Manila

Lino Brocka's masterful study of a man's loss of innocence is a centerpiece of great Filipino cinema. The tale of young innocents traveling to the infamous city of Manila, and losing their way, has been told countless times, but "Manila: In the Claws of Neon" was the first, and this unflinching look at urban decay must have shocked people at the time. Bembol Roco is heartbreaking in his role as the small-town laborer who travels to Manila in search of his beautiful girlfriend, who has vanished without a word. With his baby face and puppy dog eyes, he conveys the image of the ultimate naive youth, and Hilda Koronel possesses the same pure quality, as his lost love, Ligaya.

Once in the clutches of the decadent metropolis, Julio is forced to either let go of his innocence, or be swallowed up by the ruthless, hardened characters around him. This same theme returns in Brocka's equally powerful "Insiyag." 'Maynila' is more than a study of lost innocence, of course. It is also an honest look at third World poverty, and the desperation that causes people to do things that they might not do otherwise, in order to survive. One of the film's most harrowing scenes features a scared and sickened Julio, lured into working at a sleazy male whorehouse. The character is obviously not homosexual, and being forced into having sex with men is the beginning of his own personal demise. The bloody, shocking climax of this film is one of the most memorable disturbing set pieces in film, and was borrowed from heavily, by Martin Scorsese a year later for his classic "Taxi Driver." Viewed back to back it becomes evident as the scenes in the hallway of the dark apartment tenement are virtually identical. Brocka's vision came first, too bad so few people are not aware of this beautiful film. Thought to be lost, due to improper storage of the film, this has surfaced on the internet, which is where i was able to finally see it. This one, and some other Filipino films are long overdue for restored DVD releases. If you can find it, see it.

In all the long, hit-and-miss years of Philippine cinema, no other movie made an impact as much as "Maynila". This movie is proof that low-budgeted movies can truly be maximized by a beautiful, thought-provoking story. `Maynila' is the tragic story of Julio (Bembol Roco), a small-town fisherman who went to the big city to search for Ligaya, his sweetheart (Hilda Koronel), losing his innocence and humanity in the process.

The acting was not superb, but the plot and storyline carried the cast all the way, making each character as memorable as the next. Julio's journey through the streets of Manila is real. The direction was extraordinary. The climax and ending of the story is as surprising as 'Fight Club' and 'Seven', but will leave you thinking and utterly breathless, applause in seat. Never has a tragedy been as beautiful as this.

Also, never will the Philippines experience a movie as beautiful as this. Never again.

"Manila in the Claws of Light" owes its distinct brand of cinema verite to Italy's postwar neorealist cinema of De Sica's contemporaries. It offers a realistic look at the titular city while also providing a universal story of life and death in the metropolis. Owing to its title, the film explores the fatality of being drawn to the light. Julio searches for Ligaya, the "joy" and the light of his life, but finds himself ruined in the process. He ventures into the city, the light that supposedly brings financial stability, and faces disillusionment instead. Mixing visceral, documentary-like realism with the narrative focus of Hollywood noir and melodrama, Manila in the Claws of Light is an emotional journey that will leave the audience floored by its ending.

Over four decades later, Maynila sa mga Kuko ng Liwanag (1975) holds up as a tale of a city mostly unwilling to provide opportunities for its poorest inhabitants.

Julio Maldiaga (played by Bembol Roco), a man from the province, struggles to make ends meet in Manila, switching from one source of income to the next while dealing with all misfortunes that Manila presents his way. What keeps him going is the desire to reunite with an old flame, Ligaya, who moved to the city from their province in search of a better life.

Similar to Filipino film classics of the era, Lino Brocka's masterpiece does not hesitate portraying Manila as irredeemable--a city filled with exploited construction workers, prostitutes left with no choice but to sell their soul, thriving informal settlers, and people above their socioeconomic class who get to dictate how the world works. The angst against the Marcos-era social order is evident here, as Brocka shows the demonstrations in the streets, as well as anti-government slogans in the walls, as a backdrop of the decaying Philippine capital.

The final scene proves little has changed since Brocka's work came to life on the big screen in 1975. The Julio Maldiagas of Manila in the 21st century are often than not presented with the same demise: a literal dead end, with all the wrong decisions a person and Manila made for himself coming back to bite him.

As always with a film like Manila in thr Claws of Light, context counts above all. This is a story that has a setting in the Phillipenes of poverty and a crushing sense of 'got to get by on the skin of my teeth', not to mention the exploitation of... Everyone, whether it be through work by day, by night, human and sex trafficking, the works (only drugs seem to be absent here, but im sure where were on the margins if not out in the open). The sense of repression in this society makes Italian neo-realist cinema seen quaint, and that is a strength of Brocka's film because he is putting up a lens through how he sees it: this is horrible, this is punishing, and the only thing that can be a light is if people care about one another.

Though the thrust of the story is if Julio will find his beloved Ligaya in Manila, we dont get to that resolution until two thirds of the way into the film. Primarily this is about how someone who is an outsider to the city as Julio is from a seaside village (though still very much of the culture and time and place), and so we are also those outsiders. This is not meant to be a subtle trip - the horrible boss of the construction workers, being paid 2.50 a day but on paper it's 4, often is munching on a cigar and has the boss ethic of any given sweatshop in history - but thats not really a detriment. We believe this setting because we believe the people. I assume most of these players are not professionals, and they do well under Brocak's direction and tight budget. So when Julio is out in the streets, or outside the building where hes mostly certain Ligaya is being stowed away, it doesn't feel like we are seeing something so set apart from a reality we can see. On the contrary, this is poverty and thr decimation of working class people everywhere.

Though criticism of the Marcos regime is not explicitly stated, it doesnt have to be. It's implicit in how so many of the people Julio comes across are mistreated (and of course some corrupt cops here and there who make no bones about stealing money and walking away help along the struggles), and of course for the women exploitation in the world of prostitution is exploitation of workers (just happens to be sex). Julio is as close as we can get to a moral compass - while his coworkers go one by one with a Booker he refuses, despite the pressure from the pump, for example - and his visions of the past are what he clings to. He doesnt see any life for himself without her, which makes for a good goal for the story, but is also his weakness - he loves this woman so much that nothing else can change for himself.

If I had a nit to pick some of the flashbacks, while effective when done in sorr of subliminal ways, become frequent to the point of repetition because what else would there be to put in this cut or scene (or it may be the flashbacks themselves don't vary, it's just the same image of Ligaya in the beach). And yet my one criticism is addressed in a way by the time the movie gets to her and the two are reunited. So many scenes, in scene after scene, almost it feels like a pattern deliberately where the idea is, "THIS is what is happening to this overworked/underpaid/tragic person being exploited by the ruling classes," and while it could easily dip into propaganda I dont see this as some negative in that Brocka's passion and intensity as a filmmaker, the commitment to realism, takes away a feeling of "this is an *agenda* as it"s about these people who exist. But all these scenes are really leading up to Ligaya, who was exploitated just about the worst of all - in one long take that seems to last for about seven or eight minutes, she tells her story to Julio in a bedroom, and it's wise to not cut away. We are here listening to her story, and unlike at other points there is no cutting away; we have to picture this for ourselves.

This is a sad and depressing story, but I didnt feel like it is a giant let down to watch because of the anthropological nature of how it's presented and how the melodrama escalates so believably. As Scorsese says in the intro on the criterion disc, this is a movie made for the people.