Tatarin

Maybe lot of Filipino viewers hate Edu Manzano with his sadistic hosting of the Philippine's version of The Weakest Link that's why this movie flop! It's Edu Manzano's first movie since hosting the localized version of the Weakest Link where he insulted more than a hundred of participants. The trailer of this movie, with an authorized usage of Drowning Pool's Bodies as background, was heavily rotated during The Weakest Link hour at IBC-13.

This movie could be the WEAKEST among the entries in the 2001 Metro Manila Film Festival, despite it's a Viva Films production. With Dina Bonnevie, Rica Peralejo and lot of sexy stars in the cast, the movie could have been the top crowd-drawer among the male adult viewers. But sad to say, the movie was a loser when it was shown. I could not remember that this movie got any award in the 2001 MMFF. Edu was humbled by Cesar Montano, Dina was a peanut to a newcomer named Assunta de Rossi, a bold actress. This could be a classic since it was based on a Nick Joaquin's novel and directed by Tikoy Aguiluz. But there's nothing here that can qualify this movie as a soon-to-be classic. Ms. Peralejo's breast exposure was nothing. Ms. Bonnevie was too old to do a sexy role. Ms. Taylor's timid acting was a waste. Ms. Jaca's role is forgettable. In short, this movie is a trash.

Before anything else, it should be made clear that this review was made comparing the film to the original text which it was based on.

The Summer Solstice, a short narrative by Nick Joaquin is genius and powerful, clearly a timeless masterpiece inspired by the greatest of muses. But sad to say, the film adaptation of the short story entitled, Tatarin is seriously lacking in depth and quality which makes it easily forgettable. From unforgettable to forgettable. This was how much the film adaptation ruined the narrative. Nick Joaquin's story was effective in portraying a eulogy to a man-driven, pseudo-American Philippine society, while its film adaptation directed by Amable Aguiliz was confusing. Despite being backed by Viva Films, one of the major production machines to ever grace Philippine cinema, the film still succeeds to end up a miserable undertaking, light years away from being a timeless classic that Nick Joaquin's story is.

Tatarin was an entry to the 2001 Metro Manila Film Festival but to my knowledge it failed to bag a major award in the event. And rightfully so. For starters, the film was filled with a roster of newcomers to the silver screen, most of them were sexy stars. I have nothing against neophyte actors, actresses or sexy stars but putting them in a material possessing enormous potential was not a very good idea as proved by the finished product. Much of the film's lackluster acting should be attributed to them. I think the producers and the director should have chosen from a pool of seasoned actors and actresses in the country. But then again, choosing an actor also depends on the roles available. The scriptwriters and the director added and modified some characters from the original text which made it difficult to cast veterans. One such example can be seen in the Moretas' house aids. In the original text, Amada was not a young vixen that Rica Paralejo is.

Then again, the director and his crew always have the freedom to modify the original narrative whenever they deem it necessary. It is only an adaptation after all. Of course the next question would be: was the particular change necessary? This is where it gets tricky and contentious. This also serves as an argument supporting my comparison of the short story and its adaptation.

I really do not think that transforming Amada and the rest of the Moretas' house helpers into sexy, young, erection inspirations was done to better the original text. If someone watches the film without reading the text and sees the scene wherein Guido asks Lupeng about Amada, he or she would likely think that it is only natural for Guido or any man to be enchanted by Amada since she was portrayed by a woman in her mid-twenties with a voluptuous body. But credit should also be given to the fact that Amada was a Tadtarin that day. This is what I mean when I say that the film adaptation was confusing.

On the other hand, Amada as written in The Summer Solstice was stout and elderly. Thus when Guido asks Lupeng about her it was clearer that her enthralling appeal was because she was a Tadtarin. Why then was Amada modified for the adaptation? An endless number of answers or opinions might surface but I feel that this has something to do with the cast of breast-baring sexy stars who comprise much of the Moretas' household.

The film was not made for art's sake. It was made to sell. And the moderate sexual content included in the film, enough to garner it a R-18 rating by the way, proves just how much it depends on sex to sell tickets.

FAMILIAR TERRITORY by Lito B. Zulueta, Published in Philippine Daily Inquirer, January 7, 2002

Some of the currency of public affairs journalism that flavors "Hubog" and "Bagong Buwan" is used to some ironic effect in the period drama "Tatarin," Tikoy Aguiluz's filmization of Nick Joaquin's short story "Summer Solstice" and play of the same title. Aguiluz really returns to familiar territory here: he achieved renown in the 1970s when his short film on the Mt. Banahaw rituals won an international prize. In fact, "Tatarin" achieves a mesmerizing effect in the mountain ritual parts that provide the viewers the special feel of religion with their strange brew of mysticism and pre-literate hysteria.

Aguiluz's documentary flair is used to remarkable effect here. If he's guilty of embellishment and sensationalism, as in the sex scenes, he can be forgiven because he portrays the battle of the sexes, resurgent matriarchy, male insecurity, the clash between the old and modernity-interweaving themes in Joaquin's fiction and drama-with the detachment of a scientist or even a journalist. Among the films of the Metro Manila Film Festival 2001, "Tatarin" is really the most realized, without even a mere tokenism to global cinema. It is the movie that is most faithful to its material and vision.

HALO-HALO CULTURE AND PAGAN RITES Set in the 1920s, the film tells the story of a couple caught in the juxtaposition of Catholic/Hispanic value systems and the pagan rituals that existed long before Magellan set sight on Cebu. The Tatarin is a uniquely Filipino version of a druidic rite. During this surreal ritual, which takes place during the feast day of St. John the Baptist, normally repressed women transform themselves into "Tatarin" - enchantresses and witches. They gather together to worship the centuries-old balete tree, which sets them totally free from inhibitions, empowering them to dance erotically while the men (who normally per macho Hispanic tradition completely dominate them) watch helplessly. Symbolically, this suggests a theme of balance, with man as Sun and woman as Moon - and about the imbalance brought about by the externally imposed values of the West. The ritual reflects, like many pagan rites, the vital importance of maintaining balance between heaven and earth, an essential balance for ensuring healthy lives, avoiding devastating wars, and raising good children. When things get out of balance, terrible things happen. In pre-Western Philippines, the Sun (male) represented the Supreme God (known by Kabunian and other names). But equally important was the feminine moon, wife of the sun. The cycle of sun and moon ensured balance, much as yin and yang do in other Asian traditions. These dichotomies are captured elegantly in Tatarin, which has as one of its primary themes an oppressive heat symbolizing elemental passions always on the verge of exploding. The movie has many images of the sun boiling in the day and the moon burning hotly during the night. There is a great deal of repressed libido here, captured in the Filipino term libog, which basically means the state of being horny. Paeng, the masculine and aloof husband (played by Edu), sees the ritual as silly and old-fashioned, suitable only for the indios. His wife, played by by Dina Bonnevie, embraces the ritual as a long-sought after channel for self-expression (and orgiastic release), something totally foreign to Catholicism and the repressed sexuality it brought with it. Ultimately, Paeng ends up crawling in the dust in front of his wife, ready to kiss her feet now that she has finally asserted herself as a woman. Aside on libog: When asked to interpret his work, Joaquin reportedly replied: "It's all about libog, isn't it?" To illustrate the use of the term, consider the following three versions of the phrase "you're making me horny": Tagalog: Nalilibugan ako sa iyo; (2) Taglish: You're making me libog naman; (3) English (sixties version): Why don't we do it in the road?

Tatarin is nothing compared to Nick Joaquin's Summer Solstice. Dina Bonnevie is dull and lifeless, nothing like the original Doña Lupeng, who jumps out of the page with an almost contemptuous sort of passion. Edu Manzano could have been replaced with any other actor who can pull of a gruff, patriarchal frown. Additional story lines are added to make the plot more complex, but only serves to prolong an already tedious movie. Instead of exploring the magic of the Summer Solstice, the film rides on the heaving bosoms of Rica Peralejo and Patricia Javier, Raymond Bagatsing's buttocks, and incessant moaning and groaning of an entire horde of women.