The End of Text(ing): Jurilla’s Short Film Isla as Pre-modern Nostalgia
John E. Barrios
During one of the red carpet premiers of the Cinekasimanwa 4, Western Visayas festival
of films, held at the Cinema One of SM City Iloilo, Jonathan Jurilla’s short
film Isla was shown along with the two
other films also by Ilonggo directors. It readily caught the retina out of the
eyes of the viewers because of its fresh cinematography (credits to Emmanuel
Lerona and Ruperto Quitag) and unpretentious linear narrative.
Isla was shot in
the province of Antique, particularly in the towns of Culasi, Sebaste, and
Tibiao. It tells the story of two young female local tourists, Pol and Gi, who
went to Antique to explore its natural wonders. Pol, the main character was “seduced”
by nature. Seeing a butterfly, she follows it into the forest and there she
found a pitcher plant. Later, she went to the sea, swam and stayed
underwater for quite some time until her companion thought she was lost. She emerged
from the water “transformed” into a new person.
Using the concept of “lost and found” is not new but because
it was used in the context of the millenials’ technology, the cell phone, it
provided a hook that any viewer should not have missed. Right from the opening
of the short film, the two characters were already at their cell phones taking
selfies. So much so that their tour guide had no other choice but to leave the
two to their selfieic world. After taking pictures the two characters sat down
and kept on texting.
Text(ing). A text is commonly understood as a written mark
usually found on paper. But with the advent of digital technology, it found a
new meaning, “sms” or short for “short message service”; also means “text
message”. With sms, a written mark could be copied, sent to as many recipient
as one likes, and be erased. Since sms messaging is dependent on technology,
the pleasure that it could provide is only as good as the life of the cell phone’s
battery.
In the short film, the end of text(ing) first happened to
Pol when her battery was depleted. (Her friend’s power bac was of no use
because it was also depleted.) From her cell phone, her attention was
transferred to the hovering butterfly, next to the forest, and then to the sea.
Gi, however, was still at her cell phone, texting while the two of them wandered to the hills of Mararison island. It was only by the sea that the two got
separated. Pol took a swim while Gi kept on texting.
Pol’s texting activity was substituted by her exploration of
nature. She started to enjoy the pleasures that nature could provide and it
even came to a point where she has to leave her friend and discover not just
nature but also herself. In fact, Pol’s immersion into nature made her one with
nature. Pol emerged as both human + nature. This is the point where pre-modern
nostalgia becomes articulated.
The short film Isla
is about the re-enchantment of the world, our world. It wants us to see the
world—using the island as signifier—as a living and breathing being, like us
humans. It wants us to believe that the “island” is “us”. This belief propels
us back to our pre-colonial past where babaylanic
belief systems dominate the island of Panay. It was the time where our
ancestors would not dare cut trees without first asking the permission of the
spirits, or pass the forest without first uttering “tabi-tabi” (Please let us
pass by); it was the time where the first harvest of rice and fish is offered
to the unseen beings, and the time where big rocks, trees, and hills are seen
as sacred. The pre-colonial time was the time when our ancestors were one with
nature.
On the other hand, Jurilla’s Isla failed to re-enchant the world. The short film fell short of
being “pure” in its portrayal of nature. It employed modern technique of
editing and even incorporated modern rock in its background. Not to mention the
drone shots that throws a sudden view from up high. Or the wide angle shots that
were typical of tourism promotional videos that proliferate the internet. In
short, the film did not show nature as an organic subject.
However, the success of Isla
lies in the postmodern discourse that it offers. It was able to background
the idea of virtual space as signified by the “death” of the cell phone and the
end of text(ing) and foreground the pre-modern
physical space by “resurrecting” the “lost” characters of the Isla/island/world.
In the film, we see the world as signified by negotiating
spaces of “Antique”, the virtual world, the “other”/”unknown” world, and the world
of tourism. The camera lens used for every shot may be just one but it opens up
to multiple worlds—each world struggling to be recognized—signifying its
different presence(s) despite it being absence; each world in its paradoxical
existence.
Jurilla’s Isla made
us see and not see. The island wasn’t in the movie theater after all. We have
to go see Antique. Literally.
