By Clifford Hilo
Kolorete has politics, music, and the living dead. In other words, it's just another zombie flick. Director Ruelo Lozendo explains.
Pedro Costa once remarked that a filmmaker needs to be young and old at the same time so that one might have both the opposing qualities of wild impulse and rational experience.
The film Kolorete makes one think of the director as a veteran experimenter, a director certain and calm in his choices as a result of years and years of attention and work. One thinks of the elderly Jean Marie Straub with Kolorete, as if he were the one poised over the editing table with his tousled, blanche white hair and a cigar angrily chewed in the side of his mouth.
Then it was quite the surprise to see the director, Ruelo Lozendo, after the screening of Kolorete, because out walked a young man who appeared no older than twenty (he's actually 32). Here is the paradox of the man who is young and mature at the same time -- so mature in his cinema that he almost seems super-aged. He spoke softly to the audience in his demure way about Kolorete. And one must really admire the audacity of his modesty, because here is a filmmaker whose humility belies the assuredness of his work. Watch next for where Ruelo Lozendo will go, because there is a great deal of future left for this old man.
Asia Pacific Arts: Kolorete is a very bold film, and a very precocious one too. You are a very young filmmaker -- 32, I believe. When did you start making films and how did you come into creating Kolorete?
Ruelo Lozendo: I started out as a cinematographer/editor for short films in 2001. Back when digital filmmaking in the Philippines had just started. Most of the films at that time were shot on 16mm. I finished my first short Simula in 2006. I originally wanted to do a musical film with zombies as characters. But I wanted an indigenous theme, and zombie is a very Western concept. So I elevated the concept of zombie into symbolism and looked at the Philippine context wherein it could be said that there existed zombies in our country. Iit was during the Spanish period that the Filipinos lived their lives as zombies -- living in shackles, and yet dead in spirit as free people. Thus, the idea of the musical period film that is Kolorete came about.
APA: How has the critical reaction been to Kolorete?
RL: Kolorete just had its international premiere in Los Angeles. It will be screened in Madrid later this month. When it premiered in Manila, some of the audience appreciated and recognized the film, but most of them were trying to figure it out. So they had a little conversation.
APA: This is a very difficult and enigmatic film to watch at certain moments. Who do you feel is the best kind of audience for your film?
RL: I believe it's the academe. Unfortunately, during our preview screening in major universities, we got passive response. Now, I really don't know.
APA: I noticed the name John Torres in the credits, and I assume that this is the same filmmaker of Todo, Todo, Teros. Can you describe the community of filmmakers in the Philippines? Do you work often in collaboration with John and others?
RL: John and I worked together in his second feature Years When I Was A Child Outside. I helped him stitch the film. There is actually a sense of bayanihan amongst filmmakers in the Philippines despite its diverse groups.
APA: Your work reminds me of Straub, Huillet, or Pedro Costa. Are you at all influenced by these filmmakers? Who are your cinematic influences and otherwise?
RL: I haven't seen their works. I was in high school when I saw Raymond Red's Bayani. That was my first exposure to alternative films. Kidlat Tahimik taught me to listen to my "sariling duwende." His films are indigenous, and in a lot of ways defy Hollywood. His sense of self-identity continually inspires me. Rox Lee, the godfather of Philippine experimental cinema, inspires me to continue making films and always have fun in the process. He is unselfish, and willingly shares his experiences and talent to others. Lav Diaz has often emphasized that Filipinos have their own aesthetics that need to be showcased. He always reminds me that art is free. He taught me to develop my own style in filmmaking.
APA: You mentioned that this film is a zombie film, about Filipinos living under colonial rule who are like the walking dead. This is a very overt political stance. What role does politics play in your filmmaking?
RL: The second part or the parallel narrative of the film (the cave scenes) is about the artistic space or space of this subversion. Subversion in the first narrative is the yearning for freedom from the constriction of the system in both the political and the narrative structure.
APA: But in a more playful way, you also mentioned that you really do like Filipino horror and zombie films. Could you give us a short list of your favorite Filipino horror directors and films?
RL: I liked the old school pinoy horror movies. I remember Mang Kepweng with the flying coffins, Celso Ad Castillo's Patayin sa Sindak si Barbara, Peque Gallaga's Shake, Rattle, & Roll and Aswang, and Dolphy's Omeng Satanasia. Most recent Filipino horror films: Khavn's Aswang in Quezon City and 3 Days of Darkness; and Richard Somes' Yanggaw. Also check this out: Gerry De Leon's Terror Is A Man.
APA: This is a film about another era and time in the Philippine's past. What sources of history, storytelling, and otherwise do you draw on as inspiration for your film?
RL: Kolorete is not based on actual history, but it's historical in the sense that it tackles the struggle of people in a small town during the Spanish occupation. Instead of a grand and epic portrayal of history, the film focuses on a small ripple in the pond, a small scale-struggle in history. My treatment takes inspiration from the early silent Filipino films -- black and white, heavy make-up, and musical (based on zarzuelas).
APA: Here, in America, it is very difficult to find a film that is this willing to go to the edge of radicalism both politically and formally like you do. It is reminiscent of radical, global cinema from the 1960s and 1970s. How do you see yourself in relation to that older third-world tradition of filmmaker artists like Kidlat Tahimik, Glauber Rocha, and others?
RL: Kidlat Tahimik films are very personal and conceptual. I think that is what I want to achieve in my films, bringing a new perspective in tackling individual and social realities.
APA: This is a very big question. How do you see yourself in relation to the national identity of the Philippines? In other words, when you make a film like Kolorete, what do you want it to say about you and your thoughts about contemporary Filipino life?
RL: Kolorete is about struggling for artistic space. In the later part of the play (zarzuela), when Asuncion sings her last song, the filmmaker as the ultimate subverter in the film disembodies the voice as a technique to place it in a space of desire -- a space (the cave) where voice (expression) won't be suppressed by system. Censorship in the Philippines is really too harsh, giving filmmakers a hard time to propagate their films.
APA: This is a very small question. Do you have any funny stories about your visit to America?
RL: Often times I'm asked for an ID when ordering a drink.
APA: A final question. What are your plans for future projects?
RL: I'm developing a screenplay about a fictitious tribe in south Philippines.
Published: Friday, May 22, 2009
