“Handa na ba ang mga Pilipinong
marinig ang katotohanan nang hindi napipikon?” (Or in modern words, “Are the
Filipinos ready to hear the truth without getting triggered?”)
That is the question Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral, the sequel to Heneral Luna, dares to ask. And this movie will definitely rub people the
wrong way, as it kind of attacks the sense of “Pinoy
pride” that us Filipinos typically hold on to in varying degrees.
Like its predecessor, Goyo is cynical but thought-provoking,
dropping unflattering truth bombs about the inherent brokenness of Filipino
culture and politics. It posits convincingly
that the present character flaws that have prevented us from improving as a
nation are shockingly the very same character flaws that have hindered the
Filipinos in the past. This movie
tackles a multitude of themes in relation to this, but in the forefront is hero worship.
Now, the placing of the people we
admire at a pedestal is a very human thing.
Human beings are simply wired that way. But this is probably more true with
Filipinos. We can observe this from how much
our text books (and that 90’s history kid’s show Bayani) lionize our historical heroes, exaggerating their feats and
rationalizing their flaws in the process, to how our Facebook news feed is
filled with posts from friends that gush about whoever present political figure
they support, treating every move he or she makes as if it’s a part of a master
plan of a calculating genius while rapidly defending him or her against any form
of criticism as if he or she is infallible.
We are a people that tend to fully invest our hopes on idols or saviors, and this usually leads to our undoing. Would-be saviors exploit our gullibility, our desire for an easy way out, and we fall for their shallow promises. Once they are in power, they usually only make things worse. Worse, because of our adoration to these idols, we become susceptible of turning a blind eye when they start committing injustices. Thus, Filipino-style hero worship can yield dangerous outcomes.
By focusing on Gregorio del Pilar, one of our most celebrated national heroes, the movie aims to make the audience realize this.
We are a people that tend to fully invest our hopes on idols or saviors, and this usually leads to our undoing. Would-be saviors exploit our gullibility, our desire for an easy way out, and we fall for their shallow promises. Once they are in power, they usually only make things worse. Worse, because of our adoration to these idols, we become susceptible of turning a blind eye when they start committing injustices. Thus, Filipino-style hero worship can yield dangerous outcomes.
By focusing on Gregorio del Pilar, one of our most celebrated national heroes, the movie aims to make the audience realize this.
I remember that, at one point
when I was a kid, del Pilar was my most favorite Filipino hero. The idea of a youngster being a general mightily appealed to me. History
classes have painted the Battle of Tirad Pass as a glorious last stand, where
he held off American forces despite being vastly outnumbered, a la 300, and that he fought so gallantly
that he earned the respect of his American opponents.
The movie shatters these notions.
The movie shatters these notions.
Goyo paints its eponymous character (played magnificently by Paulo
Avelino) as seemingly well-meaning at parts, but nonetheless succumbs to the vanities
of youth. He’s a notorious flirt, and
has grown a bit arrogant due to his popularity.
He might have had some talents as a military man, but his rise to the
top is probably more due to nepotism than actual merits. At the same time, he’s also wrestling with
inner demons brought by a combination of PTSD symptoms and attacks of conscience due to ethically questionable acts he has done out of his devotion to the president (again, the hazards of hero worship are explored in this film).
All these make it look like that
his character arc involves ultimately putting him in the position where he can
get the chance to live up to the venerable reputation that has been given
him. But staying true to its “deromanticizing heroes”
motif, just when he’s seemingly about to redeem himself, he’s
dispatched in the most unceremonious manner, which is equally ballsy, brilliant,
and even morbidly funny, but nevertheless,
very fitting of the narrative.
All in all, I think I love Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral more than Heneral Luna. I feel that it’s more cerebral, nuanced, penetrating, and well-crafted. It’s a masterpiece
historical film that may not be fully historical (no historical film ever is),
but at least adheres to the real spirit of studying history. It’s not to fan misguided national or
cultural pride – especially when, in the case of us Filipinos, this could be
revealed to have shaky foundations in the end as it’s often drawn from
romanticized or entirely fabricated version of a historical narrative. Rather, it is a key to understand the present,
and a tool that will help us address the relevant issues that we currently
face, especially when we humbly choose to recognize the mistakes of the past
and learn from it. As a paraphrased
George Santayana quote goes, “Those who don’t learn from history are doomed to
repeat it.”
Post-script:
It looks like that this film trilogy
– whose upcoming final installment will feature Manuel L. Quezon (as established by the fantastic mid-credits scene) – has an
overarching arc for Emilio Aguinaldo (played by Mon Confiado), who is depicted in these movies as the self-serving
“trapo” he really was. I applaud. If nothing else, this trilogy should put to
rest the idea that he was a hero. The next
movie will probably put the final nail on the coffin, as it could likely show the
episode in his life where he collaborated with Japanese invaders.
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