certain points, when the loose ends prove to be too close for their,
and our, own good. But the basic soundness of the film’s premise, plus the importance of
its theme, particularly in this movie-mad Philippines, sees the film through these rough
spots.
Exceptional performances are also turned in by members of the supporting cast---in
particular, Venchito Galvez as Bona’s father and the ensemble playing the various
neighbors and friends in the film’s slum setting.
Some people want to know: Why are most of Brocka’s films set in the slums? Obviously,
these people have mud and proletarian bonhomie coming out of their ears. Well, to each
his own consciousness. Fact: there are many slums in the Philippines. Fact: not everything
in the Philippines is a slum. Directors react to those two facts as the spirit moves them.
Brocka makes films about slums; fritz Ynfante makes “Forbes”--- who is to say which is
“better” for each director, other than the director involved?
Second question: Doesn’t Brocka's predilection for slum stories limit him as a director, and
make his work repetitive and therefore ultimately predictable and boring? Yes. But tell that
to Brocka and he won’t be wishing you a Happy New Year. So what? So, nothing. In
directing, subjectivity is all. You want Brocka to expand his horizon as a director? He has to
want it himself before anything will happen. And that will come, in his own good time.
Final question: “Will “Bona’s” tragic story open the eyes of our movie fans and teach them
to be less obsessive?” It doesn’t look like it. When I saw the film, the fans around me were
suffering every inch the way with Nora, but they were “ecstatically.” They saw the film, not
as an indictment, but as their apotheosis. Susan Roces has nothing to worry about; for
that matter, neither does Nora Aunor.
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