What’s (Really) Wrong with the MMFF?

Christa Escudero
Assortedge
Published in
7 min readDec 27, 2019
Illustration by ZACH

Fun fact: Himala, Kisapmata, and Dekada ‘70 were all released during the Metro Manila Film Festival. These films are far from the offerings of the present-day Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF) wherein its criteria reflect the government support (or the lack thereof) for the arts.

Instead, the MMFF today has been utilized as a cash cow, churning movies filled with formulaic plots, overbearing CGI, and unrelated product placements. So the fact that it once provided a platform for masterpieces can be surprising.

What has made the MMFF what it is now, anyway? And can it go back to its splendor before?

Digging into the selection process

Long ago, the chosen films to be screened during the festival — called the Magic 8 — were chosen based on submitted scripts.

That selection process has been contested by film critics.

One gauges a film based on the story it portrays and the way the moving images portray that story — may it be through acting, cinematography, visual and sound effects, and production design, among others.

With that, it would be insubstantial to judge the merit of a movie entry based on its screenplay alone.

But as it turns out, the film entries weren’t exactly judged by their scripts.

In 2015, film critic Philbert Dy wrote his experience as then member of the MMFF selection committee. It was, from what he described, absurd.

“If the committee really wants a movie in the lineup, then it’ll be in the lineup. […] Because all that matters is what the committee believes will draw. [..] The interest most represented in this committee is that of the theater owners. Their representatives seem to dominate the discussion,” he revealed.

“…this selection process really is all for show. […] It doesn’t matter what’s in the script. All that matters are the names attached to those scripts. Vice Ganda, Kris Aquino, and Vic Sotto are automatically accepted, regardless of how good or bad the scripts are.”

“We are told that even if we get a script that isn’t technically completed, it is okay to let it through if it’s got the right stars,” he wrote further.

Why such focus on star factor?

Since the 2000s, the films screened during the MMFF have constantly featured the same celebrities. Most of them have done well in the box office.

Vic Sotto leads the most number of the top 30 highest grossing films in MMFF history, with nine entries earning at most PHP 401 million in one festival edition. Vice Ganda and Ai-Ai Delas Alas follows his lead with five each, earning PHP 571 million and PHP 272 million at most respectively. Kris Aquino goes next with four entries, earning at most PHP 393 million. Coco Martin (at most PHP 529 million), Kristine Hermosa (PHP 158 million), and Judy Ann Santos (PHP 187 million) follow with three each.

(Source: Wikipedia)

Not only that, 18 of the same top 30 — or 60% — were produced by Star Cinema. Notably, they were behind the top 4 films all led by Vice Ganda, as well as the films top-billed by Ai-Ai Delas Alas, Kris Aquino, Coco Martin, and Judy Ann Santos.

(Source: Wikipedia)

This is why the MMFF always caters to the same artists or production arms: because they bring them the money.

What about indie films?

Over the years, the MMFF has become a competition between the mainstream and the indie — a.k.a. “the taste of the Filipino moviegoers” and “what the Filipino moviegoers deserve.”

Film critics and enthusiasts have long criticized the lack of indie films in the festival. Indie films are well-known for tackling societal issues, therefore considered by the public as “high-brow” and “intimidating”.

Meanwhile, the mainstream camp argues that there’s a right time for indie films, and in Christmastime, the movie-going public needs to be served only light entertainment.

For film writer and producer Moira Lang, it doesn’t have to be that way.

“…Ayoko yung ginagamit ‘yung ‘indie vs. mainstream’ kasi it’s as if you already ‘resigned’ indies to the margins forever. Kasi ‘pag sinabi mo na na ‘indie vs. mainstream,’ it’s like saying that an indie can never go mainstream. So ano na ‘yung term ‘pag naging mainstream na ang indie?”

Two manifestations of this are That Thing Called Tadhana and Heneral Luna.

An Audience Choice awardee at the Cinema One Originals Film Festival last 2014, That Thing Called Tadhana tells a story about the proper way for a broken heart to heal and move on — an all-too-relatable narrative for a hugot-centric nation. The film was distributed in theaters nationwide and was able to earn PHP 134 million in under 3 weeks.

That Thing Called Tadhana was the highest grossing indie film of 2014 and is one of the early indie films to gain mass appeal (Photo courtesy to Cinema One and Creative Programs Inc.)

Heneral Luna was released the following year with a slow run at the cinemas on its first week. But with its fresh, contemporary take on the historical biopic — and that catchy tagline “Bayan o sarili?” — the film got help from word of mouth and social media. In turn, the film reached PHP 254 million in the box office.

Both films were independently produced.

This goes to show that, indeed, independent films can reach enough commercial success to launch themselves to the mainstream. All it takes is for them to bring something valuable to the audience.

The stakes at hand

But that really doesn’t matter for the powers that be. For them, independent films are a hit or miss — and what they need is guaranteed income.

This can be attributed to their goal to raise funds for their beneficiaries.

These beneficiaries are stakeholders of the film industry, which include the Movie Workers Welfare Foundation, Film Academy of the Philippines, Motion Picture Anti-Film Piracy Council, Optical Media Board, and the Film Development Council of the Philippines.

As stated in MMFF’s rules and regulations, to raise these funds, the collected amusement taxes by local government units are given to the said beneficiaries.

Meanwhile, other sources of income such as sponsorships, donations, entry fees, and advertisements shall cover the development activities of the MMFF — operations, administrative matters, prizes, rewards, and more.

So that should be a noble cause, shouldn’t it? It can now be understood why the MMFF prefers guaranteed profit over risky stories, right?

Not quite.

In 2015, the same year Dy’s confessional article was published, film entry Honor Thy Father was disqualified from the Best Picture award on technicalities. Crying foul over the decision, the Honor Thy Father camp called for an investigation.

The investigation, which was done in Congress, uncovered many deep-seated issues behind the scenes of the festival, including irregularities on the disbursement of festival funds.

In the House probe, Film Academy of the Philippines president Leo Martinez revealed that the funds were given to them in tranches. He also added that a number MMFF expenses were deducted from these funds, rendering the amount they receive even smaller.

The House committee has found that this proceeding has led to conflicts, demoralization, and a declining quality of output in the film industry.

Changes in the MMFF

All these issues considered — the questionable selection process, the bias against indie, and the neglect of beneficiaries — the festival in its entirety needed an overhaul.

And it did.

Following the discoveries from the congressional hearing prompted by the 2015 MMFF, the festival underwent complete changes, resulting in the 2016 edition.

This involved a new executive committee, the requirement for finished films to be submitted instead of mere scripts, and the removal of commercial viability in the criterion for entry selection.

The changes received mixed reactions.

The official entries for the MMFF 2016, which mostly consisted of independently-produced films (Photo courtesy of MMFF Official on Instagram)

On one hand, a portion of the public was delighted for the radical edition. Twitter hashtags #MMFF2016 and #MaramingMagandangFilipinoFilms (the edition’s tagline) are filled with reactions, thoughts and discussions of the films. There are even checklists and rankings of what they’ve seen from the lineup.

On the other hand, big studios accused the festival organizers of snubbing mainstream films, like those of Vic Sotto and Vice Ganda.

Moreover, the festival encountered challenges along the way — from theaters in the provinces pulling out MMFF entries from their screenings in favor of big studio films, to the festival schedule getting almost cut off from two weeks to 10 days.

In the end, the 2016 MMFF rendered P373.3 million, less than half of the PHP 1.02 billion earned the previous year.

This gave reason for mainstream outfits to call the festival edition a failure.

And so, the 2017 MMFF — and the years that followed — came with different criteria again: half of the entries will be selected from scripts, and the other half from finished films. Commercial appeal, too, was back in the selection criteria.

Many called this a middle ground between commercial and artistic interests. But in a series of tweets in 2018, Philbert Dy lamented over the outcome.

Film critic Philbert Dy finally gives up on the MMFF (Screenshot from Phil Dy on Twitter)

The real problem of the MMFF

Here’s what’s wrong about the MMFF: it does not care about the development of Filipino films at all.

It chooses to prioritize a film’s commercial value and ignores whatever kind of values it imparts to the Philippine audience. It has failed to practice its responsibilities for its beneficiaries, who basically make the entire Filipino film industry.

And worst of all, it refuses to change what is wrong.

From the very start, the MMFF was created “in recognition of the role of the film industry in providing artistic depictions of both this country’s stories and history.” It has failed to uphold that mission today.

Bringing back its once splendor is now uncertain.

--

--