The Filipino Film Industry Has Much Bigger Problems Than K-Dramas
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Talks of banning Korean dramas have had the Philippines buzzing for about a week now. Some mid-level-action-star-turned-senator's comments have had Filipinos riled up when he said that he was thinking about banning them. How productive. It's with statements like these we again remember that our government officials would rather ban or restrict competition than provide our local industries with proper funding or some much-needed support. Then again, what did we expect from the same kind of people who go about shutting down networks and cutting access to media and information?
That's neither here nor there. Well, maybe a little. It's just a thought. As for K-entertainment, it is the great envy of the world. There are plenty of reasons why, with the overarching one being: they've globalized and capitalized their cultural product (Christ, even BTS got to go to the White House). The Philippines loves its K-Dramas, too. We've seen their Filipino adaptations, too, left and right. Some of which that first come to mind to me are The World of The Married (The Broken Marriage Vow with Jodi Santa Maria), Full House, or My Love from the Star, to name a few. Most of these things trend on Netflix consistently, as well.
Look familiar? Of course they do.
Jinggoy Estrada: *contemplates on banning Korean dramas and shows in the Philippines*
— Rauf Sissay (@rauf_sissay) October 19, 2022
Manny Pacquiao: pic.twitter.com/gbReUjQ1cm
It's not that their stuff is any better. What these conversations reveal is how severely underfunded our industry is. We don't give our directors, cinematographers, writers, actors, and film crews enough credit. They're overworked, underpaid, and, most of the time, unsupported. This K-Dramas-versus-Filipino-content debate isn't supposed to be... a thing, in the first place. They should ideally co-exist in a space where they can both be celebrated and not pitted against each other. But no.
Frankly, it has unfortunately gotten to a point where people forget about the beauty of our own movies, too. Hell, Even Erik Matti once said that K-Dramas would be the downfall of Filipino cinema. I disagree, but he's Erik fucking Matti, and I respect the hell out of that guy too much. But these aren't the real problems.
The daily top ten most viewed on #Netflix shows us how our movies and tv are doomed in the future. K-drama galore. Faux cinderella stories with belofied actors whiter than white. And it’s all about love in the midst of this pandemic. ????????????????
— Erik Matti (@ErikMatti) April 14, 2020
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Kinatay, with Coco Martin, Maria Isabel Lopez, Julio Diaz, and John Regala, takes us into the underworld of Philippine corruption. It's hauntingly vile and beautiful at the same time.
Cinema, while still a relatively young art form here, has gained the admiration of filmmakers around the world for decades, going back to the Philippines' first golden age of cinema in the '50s (I think of Gerardo De Leon and Manuel Conde and Lamberto Avellana) to its second in the '70s (the Brockas and the Bernals or an Eddie Romero come to mind). For instance, at the Cannes: Raymon Red’s short film Anino had been the first Southeast Asian film to win a Palme d’Or back in 2002. Brillante Mendoza's Kinatay got him a Prix de la mise en scène (Best Director Award) in 2009. I'm not even going to go through Oscar or Emmy recognitions here. “The Oscars are not an international film festival. They're very local," a certain award-winning Korean director once noted. That, I agree with.Â
Korean filmmakers, too, have had high regard for Filipino cinema. Cultural Anthropologist Nestor Castro had pointed out that the 2001 Korean film Summertime was an adaptation of Peque Gallaga's 1985 film Scorpio Nights. We can observe here an erotica portrait of the underbelly of the city and sexual repression and objectification. Oscar winner Bong Joon-Ho had previously said that his work had been inspired by Lino Brocka, as well. We can see the parallels in how each tackles class analysis and the poor-and-rich divide. One of my favorite directors ever, Park Chan-wook, has even chosen Filipino actresses to star in his films. Mercedes Cabral in Thirst, what a sight. It's not that we need the validation or anything (we love it though, don't get it twisted). But I say this just to illustrate that Filipino content can be globally competitive.
Bong Joon-Ho once called Lino Brocka a "strong master" of the craft.
Scorpio Nights (1985) and Summertime (2001) posters.
It's more about the overall quality and subject matter that draws people in, really. Of course, there's something to be said about the Filipino viewers of today, too. Filipino pop culture shouldn't automatically be baduy, you guys. I know a lot of people who treat it that way and it's sad. But it is what it is. Most of the time there's this cultural malaise brought about by western-centric ideals. Such is the case with our post-colonial burden, I suppose.
Plus, Filipino classics are hard to come by. Because of literacy, distribution, and accessibility issues, most Filipinos don't get to view Filipino-made films that much apart from limited streaming platforms (which reminds me, Oro, Plata, Mata is on Netflix now, too, by the way). They don't exactly pop up on streaming services too often. We at least have films like Pamilya Ordinaryo, Kalel, 15, and Iska on Netflix (please give us Manila by Night, for crying out loud). Anyway, all this is just to say that we should decolonize our pop culture, folks. Of course, I just had to squeeze in a public service announcement thing here, too.
All this just brings me to the main point of this thing I wrote: Korean pop culture isn't ruining Filipino content or art forms. With issues like these, we are only reminded of the state of our own watered-down culture. The issue with that senator guy's K-Drama ban threat is more about how we continue to fail our local industries. We should take this as an opportunity to reflect on the state of our own products. It shows: filmmakers not getting enough credit, movies with way-too-small of a budget, public perception, politicians in budget hearings making cheap assertions. If we want to consume and produce more great local content, we must demand more. But of all things, we have to believe in our own stuff. A common denominator I see is the lack of trust from top to bottom. That, I would say, is a much bigger problem than watching Lee Min Ho or Song Hye Kyo.
