Ulan

Ulan is not a romance movie. It is about love but it is against love. It is anti-romance. But it is romantic. It was grounded in truth and yet steeped in the supernatural that wound itself so intricately with the reality of the story. The film benefits from such a rich appreciation of magical realism which gave meaning to what otherwise would be a disorienting narrative flow. Magic and folklore are embedded in Maya's childhood, which I think speaks of a need to reconcile what is seemingly a conflicting reality with the stories we are told, and which to us, speaks just as much truth as anything science could explain.

Ulan is a story of love, but it is not simply about romance. Though it injects elements of magic realism, it faithfully mirrors the realities of life - and one such reality is that things do not always go the way we want them to. Maya deals with unpredictability by weaving her own stories and finding solace in the superstitions imparted to her by her grandmother. But as the film unfolds, so does her growth. She learns acceptance - of what she cannot change, of her true strength, of the extent of love that she is capable of giving to others and reserving for herself. So yes, Ulan is a story of love - but more than just romantic love, it highlights the power of self-love.

Bittersweet romance. Ulan shows, not just fantasies, but the reality of finding and losing love.

What I like most in the movie is the nostalgia it brings - the childhood that most Filipino kids have. It built Maya's character through the supertitious beliefs she was taught by her grandmother while growing up. The same beliefs she then held on as she went on with her life - her career and love life.

Maya (Nadine Lustre) is your typical protagonist, but in a good way. She is the girl who craves romance, who is fearless in seeking it, and is brave to accept and move on from the pain it brings. On the other hand, Peter's character (Carlo Aquino) left you with the hardest question to answer - choosing between the calling to serve and the woman you love.

Overall, the movie is pure passion, mystery, and art. The ending is tragic but nonetheless makes you want to fall and stay in love.

My first reaction after watching Ulan was that it was like the critically-acclaimed movie, Pan's Labyrinth. Both movies show the wedding between fantasy and reality within the gaze of a female character, amidst the backdrop of the prevailing social realities. But Ulan is even closer to the heart because it touches on Philippine realties.

Ulan's narrative intertwines Maya's real situation with the mythical world created by the imagination of the young Maya. It shows the innocence, imagination, and hopefulness of a child and the sadness, horrors, and hopelessness of reality as then realized by the older Maya. While the young Maya can easily solve her dilemmas with a simple work of imagination - just transforming those bullies into eggs - the older Maya has to struggle. She has to deal with small paychecks, a sexist superior, and a disastrous lovelife. The great cinematography and smooth transitions between these two narratives have helped in the realization of this poetic vision of the filmmaker. Even with two different narratives, the film is still so coherent that no scene is wasted apart.

What I really liked about the film is how it tackles Philippine social realities. It shows state neglect. It shows how the effects of natural disasters are aggravated by the lack of preventive actions and mitigating measures by the government . That beyond these concepts of forbidden love and tikbalangs, these current realities our the real hindrances in the fulfilment of our dreams and fantasies - just as how this torrential rain, brought about by anthropogenic climate disturbance as lamented by Ulan, the mythical creature, has shattered Maya's hope for a happy ever after. What I don't like though is that in the end, instead of teaching us the importance of volunteerism and collective pursuits is battling these realities, it has somehow disintegrated into mere self-love - see how Maya just held hands with her younger self in the end.

Overall, Ulan is sui generis, a class on its own. It is beyond a fairytale. It is a poem and a piece of art. It pushes the viewers to look beyond its narrative and ponder on the meaning of every scene. It encourages critical thinking, which mainstream films would normally not do in fear of loss of audience and profits. It shows us that our typical romantic movies can be turned into a piece of art where every detail has its symbol and every scene has its interpretation. Above all, it somehow teaches us that amidst the grimness of our reality, we should not give up especially on our ideals.

Ulan offers something fresh and original to the local industry. Weaving elements of magic realism, environmental consciousness, and the quest for a "perfect" love, Ulan brings to the table a beautifully-told spectacle that defies genres and challenges the viewers preconceptions on how stories should be told.

From a very young age, Lustre's character Maya has been exposed to and fascinated about idealized love - that love of her long-gone parents, her superstitious grandmother, the tikbalangs, of a childhood crush. As she grows older and meets (and re-meets) potential romantic partners, she grows weary and cynical about her chances of finding this love she once believed is meant for her. And therein lies the issue - growing up in a household and in a country where love is probably the central narrative, is there really any way real life can measure up to the stories that have captured our collective consciousness?

The film subverts the tropes common in the romance genre, and in doing so leads us to a conclusion that the choice to love and to find love can never be the happy endings in fairy tales and the gimmicky resolutions in rom-coms. Instead, helped by the lens of magic realism and the philosophy of a perpetually melancholic woman, we find that we are simply products of the values and stories that we grow up with; to truly love is to surrender to the forces we cannot control and to create meaning with those that we can.

Love, then, is coming to terms with the fact that disaster can strike anytime; it is also the steps we make to become resilient and reduce the risks associated with acts of nature, as bluntly pointed out by the anthropomorphic typhoon in the film. It is also the choice to not take what we have for granted; accepting the offer to finally eat some thrice-heated adobo with family. It may also be the acceptance and self-love that is often neglected, and forgiving your younger self for creating standards that are impossible to surpass. All this happens in the background of rain - drizzling, pouring, thrashing, sometimes soothing - that creates an atmosphere of familiarity and contentment.

Ulan is one film that should not be missed - it is a story that pushes the boundaries of romance, coming-of-age, and self-love, in a package that showcases the strength of current cinema and providing hope for a future generation that pays close attention to the stories they give importance to.