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It is not uncommon to see justice systems that are flawed—in other words, such systems that don’t deliver their promises of justice.

This is what The Thin Blue Line is about. A certain Randall Adams was wrongfully convicted for the murder of a police officer, to the point of him being on death row. Only to find out years later that it was actually his companion during that incident, David Harris, who committed the actual killing.

That is pretty much what the film is all about, and everything in between is comprised of talking-heads interviews, a staple of documentaries. And the participants seem to break the fourth wall by looking directly at the camera in some instances. But perhaps interestingly, the documentary’s main unique feature has got to be the numerous staged re-enactments of the happenings according to the different testimonies from their respective accounts.

An ideal documentary does not see the need for reconstructions of the actual events, for it relies on the accounts of the participants and the subjects. But Errol Morris decided to break documentary conventions and proceed with it anyway. Who knows, it was going to be his style of delivering testimonies—the recreations may actually help to visualize how events, such as the murder in this subject matter, unfolded.

And perhaps thanks to Errol Morris who committed himself to making this film with thorough investigation, interviewing the personalities that matter here, Randall Adams managed to be discharged from prison, clearing him of accusations and successfully maintained his innocence, while further exploration of the case finds David Harris rightfully guilty of the crime.

Nostalgia de la Luz. In English, “Nostalgia for the Light”.

Looking back at the past for truth. Reminiscing at what had happened to get clues on what is bound. Learning from history to enlighten the future.

This is the film’s main premise as astronomers try to look at earth’s origins amidst the stars, as well as bereaved relatives of the brutal dictatorship of Augusto Pinochet in 1970s Chile. In this film, astronomy and geology are set on a seemingly similar quest of discovering certain origins.

Most women would find themselves lucky during the harsh regime as they were less likely to become victims of Pinochet’s political persecution, unfortunately they were regarded in Chilean society as “lepers”, all for being witnesses of numerous events during the tumultuous regime, that Chileans refuse to acknowledge the truth about the happenings in the past, thanks to brainwashing and propaganda by the government.

And it’s also ironic and unfortunate how Chile’s history is accessible to the people from outside the nation, yet they themselves have no knowledge whatsoever of their history, let alone Pinochet’s dictatorship.

One might think why astronomy and geology are the subjects of this documentary. Both are branches of science that are, as mentioned earlier, in the search for the past, hence the nostalgia in the film’s title. Until the viewer gets to the end of the film when he/she realizes that, after the narrator states this scientific fact that the chemical element calcium is found in human bones as well as in stars and celestial objects, he/she realizes that those comparisons just make sense, despite being wildly different fields to which the experts share likewise wildly different stories. And studying the formation of celestial bodies as well as unearthing bodies buried beneath the ground during the dictatorship sheds light to their respective futures.

A Thousand Cuts. And still going strong. Fearless. Committed.

That is the state of Philippine news site Rappler and especially its founder, veteran journalist Maria Ressa, amidst numerous attacks and accusations by current president Rodrigo Duterte for telling “lies”, especially on the controversial war on drugs, the number one most controversial agenda of the administration.

Duterte has been likewise accused for being “the biggest threat to Philippine journalism”, as he bad-mouths news organizations and journalists that are critical of him, among the most being Rappler, that dreaded his presidency ever since he sat in office back in 2016. Since then, Rappler has committed to providing investigative and thorough journalism regarding his war on drugs, a program that is said to be the president’s “biggest human rights violation” as it has so far claimed thousands and thousands of lives, including innocent ones, even minors.

Duterte’s arrogance against the media is highly emphasized during an event where he bluntly verbally attacks Pia Ranada and the media company where she works for labeling Rappler as a “fake news site” and other false accusations, to the point where, just because Duterte, as a president, feels entitled to absolute power, even bans Rappler from Malacańang coverage.

And there’s this Mocha Uson, a “sexy” entertainer who is likewise a die-hard follower of Duterte, who spreads B.S. propaganda about the current government who caters to her fellow DDS, where a lot of the community believe in her. And with so much more fake news sites dedicated to Duterte proliferating, quality journalism is under threat.

Just last year, on May 2020, Duterte had not renewed the franchise of ABS-CBN, leading to the network’s shut-down off air, seen as one of the president’s most disrespectful acts towards the media so far. His government likewise filed numerous cases against Rappler CEO Maria Ressa for alleged “cyberlibel”, which the journalist insists that she never commited such malicious act. Their only commitment to the Filipinos was to deliver quality in-depth journalism and uncover the truth, especially on the administration’s drug war.

The fact that Ressa has been acclaimed by numerous organizations worldwide for fearless journalism and her bravery amidst relentless attacks by the government, just shows how unfazed Ressa is everytime she and her news organization faces threats and bullying by the regime and its die-hard disciples, committing to citizens a truthful, fearless journalism.

And until now, Rappler is still going strong and is still continually critical of Duterte and his government, showing no B.S. in their views and editorials. Until Duterte ends his term in 2022 and the next sitting president brings back true democracy and press freedom, will such state here in the Philippines still be among the worst in the world.

And here, really, is to hoping that a non-ally of the wannabe dictator gets to replace him next year, one who respects press freedom and to ensure that a truly clean government is to be delivered to the people, and bring back the quality of democracy reminiscent of 1986.

Imagine following your long-term dreams and being able to achieve it in some sort.

One will find themselves saying “sana all” upon seeing Jazz In Love, a slice of the life of a certain Jazz, a boy hailing from Malita, Davao del Sur (now part of Davao Occidental), a rural area some three hours away from Davao City.

At the beginning of the documentary, Jazz is seen waiting for his German language test results, one of the requirements for migration to Germany to which he, along with his other friends, passes. While footage of those are shown, a voiceover gets to grab the attention of viewers: Jazz in a sweet conversation with his German boyfriend, Theodor. And he really seems to be thrilled in their relationship. He outlines his plans when he gets to Germany and with them being together, and all that.

As everyone probably knows, Jazz met Theodor online. Jazz himself says of it in the film. Then as the film goes, Jazz shares his experiences with his friends about his online dating life, the learning of the German language, etc. Then perhaps the most “sana all” part of the film is when Theodor tells Jazz that he comes to Davao, to which Jazz excites and thrills, takes a bus trip to the city, waits for Theodor at the airport, and boom, there Theodor is, to which Jazz gets elated to the maximum, that they finally get to see each other in person. That must be so fulfilling on the side of Jazz where he unlocks this achievement of meeting his foreign boyfriend from online, even before Jazz is able to get to Germany, a achievement he has yet to unlock. And as expected, they go on dates, dates, and dates. The People’s Park, the Shrine Hills, the Kadayawan Festival… and yes, Jazz’s hometown in Malita, where a grand birthday celebration abounds.

But it’s not all unicorns and rainbows, though. As in this blog’s title, it’s more than just a love story. Worth considering that Jazz is clearly one of millions of members of the LGBTQIA+ community, prejudices against them are, unfortunately, expected and unavoided. Especially since he lives in a rural area, such areas are usually considered to be traditional in nature, and knowing the conservativeness of the Church in the Philippines, it doesn’t get any better. A pastor on the radio even quotes that according to the law of man and the law of God, “only man and woman can be one”, “same-sex marriage is wrong”, and that “we have to keep our own principles…we can’t just imitate everything”. And in the context of pastors, one pastor even interrogates Jazz and his friends about being gay, to which his friends half-heartedly joke about them being straight men, that they need to “repent”, and that Jazz also jokingly tells one of his gay friends to just “kill yourself” for being such. They jokingly tell the pastor that they “regret” being gay. While they seem to have good vibes during that scene, it must be disheartening to them deep inside.

However, there is a catch: despite Jazz being situated in a rural place, he is so fortunate to have a community accepting of gays, even his own family. For as long as Theodor lives up to his promise of getting Jazz a decent job when the time comes that the boyfriends live together in Germany. And yes, Theodor is warmly welcomed by Jazz’s community in the latter’s birthday celebration.

But the film being “more than just a love story” doesn’t end there. Some obstacle enters in the way of their relationship. They immediately encounter some sort of “tampuhan”, and they seem to not be in good terms with each other. The ending is quite of a cliffhanger as the end titles only tell of their lives post-movie, yet stating that they are still together. The question is, almost a decade on, how have they fared?

This film aims to strengthen representation of the LGBTQIA+ community in film, especially of the documentary genre, as well as serving as a constant reminder that love is not all unicorns and rainbows, that both must find ways to overcome certain obstacles together as a couple.

Salesman chronicles the mission that four men are to undertake: travel long distances and sell Bibles on a door-to-door basis. It may seem uncanny to know of, but there existed such venture decades ago. The company where the salesmen work for hopes that citizens get to be “evangelized” for each purchase of the Bible from their traveling salesmen.

This documentary somehow shows the viewers about the church’s involvement in the enterprise of selling such holy articles which the church aims to “spread God’s word” to their customers while earning money from bible sales. While there is not any wrong intention here, what’s concerning is that people shouldn’t just be forced to buy such item especially if such person isn’t aligned with the religion or just doesn’t show any interest at all, and for the salespersons’ part, they should also not urge customers who don’t want to buy such item unless they want to, which should explain why Paul Brennan, the star of the show, gets so frustrated in his poor sales because most of his customers don’t buy. He, along with his other colleagues, start optimistic but as the flow of the story goes, poor sales performance abounds, especially on Paul’s side. He particularly vents out his frustrations near the end of the film where he seems to give up of the venture by briskly walking to his car, angrily removing his blazer and putting it, along with the bag, inside the car, and quickly driving off.

The general theme of the film portrays how very driven to capitalism Americans are, to the point of a company dedicated to bible-selling. But the catch is that there are chances that bibles don’t sell well as expected; for one, in the case of what’s shown in the film, the bibles were expensive—like a luxurious item of some sort. The high price tags of the bibles alone can be one factor of sales to not perform well. Unless their target market were high-class religious Christians, it did not turn out to be the case. Most of the places where the salesmen have been selling those books of books house-to-house were comprised of low-to-middle class people, another factor for poor sales. Some people do not identify themselves as Christians, some just simply decline and are not interested, yet another driving factor.

Roughly in the first half of the film, at a Chicago sales meeting wherein God’s name was invoked and the salesmen were being told that it was their fault if the sales turned out to be a flop, the blame shouldn’t entirely be put onto them considering the factors stated above, and for some other reasons. After all, the “Father’s business” of selling Bibles remains strong, as Paul states in the beginning of the film that such piece of literature is the world’s best-selling book.

Some five decades on, and it is apparent that door-to-door salesmen have gone for so, so long, especially those who sell bibles. As it should be. If a truly religious person wants to evangelize and is willing to purchase one, it’s his/her free will. After all, Bible applications for smartphones and other electronic gadgets are available for download online, and the best part is that it’s free. One would wonder why the occupation of a bible salesman would still be up for grabs if it still were to exist in this day and age.

Indeed, the occupation that Paul and his colleagues undertook back in the 1960s may seem “easy” on paper, unless one gets to deeply know the struggles that bible salesmen of the past had to face, again considering numerous factors. That was their way of living. “Pangkabuhayan”, in Filipino terms. Their job was risky. Risky in the sense that it was akin to winning a casino bet: it felt like by chance. It was a feeling of satisfaction on their side when they were able to sell a luxuriously-priced consumer-level religious item since it added up to the quota that they had to achieve in a specific amount of time.

A big congratulations to Paul the Badger, Charles the Gipper, James the Rabbit, and Raymond the Bull for enduring the struggles brought by their source of income during that time.

Rithy delivered his narratives through the aesthetics he used in the film. And this is where he and his work really stands out.

Rithy took a different from usual approach in presenting this documentary. Here he used miniature-scale dioramas of the happenings in Cambodia during the tumultuous Pol Pot regime; the clay figurines were done by a certain sculptor named Sarith Mang. Clay figurines were used to recreate the happenings where his childhood was involved, believed to be the “missing picture”. These sequences helped to visualize Rithy’s experiences prior to and during the Pol Pot regime as most films and photographs before the 1975 takeover of the Communists—that is, all forms of documentation—were seized and ruined, and since then people’s cameras were destroyed, and that only people working to glorify the Communist regime were allowed to handle cameras, inciting propaganda by making it seem as if Cambodians were happy to be working like slaves, as well as of child labor.

Rithy also took archival footage from the time the Communists took over the government, and in some scenes he used superimposition of images to make the colored clay figurines seem mixed with the actual monochrome footage, implying that Rithy wished the people were still alive had they survived. He was also creative in the superimposition of the clay figurines representing his siblings, who are shown flying through space whom he lost during the regime, a scene that moved me, personally. Others should likewise be moved by the next-level creativity showcased in the film.

To further support the statement above regarding his use of miniature-scale clay recreations, such techniques can really be effective, especially when done right, and that things and elements were rightfully represented. The younger generations, such as the Millennials, Generation Z, and Generation Alpha, tend to embrace relatively new ways of delivering a narrative aesthetic, and one of them includes that of clay figures. We’ve seen clay stop-motion animations for at least 20 years now, and although the film did not necessarily use stop-motion animation at all, at least the creativity exists there. Younger people really tend to explore new creative ideas, with the realization that telling a story through motion pictures is not exclusive to just re-enactment or live action. And with modernized, advanced professional video editing software, superimpositions that tell stories to another level are easier and should find relevance in today’s age of cinema.

All forms of media, which include films, most particularly documentaries, are artifacts to whatever form of society—be it personal, family, a particular group or organization, and even as big as a nation or even the whole world itself. Take films as a record of a particular event in a society, and eventually it will become a remnant of the past. People of the future get to see what life used to be like—mannerisms, buildings, clothing, food, surroundings, landscapes, cars, and everything else that changes over time.

In this context, talking about a film’s contribution and its role in a nation’s memory, one gets to see the differences between the past and the present in ways that matter to a nation—the ups and downs of societies, the government and politics, the economic standing, the variety of trends, among others. It is also through film, images, and other forms of media where one can get to know a nation’s history and, by analyzing the trends that took place between the past and present, acknowledge the successes and learn from pitfalls. Film is reflective of a particular society and how it will transform the nation for the years to come.

If there is anything that the film The Missing Picture teaches us, it is [a] to always, always, and always, keep documents, records, photographs, videographs, and all other kinds of proof that likewise serve as a remembrance of any topic or subject matter; [b] to get creative if for any unfortunate reason all those files were deleted for good, as a result of some kind of hardware/software failure, if one wishes to recall and share the past; and [c] to denounce any kind of organization, from a small group to large-scale politics, that disrespects record-keeping and wishes to make some “panakip-butas” by erasing all past records and create misleading propaganda that a particular group or society seems to be living a utopia, when in reality they are living in a dystopia.

Documentation is a hugely fundamental right, and it should be well-practiced and preserved for future generations to look back on and learn from.

This documentary film talks about the pet cemetery business owned by Floyd McClure, nicknamed “Mac”, after a Model A vehicle struck his pet collie, killing it, as he narrates. Ever since that incident, he believes that pet animals deserve a proper burial just as much as human beings do. That becomes the film’s inciting incident eventually leading to pet owners who held their furry friends dear to them—like a son or daughter would—who would eventually pass away.

​The documentary is of a participatory mode as almost the entirety of the film is narrative, taken from the accounts of the interviewees who want to have their own pet graveyards as well, those who have grieving experiences of their beloved animals who died and were buried to their graves—as seen in one example where a couple witness to bury their crossbred dog named Caesar, and that of Danny sharing a slice of his life being a college student who started out well but eventually became a party person, his failed love life, and his being a music composer.

​The dramaturgy that makes this documentary is through the narratives of the interviewees telling of their experiences—their interviews, of which most were shots of them directly looking at the camera as if they were actually talking to their audience through the camera—which make up most of the film’s screen time. 

​One subtext involves that of Philip showing off his trophies in his office just to impress the employees, of which he says that he went from a salesman to a salesman-ager. Through that play on his words, he covers up his “real fear” as he attempts to memorize the routes where the vets are located to pick up the bodies of the dead animals (Ebert, R. 1997), a rather not-so-good reality of him.

​Another subtext involves this time of Philip’s brother, Danny, of which after finishing his degree in Business Administration, his life becomes pitiful as he didn’t manage to find a decent job right away. He compensates for his loneliness by watching a lot of television and, one of his hobbies, playing guitar at a very loud volume and writing songs. A scene shows him that after he says of his way to combat his loneliness, he is seen sitting on his couch on the left of the frame, with a jukebox playing his songs onto the right of it, seemingly in his living room.

​Lastly, at the end of the film, that of animal figurines that at first glance seem like their frozen real-life counterparts. That sequence is somehow of a “in memoriam” to the animals, regardless of what species, that were deeply held dear by their human masters.

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REFERENCE

Gates of Heaven movie review and film summary (1978): Roger Ebert. (1997, November 9). Retrieved March 08, 2021, from https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-gates-of-heaven-1978

Sans Soleil is a documentary that may not seem like such—spoiler alert: no talking heads, no interviews at all. In other words, this is not a participatory one.

Sans Soleil is a poetic one, in that the narrative is based on a letter being read by a female narrator, sent by a particular Sandor Krasna, said to be an alter ego for the director Chris Marker (Berardinelli). The narrative does not even follow a storyline.

Rather, it is a travelogue of the places where Marker has been to. Tons of footage are seen, shot from different places, but among those that stand out the most are from an African country Guinea-Bissau, and Japan.

And to go further deeper, the film shows much more of Japan, especially in the capital Tokyo, where the narrator feels some sort of fascination towards the country and its people, their culture, the advancement in technology as portrayed by arcade video games and a life-sized android of the late US President John Kennedy.

Where the film stands out is on its use of images. They may have been randomly thought of, but one can see the creativity that has been put onto them. One can point out the “abstractness” and the “bizarreness” of the film thanks to some weird electronic music paired with moving images that, while based on stock footage, are highly edited to make it look as if it was an animated painting.

Viewers can also see Japan’s fascination with cats, wherein they have those white cat figurines with their right paws raised, although unlike the Chinese ones in which they are colored gold and the right paw moves back and forth, it is seen that the ones in Japan are of one piece, that they are made of porcelain; a big cat figurine even had its raised paw gone. There is even a cemetery dedicated to cats, even a cat “God” where bereaved owners of the deceased cats buried there can pray and offer flowers to.

Another instance of Japanese looking up to an animal is that of a dog named Hachiko, who waited years and years for its owner to return, who never did, as he already died. Hachiko’s immense loyalty to its owner has awed the Japanese to the point that a statue dedicated to the dog had been built.

In the subject of Japanese technology, the narrator tells of the “inseparable philosophy of our time” which is in the wildly popular game Pac-Man. She further describes the titular character being the “most perfect graphic metaphor of man’s fate”, and that “he puts into true perspective the balance of power between the individual and the environment”. As everyone is aware of, Pac-Man is a classic chase-in-a-maze game where players are to control Pac-Man, the playable yellow character, within the maze, eating all the dots to gain points to get to the next level, and avoid hitting or being chased by ghosts. The narrator relates the video game to human life in a way that while we are pursuing our goals (the “individual”, the Pac-Man), external factors are trying to stop us as well (the “environment”, the ghosts).

Near the end of the film, the narrator wonders how people “remember things who don’t film, photograph, and tape”, further pondering how mankind has “managed to remember” despite not having any visual or written record; here it essentially highlights the essence of documentation and documentary in general—to keep material that will be remembered in the future when one wants to look back at a particular event or experience.

Sans Soleil is documentary at its finest: a sense of personality evoked by images. A first-person form of documentary, should we say.

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REFERENCE

Berardinelli, James. “Sans Soleil.” Reelviews Movie Reviews, 23 Oct. 1983, http://www.reelviews.net/reelviews/sans-soleil.

The film narrates of director Ari Folman’s experiences during the war in Lebanon set in the 80’s, but the thing is, he does not remember most of them as he served the military at a rather young age of 19. As such, he interviews his fellow veterans in the war and visualizes their experiences into a rather interesting technique not very common in documentaries, which is through animation.

Although we usually associate animation with films or series that portray a rather soft or child-friendly theme, the animations done in this film showcase otherwise. The film is rated R for such explicit disturbing themes of massacre and genocide that happened during the war (particularly at the end where it, unfiltered, shows newsreel footage of dead bodies piled up and survivors sobbing and weeping over them), cartoon violence as scenes show of killing people with blood present, and most of all, which stands out to me among all scenes, the graphic sequence of pornography on a TV where viewers of the film watch it as if on an actual pornographic site. One can only imagine how more impactful this film can be if such explicit themes were done in live-action.

​According to Folman in an interview with Terry Gross in his talk show Fresh Air, the film is “totally autobiographical”, that “all the things that are told in the film are true in the manner, as much as documentary filmmaking can be true or objective”, and with regards to animation, in Folman’s opinion, “it doesn’t make it less true in my mind”, he says. The director also adds that in animation, it is “the only way to go from one dimension to another, from dreams to reality”, pertaining to Gross’s question if the film could have been done in any other way.

​This documentary film is a combination of expository, participatory, and most of all, performative modes. It is expository, in that it makes use of illustrations and animations and that the filmmaker seeks to know what happened during the Lebanon War with the help of his close friends and fellow comrades who served during the war. It is participatory as Folman himself engages with his interviewees in conversation about their experiences, as shown through their animated selves. But above all, it is a performative one for the most part, as the director involves himself fully in this documentary—that is, being a war veteran, he gets to tell his story although with the help of the personalities whom he interviews. Folman gives viewers a perspective of “what it’s like to be there” on a world, a culture or an event in history (Biesterfeld, P.).

​The movie’s title, Waltz with Bashir, provides a subtext in itself. It refers to this very scene roughly one hour in the film wherein Shmuel Frenkel, one of the soldiers of whom the director Folman interviews, grabs another soldier’s machine gun and circles around while firing it continuously amid enemy forces’ bullets coming from all directions; as he fires the gun twirling around, the bullets likewise hit the humongous image of Bashir Gemayel as well as other images of him plastered everywhere. The waltz likewise alludes to the Israelis’ relationship with the Christians, their allies, “that was kind of a dance we did with them that ended up in a very tragic way,” according to Folman in an interview with Gross.

​The film affects me in a way that such events can just be forgotten if one decides to dissociate him/herself from what happened, even in impactful and otherwise traumatic scenarios. But eventually, at some point in life, one will get to try to remember such events and become curious about a particular happening by asking some people to visualize from memory what they have remembered, as the human mind, by nature, is not capable of visualizing each and every single detail of the past, and that visions may just be hallucinations, as Folman’s therapist friend has said. The film shows how memory can distort the truth (Ansen, D.).

REFERENCES

Ansen, D. (2010, March 13). “Waltz with Bashir” review. Retrieved March 01, 2021, from https://www.newsweek.com/waltz-bashir-review-84789

Biesterfeld, P. (2020, November 05). The six primary types of documentaries. Retrieved March 01, 2021, from https://www.videomaker.com/article/c06/18423-six-primary-styles-of-documentary-production

Dancing with Memory, massacre in ‘bashir’. (2008, December 23). Retrieved March 01, 2021, from https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98634515

The documentary features some people of Danao being involved in the manufacturing of firearms, specifically one-handed guns. They narrate their experiences on their venture.

The film employs a lot of close-up shots particularly on the main subject of this documentary, the guns themselves. One can see how nearly accurate their manufacturing is, like how they nail the shape and look of the gun, whether it be the pistol, revolver, Tec-9, and others. But, of course, only real gun enthusiasts can really spot the differences in especially small details between a real kind of firearm and those made by the Danaoans. Although I am no gun enthusiast myself at all, I can somehow distinguish. Not to offend the manongs behind the manufacturing of those guns shown in the film but in terms of quality, they don’t compare well with those manufactured in, say, Germany, by well-known companies that really specialize in firearm making and other related paraphernalia—but it should be expected anyways, as we all know, the familiar concept of cheap versus expensive. Not to mention the illegality of the manongs doing the gun manufacturing without any official permit or license.

At first glance of the film, upon seeing that the setting takes place in the rural, mainly low-class areas of Danao, my impression was quite pessimistic, that it may encourage people who especially have low tolerance/patience in life, or those engaging in illegal ventures, to do crimes—to engage in indiscriminate shooting since they have easier access to such weapons. And as such, my expectations were really met—that according to the data from the PNP here in Cebu, of crimes involving firearms, 95% of which were from unlicensed perpetrators. That data just goes to showcase that scary scenario. 

But one of the gun manufacturers in the documentary, who, obviously, favors this cheap gunmaking venture, defends that as long as a gun is handed to the right person, it should not be a problem at all. However true he may say, unfortunately the PNP data, again, shows otherwise. What people need to control this problem is self-regulation, but it may seem hard for some people to do such a thing so that is where the requirement of a firearm license comes into play—since those wishing to acquire firearms must undergo some form of education and orientation to assure they know what is right and wrong.

The scene that got my attention was during the interview with the man in his blue sando—I must say this is my most favorite scene in this film where somebody warns of a raid incoming—it was epic, the audio was recorded, although there was no scene shot on camera for the crew’s fear of possibly being victims of the raid for interviewing with illegal gunmakers. Nevertheless, he hid the guns in a very secretive place, out of sight from the police, and the interview continued well along. The crew was said to maintain formality and composure during the incident. 

Prevalent in the film are back-to-back B-rolls of the guns and the manufacturers, as well as the manufacturing processes, during interviews with those manongs. A warehouse was also present, and telling from the angle of that shoot, it was shot with an ultra-wide lens, for I can see some distortion on the sides. Formal interviews were done steadily, although there were some handheld shots especially with those who showcased their creations, as in the man in stripes, probably the “coolest” of them all—the one who only finished until 2nd year of high school as he ventured into gunmaking at the age of 16.

Despite the illegality of the venture, the local Danaoans of that far-fetched barangay still see it as their livelihood, even the vice-governor of that time, Agnes A Magpale, is somehow sympathetic to their situation, calling for better opportunities for them.