From an event where the best in local cinema was heralded for a mainstream audience, the Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) has become a dumping ground for a myriad of sequels, tired cinematic tropes and disposable stories.

Instead of celebrating the best of Philippine cinema, the MMFF has become a commercialized parade of blatant product placement and cheap CGI—all in the name of box office.

This wasn’t always the case. In the late ‘70s, films like Burlesk Queen and Insiang were screened at the MMFF—a time when, as writer Jessica Zafra puts it, local cinema actually mattered. Directors like Lino Brocka and Laurice Guillen brought home awards, and films were celebrated by local theatergoers and foreign audiences alike.

Now, in the absence of a strong MMFF, local cinephiles look to the Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival for the best of Philippine cinema. For many independent filmmakers, festivals like Cinemalaya are opportunities to showcase their best work without selling out to mainstream cinema—the worst of which seems to be embodied by the MMFF.

The trouble, however, lies in this indie/mainstream divide. Elite audiences often reify independent cinema and dismiss mainstream films altogether. Audiences for both remain fairly exclusive of one another and rarely does a crossover hit to bridge the gap.

While independent film offers us some genuinely powerful cinema, the fact is that we cannot rely solely on independent filmmakers to represent the entirety of Philippine cinema. It is the studios that have the funds to create first-rate big-budget films and market them to a mass audience.

Creative freedom remains a primary concern. When even independent filmmakers struggle with creative freedom, how much more can we expect in the highly commercialized studio system where every film is a star vehicle, a remake or rides on passing fads?

Early signs of change, however, were manifest in the last MMFF. Films like Mark Meily’s El Presidente were flawed but promising in terms of both narrative and production value. There was, at the very least, the potential to transcend the audience divide with strong mainstream cinema.

Furthermore, the addition of Brillante Mendoza’s Thy Womb to the MMFF lineup gave hope in another opportunity to bridge the divide. However, its premature removal from most cinemas due to the lack of people who actually come to see the film proved that change wouldn’t come easily.

Change may be hard to come by, but what’s important to note is that there is hope for Philippine cinema. The solution to the complex problems of the industry can perhaps find its beginning with filmmakers—those who have the ambition to rise above what we’ve come to expect from the mainstream.

There must be an understanding among both producers and audiences that cinema is the most powerful medium to tell the stories that matter. Only then, when we truly value our films, can creative freedom really flourish and allow mainstream cinema to break free from its fetters and come into its own.

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