Pepe Diokno believes a nation is built by stories
Pepe Diokno began his filmmaking journey intending to make a statement. Selfish reason, he says, but I’d argue it was out of necessity at the time he was making them.
He explored issues of fraternity and hazing in Kapatiran (2015) and death squad killings in Engkwentro (2009)—issues which he felt strongly about. Over time, he learned that making a statement alone was not enough. Telling a story and creating an emotional experience should go hand in hand when appealing to social consciousness.
When the opportunity to direct GomBurZa (2023) came, Diokno initially hesitated—a kind of reservation you would not have suspected as you watched the top-grossing film of last year’s Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF).
Taught in school that religion was used to colonize the Philippines, he had to take a step back to assess. This push and pull led him to new realizations. “Religion is also where we began to foster and see our national identity,” Diokno explains. “‘Filipino’ came from the Secularization Movement, (when) native-born priests (were) fighting for the rights to administer parishes. That’s what making the film was about: how ‘Filipino’ spread.”
As stories can be told from different perspectives, Diokno talks about the gravity of choosing a film’s core message. “Number one, decide what story we’re trying to tell. Is it a story of conflicting reports? As a director, I said, ‘That’s not it.’ What we’re trying to share is about national identity.”
GomBurZa would indeed play a part in stirring nationalism, reminding us of how the three priests fought for our country’s independence and identity.
Diokno notes the evolving preferences of Filipino audiences, who now embrace a wider range of genres. “I think there’s space for all. What we saw at the MMFF last year is that audiences are looking for different kinds of experiences,” Diokno says. “You see that Filipinos want our stories. We want to see ourselves on screen. We want to experience our stories on screen and support (them).”
Cinema can show us where we have come from, what we are today, and where we want to be in the future.
But an openness to more genres does not necessarily equate to being critical. As filmmakers like Diokno challenge themselves to choose materials wisely, the audience is invited to do the same. “It’s a good question to ask ourselves whenever we watch films or read articles, books, or stories: Whether what we’re reading (or watching) is propaganda or not,” he firmly says.
Propaganda, as Diokno defines it, is content that exists solely to promote specific interests, whether they belong to a family, political dynasty, or political party. “There are many things out there meant to prop up a certain side, and those things should be questioned,” he adds.
And it’s in this scrutiny where you’d find whose interest it is really serving, as was the case for GomBurZa. He emphasizes, “Nations are built on stories and the more that the people believe in these stories, the stronger a nation becomes.”
Diokno recalls a filmmaking workshop he attended in Turin, Italy last year. In one of his tours, a friend pointed to a politician’s statue. It was Camillo Cavour, who once said, “We made Italy. Now we must make Italians.” This was when it dawned on him that nations are deliberately crafted. “They’re created and that’s where, by extension, stories come in.”
This realization guided him closely during the post-production of GomBurZa. “Whenever I hit a problem or had a question for myself, I always (think): How does this film make Filipinos? And what kind of Filipino is this film making?”
Diokno is determined to keep creating films that both tell and provoke. “I really believe in the power of cinema to create stories that make for a stronger Philippines. Cinema can show us where we have come from, what we are today, and where we want to be in the future,” he concludes.
Much like the portrayal of young Jose Rizal in GomBurZa during the execution of the three priests, the Filipino audience is also called to action, even if that simply means being critical of what we consume.