Should U.P. Ban "Gay Porno"?

In a recent article, veteran journalist Mario Bautista calls for a prohibition of what he calls "gay porno" from screening at the University of the Philippines Film Institute. UP -- along with the Cultural Center of the Philippines -- remains the last public venue for films deemed unfit for viewing by the Movie and Television Review and Classification Board. When the MTRCB gives a film an "X" rating, it can't be shown anywhere -- except in UP or CCP. No one in government is supposed to have legal power to curtail freedom of expression, so every movie is allowed a place -- at the very least in a cultural or educational setting.

For the past year, many X-rated films have enjoyed packed premiere screenings at UP -- sometimes a new movie every week. Today, filmmakers reserve slots at UP even before getting a rating, in anticipation of a hard time with the MTRCB. It's somewhat become standard practice, especially since it's also an effective promotional scheme in capturing a core audience. Most of these films eventually graduate to a more lenient rating of "R-18" after a cut or two, and go on to commercial runs in more accessible multiplexes. Not all of them are gay films. A few are straight. The X rating is mostly attributed to sexual content, even in films not particularly about sex. But it's the gay sex films that are presently getting the raised eyebrows, perhaps because they attract such an excitable crowd during these premieres, and perhaps because "gay" and "sex" are words that make certain sectors uncomfortable especially when put together. But much more likely, gay sex films have become targets because they have acquired a reputation for being bad. It's easy to discredit a terribly made film.

But thank goodness the UP Film Institute doesn't discriminate on values, whether moral, religious, or, more importantly, technical or artistic. It's ridiculous to ban a film based on quality or artistic merit. I sat through a terrible Dingdong Dantes and Marian Rivera romance last year, for example, but I'm not one to deny the one or two persons in the audience who may have found a morsel of delight in it. I wasn't exactly happy with at least half the gay films released last year either, but different people have different tastes. You have to weather the bad, because only in such a free environment can good films also thrive. They wallow in the same pond.

Filipino gay sex films are already on the fringes. This is evident because the major studios don't make them. It's almost exclusively the territory of the independents, with scrimped budgets to compensate for a significantly smaller market. Their commercial runs are very limited, in only a handful of theaters, and only in the major cities in the country. R-rated films aren't even shown in the country's largest cinema chain, SM Cinemas, following a company policy. (They only show PG or G.) X-rated films are even on the fringe of the fringe. Producers don't expect to cover their entire moviemaking cost with just one special screening in UP. Most people, even those interested to watch them, don't even brave the traffic and distance to UP in Quezon City. As it is, the setup for X-rated films is already unfriendly.

I've always had a problem with the flimsy standards and inconsistencies of the MTRCB in awarding ratings. It deserves a separate discussion, because that is not the issue here. The issue is not art or trash. It is not X or R. The issue is not exploitation of actors or unfit professional practices, though it deserves its own inquiry, of course. The issue is that in the event a film does get an X-rating, where will it go if UP chooses not to accept it? What certain people like Mario Bautista are asking for is beyond regulation, and it's not even simple censorship, it's banishment. It's throwing an entire work into limbo, never to be seen or heard from again. It's like cutting a person's tongue before people are allowed to hear what he has to say. Pity if those films turn out to be something you might actually find good, whatever your inclinations are. Supposing for a moment that government could banish content ever since the 1940's, our movies would still be unable to depict married couples in bed together (which was seen as lewd in those times), and homosexuality, even among clothed men, is a topic that would never see the light of day. Non-banishment guarantees that our culture moves forward with the times.

The most unfortunate thing that arises from this issue is the unmasking of some of our elders, like Mario Bautista, who wield phrases like "artistic freedom" yet still err on the side of banishment. If people like him won't champion expression, then who can we trust? If people in seats of government, some of whom are also artists, seek power to banish on the basis of taste, can we trust them to be the guardians of our culture? I'm also appalled that students and alumni of the University of the Philippines echo the same cries for banishment to keep their beloved alma mater "pure". I can't believe these are people who spent formative years in a diversified thinking environment. Right now, UPFI is still set for a premiere screening or two of possibly controversial material, which is the way it should be. If there's anything that needs to be changed around here, it's certain individuals' attitudes.

The Bakla Review is a homosexual, a supporter of Phiippine cinema, and an alumnus of the University of the Philippines.

Related Links:
"UP No Place For Gay Porno" By Mario Bautista
"Censors To Monitor UP Film Screenings" By Marichu Lambino
Readers Opinion at RDDantes
TBR Answers Your Burning Questions: The Rise of Gay Films

The Bakla Review Answers Your Burning Questions #3

Question: I wanna see a gay film na walang hubaran. - From Erpz

Answer:
Technically not a question. But it provokes one: Is there a gay film without nudity?

There's at least one among recent Filipino films. When Timawa Meets Delgado stars Kristoffer Grabato as a gay nursing student who pines to be reunited with his former boyfriend in the U.S. There is no nudity in the film. Not even an attractive guy taking off his shirt for that sexual effect. Granted, his story is only half of the entire narrative, which is really about the nursing diaspora.

But then, if a film is not about gay sex and it doesn't have nudity, is it even a gay movie? It may be hard to imagine, if our definition of gay is gender identity that's linked to sexuality. It makes sense that so many gay films have a sexual context. Don't most people equate gayness with attraction to the same sex in the first place? Seen in this light, nudity is not a cliche. The sight of male bodies in whichever state of undress and its instant primal effect on a person does seem like an organic part of the gay experience, and therefore gay cinema. But let's dig the libraries, and we can probably name documentaries, abstract films, animations, even commercial genre movies, also stories about transsexuals, that may contain no nudity, but still be "gay". However, I don't think I'll ever get tired of the flashing of male flesh in movies. I think it's a treat. Keep 'em coming.

The Bakla Review Answers Your Burning Questions #2

Question: How do you think the noticeable surge of local films depicting the lives of gay people came to be?

Answer:
The simple answer is technology. With the development of digital filmmaking came a drop in cost and easier access to tools. Because the mainstream studios weren't making personal gay films, it was simply a matter of time before new voices told their unique stories from the ground up.

But it's what filmmakers did with the technology that brought us to the explosion of today. In 2003, Cris Pablo not only independently produced his debut feature Duda/Doubt, he also self-distributed to movie theaters using a digital projector. What he did basically was to prove a film that depicted the realistic concerns of realistic homosexuals could find an audience and be financially successful. When people call Cris Pablo a pioneer, by god they're not kidding. By 2005, when Ang Pagdadalaga Ni Maximo Oliveros (The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros) and Masahista (The Masseur) both took similar risks, somewhat simultaneously, "blowing up" their digitally shot materials to 35mm prints for commercial runs in movie houses, winning international awards, thereby capturing the interest of a larger Filipino public, we knew a new order had been tapped.

Other institutional developments were the additional push, such as the establishment of more digital venues, especially the Robinsons IndieSine, and a growth in film festivals as enterprises, opportunities for international distribution, and the co-opting of commercial players, including studios and video companies. Suddenly filmmakers know where and how they can find their audience, and this is encouragement to make more films. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say that the Philippine independent cinema we know today -- gay or otherwise -- has been pushed into mainstream consciousness, for better or worse, thanks to queer sensibility. What we're enjoying right now is the geyser phenomenon: Something repressed for many years has finally been released. Naturally, it's a tremendous overflowing of power, steam, and noise. Inspiration begets inspiration and so on and so forth, and there will be out-of-the-box personal movies for as long as people watch them.

TBR Answers Your Burning Questions #1

Question:
Contemporary gay movies are generally tragedies. How do you think this irony relates to the real lives of gay people?
-From Dawnson (Question originally appears here.)

Answer:
Tragic endings are a staple not of gay films per se, but of erotic films. It's all that sex -- whether gay or straight -- that "warrants" a death by murder or suicide or total calamity. There's something about Philippine culture, our religious, predominantly Catholic upbringing that tells us all that promiscuity and forbidden desire on display must somehow be punished by film's end. As viewers, we must be purged of the guilt of watching by restoring order through common morality. For the longest time, homosexuality has been part of that which is sinful and must therefore be thwarted by a downer ending.

I find it disheartening that many filmmakers today still think this is the way to make a movie, uncritical of their own positions on sex and homosexuality. Similarly, many viewers still sometimes prefer the taboo gloom of these negative movies. Notice the popularity of the tragic and heavyhanded Ang Lihim Ni Antonio over the light and unapologetic Kambyo. I'm sure fans will have different justifications for their preference (quality, technical merit, etc.), but I'm betting it's largely a function of tone. So maybe we still need these homosexuality-leads-to-death movies if only to see something onscreen that resembles our true feelings about our own experiences. It's possible many people still believe relations with the same sex is a dirty indulgence that must be kept in check. On the other hand, I smile everytime I hear a viewer complain about stupid endings. I see it as a sign that more gay Filipinos are now envisioning a more positive future for themselves, one in which we can live happily ever after. I think what we ask for is not a ban on tragedies; We're simply hungry for movies that are more imaginative, intelligent, and forward-thinking.