The Debut’s Father-Son Narrative and Its Concerning End
The mixed messages from The Debut (2001) unintentionally coincides with the myriad components which constitute the puzzle that is Filipino-American culture. One can argue that Gene Cajayon’s directorial debut on one level succeeds in its resolving of the archetypal father-son conflict, but things become problematic with how the film ties loose ends, with the ending seeming to arrive to a rather reactionary conclusion of tribalism- that pinoys should stick with pinoys. Cajayon uses lukewarm colors, close-ups, shoulder shots and vague dialogue to provide the viewer with an ending scene that, due to its intentional omission of details, becomes open to plenty of interpretations. Nevertheless, it becomes quite clear to the discerning viewer that Ben Mercado’s decision to break from the traditional aspirations of Capitalist America (forsaking his scholarship to UCLA and a potentially lucrative future in the medical industry) while settling on a relationship from the same cultural background is an influential one that will stay with him throughout his journey in CalArts university.
Once his artistic inspirations were kick-started by successful love with his sister’s friend Annabelle, the entirety of Ben’s creative process from the sketching to the photo-gathering is displayed in a montage accompanied by Julie Plug’s aptly-titled “Devotion.” Ben’s interests shift overnight from the romantic to the filial, and he chooses to direct his inner-muse towards his family, using the clipped photos of the debutante for reference. His process lasts literally overnight, as evidenced by the gradual brightening of the lamp light and the amount of work he has to show for it. Seconds before the song ends a tired and reluctant-looking Roland emerges into the morning, glances at his son’s room and then trods to the kitchen in his slippers. Ben resolutely packs his final artwork and photo into his portfolio before walking out to join his father.
Now the camera is aligned with Roland’s hip, and slowly pans up from a medium shot towards eye-level as if rising from the dining table to switch the scrutiny of Tirso Cruz III’s character frying breakfast to Ben entering the room. The choice to maintain this shot at shoulder-level not only puts the audience at relaxed ease but suggests a tender phenomenon between two males of the same family- an understanding. Ben’s words of encouragement are punctuated by silence, until Roland lets out a defeated, “I was very young, then.” Encouraged, Ben is framed in a medium shot where his facial expressions, body language and dialogue become amplified in his performance. Everything he says next requires courage and drama: he had withdrew his savings for UCLA and will be going to Cal Arts instead.
The key to the aesthetics of this scene is balance, or equality. In a story about multigenerational father-son conflicts, it is only fitting that a proper resolution between estranged family members be established upon notions of equality. Towards the end, the son ideally becomes elevated to the same respectful position to be heard out in full by the father. Immediately after Ben’s devastating disclosure Roland is also framed into a medium shot. His eyes flicker avian-like at nothing in particular, before the camera returns to Ben asking, “Well, aren’t you gonna yell at me or something?”
From this point on Cruz’s character mutters nothing but flat-toned lines: “All of your savings;” “So much money, Ruben;” “For a hobby.” He avoids making eye contact with his son as he walks over to examine his open portfolio, which ranges from sleek comic-book designs to watercolor portraits. We get the sensation that Roland is already halfway giving in as he eats his breakfast of sausage and rice disarmingly. Predictably, Ben flips strategically to his last picture composing of all three males of the direct Ruben family line, with father Roland as the focal point of the piece on the bottom. As a piece of art, the painting’s meaning is quite straightforward. Its creation, at best, was intended solely to express the artist’s innermost feelings of the patriarchs in his life. At worst, it was created with the intent of a bargaining chip. Father Roland is clearly portrayed as the “main character” of the piece, with the indomitable shadow of Grandfather Tito staring domineeringly to his right. Ben himself cannot be the center of the piece, for he too, looks dreamily to his right, painted in brighter hues but none as distinct as Roland himself. Roland’s visage is clearly the most detailed in facial marks and clothing, because he is depicted as the sole inhabitant of reality within-the-moment, for the two entities above him are not floating three-dimensionally but looming as representations of the past and future within his head, respectively. From a tactical perspective, Ben sought to make this overnight work an effective attempt to convey empathy for his father’s position as the bridge between generations.
This is where the ending seconds of the film become problematic, which, depending on the sociopolitical/moral background of whomever interested, makes or breaks the film. Despite the hackneyed mantras of well-intending parents attempting to encourage their children to “follow their dreams,” I am opting that not a single Asian American parent that comes from the same socioeconomic background of Roland did not squirm inwardly at his performance during this scene. Quite frankly, not a single parent would ever wish to be in Roland’s position. For his character to make ends meet by being a postman and then endure an emotionally-explosive confrontation by his father the night before which brutally denounced all of his life decisions, it is hard to not believe that Roland was fighting back tears at Ben’s final work (which are not, regrettably, of relief). The most cynical of viewers will suspect that Ben’s dialogue during this scene could double as defiance, and that Roland fled off to church with anything but a good mood; the most neurotic of viewers would be fearing for Roland’s possible suicide! After all, there was no way for anyone in Ben’s family (besides Rose) to know that the white-washed son had recently entered a relationship with a fellow Filipina, so what possible joy could the father leave the disastrous news with at the moment?
The story behind the making of Gene Cajayon’s film is comparable to Apocalypse Now in the producing and developmental purgatory during which both casts lingered in, though whether Cajayon’s cliched father-son tale with its connotations about transnational cultures is worthy of its own documentary (Hearts of Darkness: Filmmaker’s Apocalypse) is, at best, questionable. Coppola’s masterpiece took nearly three years to finish. The Debut, which Cajayon intended to be his masterpiece, took a full decade, during which several of the cast and crews’ babies were born (Cajayon 15). The movie itself barely grossed more than its budget, of which most of the funds had to come out of Cajayon own pocket, having maxed numerous credit cards and accumulated much debt (Cajayon 14). Least acceptable of all, the film attempts to tie things together with a clichéd representation of forgiveness that is open for multiple meanings which can ultimately lead to criticism of the moral implications of the film.
Works Cited:
“The Making of ‘the Debut.’” The Debut: The Making of a Filipino American Film, by Gene Cajayon et al., 5 Card Productions/Celestial Pictures, 2001, pp. 14–15.
