Instalado Review 1
Instalado Review 1
power corrupts
Despite its problematic attitude to science, and its shortcomings as a work of cinema,
‘Instalado’ is full of ideas demanding discussion.
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The release of every new Filipino science fiction film is cause for excitement, because
sci-fi is such a rarity in Philippine cinema. It does not help that the mainstream
attempts are often trashy—figuratively as well as literally, in the case of 2007’s Resiklo.
Science fiction, or speculative fiction in general, is an engaging medium for discussing
important ideas about society. The genre holds great potential for our country, where
the people are addicted to escapist entertainment.
We cannot blame a lack of talent and imagination. There is in fact a wealth of excellent
speculative fiction in Philippine literature, but these stories remain obscure in a nation
with no particular love of reading. (We have great authors like Dean Francis Alfar, who
have published stories and books in fantasy, sci-fi, magic realism and every conceivable
speculative genre, not just in the Philippines but internationally.) Films, with all their
pomp and celebrity, are more effective at penetrating the Filipino consciousness, and
thereby is a more powerful channel for disseminating meaningful stories.
Enter Instalado, an entry to the 2017 ToFarm Film Festival. (This festival is itself a
fascinating and unique project, with its dedication to the upliftment of Philippine
agriculture.) The genius of Instalado is in the premise: it was a brilliant stroke of
creativity for its filmmakers to have come up with a science-fiction approach on its way
to joining a film festival about farming. Agriculture immediately evokes the pastoral, the
rural, and indeed many entries in ToFarm are traditional dramas set in the
countryside. Instaladoinstead recognizes that the struggles of farmers can spill down
the road to the city.
The central speculation in the film is: what if in the near future, mankind succeeds in
inventing a device for directly uploading knowledge to the human brain? The process,
called installation, sends the educational system into chaos. It disrupts society,
and Instalado examines its particular effects on an imagined Philippines, where the
divide between the rich and the poor, between the quiet countryside and the hyper-
developed cities, have grown wider than ever.
Throughout the film, the modern skyscrapers of urban centers hang ominously in the
distance, visible from the farms. This visual contrast between the rural and the
cosmopolitan permeates the story; it is a world-building aesthetic reminiscent of Rian
Johnson’s Looper.
Warning: this review discusses the film’s themes at length, and includes major
spoilers.
Instalado is described as social science fiction, which means that its speculative focus is
on the social repercussions of its imagined science. Indeed, much of the film feels like a
socialist intellectual’s rant against technology and its deep capitalist ties.
Most prominent among its objects of protest is the corruption of education. Installation
may be revolutionary, but it remains an expensive technology, and the procedure can
only be obtained from private corporations. Instalado uses this contrivance to echo
socialist activism: protests of the leftist, anti-neoliberal kind one could hear in
Philippine state university campuses. The film’s mouthpiece for this is a faction of
characters who do precisely that: hold demonstrations against the privatization of
installation. Education is a right, not a privilege, they write on signs. Installation
should be state-sponsored, not commercialized! In the concerns of these activists, the
fantastic nature of installation dissipates and becomes indistinguishable from plain old
education.
To the film’s credit, its ensemble of characters, including the mentioned activists, are
not as flat as their placards. They straddle gray areas; they are driven by conflicting
motivations. Many of the protesters leave their ranks when a lottery gives them a chance
to have installation for free. They may have principles, but they also have families to
support, material realities to deal with. Even their leader, Prof. Gener Taruc (Archie
Adamos), leaves the movement when he is offered free installation by a company
seeking to promote their services. Asked what led him, a previously staunch critic of the
technology, to abandon his campaign, he mumbles that he is “not against installation
per se, but against the system.” In his apologetic tone we hear the tragic compromises
that those fighting for a cause have had to make at some point.
Another target of Instalado‘s critique are institutions. The greed of the profit-minded
corporations is obvious; a more interesting character is the Catholic Church, that ever-
present establishment of Filipino society. It is revealed that Gift of Wisdom, one of the
top two providers of installation in this future Philippines, is controlled by the Church.
The film asks: what happens when revolutionary technologies fall into the hands of
conservative institutions, those with ideological aims? The corporations want profit, and
the churches want proselytism. How do these interests align with the freedom and rights
of ordinary citizens?
The question is concretized in Shamila’s (Barbara Miguel) character, who wins the Gift
of Wisdom lottery for free installations. She is a Muslim girl. When her friend tells her
that accepting the prize entails mandatory indoctrination on Catholic theology, she
responds, well, she’s always been curious about other religions anyway. Her response is
uplifting and heartwarming in its innocent openness. But then she is told that it is not
only about the knowledge: she would have to convert to Christianity first, before any
installation could be done on her. The scene ends with the heavy-handed imagery of her
hijab falling into a creek and being carried away by the current.
In addition to its laundry list of social commentary, Instalado diligently runs through a
diversity checklist. Director and writer Jason Laxamana is one of several contemporary
filmmakers promoting Kapampangan regional cinema, and the film is set in his home
province. We hear three languages in the film: not just Filipino/Tagalog and English, the
distinct uses of which highlights the class differences of the characters, but also
Kapampangan. The province lies at the heart of the Christian lowlands of Luzon, and yet
we have Shamila’s Muslim character. The film even comes up with an in-story excuse to
showcase more diversity: a Filipino installation tech start-up, Educore, recruits a
representative cast of Central Luzon inhabitants to receive free installation as a publicity
stunt. In addition to Prof. Taruc, the enlistees include an inglesero matinee idol, a
prostitute from Angeles City, and an Aeta who dreams of studying law.
(But the most amusing personality in this ensemble is an award-winning indie
filmmaker who asks permission from Educore to document the group’s experiences
before and after installation. The executives are initially hesitant, concerned with how
indies are typically antagonistic towards businesses and institutions. Instalado is so
thorough in its criticism that it includes this reflexive, self-conscious subplot.)
On a more personal, moral-ethical level: the film comes with a generous serving of
platitudes about hard work and perseverance, especially their value in relation to
intelligence. Knowledge is valuable only when it is hard-earned, says the unspoken but
heavily implied principle of many of its characters. Even if the film itself ultimately does
not believe it, that is the impression its story and dialogue leaves.
The nickname for those who have undergone installation is meaningful: ‘insta’, ringing
with the accusation of instant gratification. The lottery subplot underscores this struggle
between the obsolete, tedious form of education, and its new, impatient fulfillment.
A starker symbol comes courtesy of Victor (McCoy De Leon), a poor farmer’s son and
insta-aspiree, and Arnel (Jun-jun Quintana), the multi-insta who acts and talks like he
has seen it all. Victor, riding one day atop his family’s carabao, runs into Arnel, his old
townmate who now drives a luxurious sports car. As they discuss the merits of
installation vis-à-vis traditional education, the weary carabao is made the symbol of
backward, unnecessary labor, and the shiny car takes the seductive sheen of speedy
progress.
The metaphor apparently not sufficing, the next scene shows Victor back at home,
voraciously eating lunch with his family. Slow down, his mother warns him, or you
might choke. It is foreshadowing, of course: be wary of instant solutions, because they
just might kill you.
The best science fiction places imaginary, wondrous science in the service of exploring
the human condition. It is not necessary to get the science right; it only has to be
coherent and plausible. Indeed, getting the science too right can kill the story. It is
fiction after all, not research.
That Instalado focuses on the social means that the film is even less accountable for
failing to make its science accurate; both its social critique and its narrative work
effectively without having to delve into the details of its speculative technology.
Nevertheless, it is fruitful to see how the film understands the mind, because it reflects
how Filipinos think about intelligence and education.
There is barely any description of how installation might work, and this
betrays Instalado’s simplistic view of the mind. For the purposes of installation,
knowledge is neatly catalogued in terms of college degrees (agriculture, business
administration, nursing) or languages (the ingleseromatinee idol wants to straighten his
Tagalog tongue). It is implied that installation is not capable of mind-control, because it
cannot change religious convictions by itself.
Instalado models the mind like a computer hard drive, following the problematic
popular understanding. This, despite what science tells us, that the mind is more
organic than that: thoughts are shaped by memories just as the memories themselves
are shaped by thoughts. The film does understand the distinction between
knowledge, kaalaman, and wisdom, katalinuhan: Arnel mocks Victor once for desiring
to learn something by installation, when he could have simply searched for it on the
internet. But the film’s script proceeds to use ‘kaalaman’ and ‘katalinuhan’
interchangeably, so the difference is lost.
Of course, nailing down the science is beyond the responsibilities of this film. Most
science fiction stories break down when over-analyzed, and Instalado suffers from the
same logical gaps as the 2011 film Limitless: if the technology exists to increase a
person’s intelligence to superhuman levels, then it is easy to imagine that that person
would have little difficulty overcoming obstacles put up by lesser antagonists, just as
humans have little difficulty subjugating primates. There would be no conflict, and no
story.
However, many Filipinos glorify hard work at the expense of intellect, keeping faith that
earnest labor would inevitably lead to prosperity. But it is a product of intellectual
activity itself, the conclusion of the mental labor of many Filipino scholars, that hard
work is necessary yet insufficient: that there are systemic, social, and unjust factors that
grant wealth to a privileged few while forsaking the masses, regardless of their effort.
And so frustration brews. Some come to identify the educated with the economic elite,
and the frustration morphs into anti-intellectualism. I fear that Instalado aggravates
this, by portraying most of the instas—the educated—as the apathetic, selfish villains.
Suspicious science?
Technology is neither good nor bad. It is the agents, the people who use it, who are
accountable for the benefit or harm that may come out of its use. Instalado knows this:
recall Prof. Taruc, who is “not against installation per se, but against the system.” The
film presents characters on either side: there are those who exploit it for personal gain,
and there are those (unfortunately outnumbered) who attempt to capitalize on it for
social good.
It is to the film’s credit that it encourages more nuanced thinking about technology’s
impact on society: that it can be both harmful and beneficial, at the same
time. Instalado rightfully says we should take technology slowly—to take the carabao
approach, taking cue from the film’s imagery—and we should think twice about things
that shine and enchant. But all this is undermined by the film’s ending, which presents
technology as dangerous.
Science fiction is not necessarily an advocate of science. A work need not support that
which it questions. But Filipino society is burdened by a tragic misunderstanding of
science; Filipino science fiction must take on the duty of advocating science, the view
that technology of the empowering kind is not beyond a Third World nation’s grasp. [A
writer, enthusiastically responding to Instalado’s trailer, ponders the Filipino’s ‘why
bother?’ attitude towards science.] Toward the end of Instalado, the local tech firm
Educore bungles its first installation, and the patient goes mad. Another character
scoffs, that it was only expected, because anything made locally is rubbish. The idea is
rectified shortly thereafter, because a plot twist suggests that installation, regardless of
which company or country performs it, causes its recipients to lose their minds if they
fail to take maintenance medications. But the stigma remains, the internal voice
echoes: Filipino-made is junk, Filipino tech sucks.
Filipino sci-fi should show that science is not just about fantastic gadgets: hologram
cellphones, plastic money, eyeglass-mounted film cameras. That the memorization of
scientific animal names alone does not equate to scientific aptitude. (At a reunion party
with his insta batchmates, Arnel drinks himself silly, and mumbles at Victor, “Bubalus
bubalis”—the scientific name for the carabao.) More fundamentally, Filipino sci-fi
should advocate science as a worldview, a rational way of thinking essential to a society’s
progress and future. Instalado rightly questions technology, but it should not have been
too suspicious. It should not have made science feel like the antagonist.
Character underdevelopment
The most interesting characters in the film are Shamila (Barbara Miguel), the Muslim
girl, and Danny Tua (Francis Magundayao), who has achieved much success in his
professional career at a very young age thanks to installation. These two characters,
together and separately, figure in a few beautiful moments of the film. Danny comes
home to his family from the city once, and when he reunites with Shamila and his other
childhood friends at the creek where they have always played, he is struck with longing
for the childhood he had given up to get ahead in life.
Beyond these two characters, however, the ensemble is filled with characters beholden
to the film’s premise and its urgent ideas. Their thoughts and actions flow from the
needs of exposition; they are practical characters touched and changed by technology
first and foremost, displaying their humanity only secondarily.
In exploring its myriad themes, the film is left with no space for developing deeply
sympathetic personalities. The characters are intellectually engaging, but not as affective
as in other films with a more solid grasp of drama.
An uplifting alternative
The ToFarm Film Festival stands out as a fresh new competitor among the crop of film
festivals sprouting today in the Philippines because of its focus: agriculture. This sector
of the country’s economy employs a third of our labor force, and its development is
critical to the inclusive growth that our supposedly-democratic society desperately
needs. ToFarm’s has the unique potential to play a visionary role in agricultural
advocacy. Using the engaging medium of cinema, it can capture the imagination of those
who would otherwise not value agriculture as a worthwhile field of endeavor.
Mainstream Filipino films are already overflowing with bourgeois characters. It can be
quite powerful to see, for a change, empowered, happy farmers. We need films that
make farming appealing in a positive way, more optimistic than Instalado, where the
advocacy for agriculture is sentimental, no more than an appeal to emotion. (If Victor
were to leave for the city, he would be leaving his parents behind on their poor,
miserable fields.) The story makes a strong case for reforming education, but it fails to
discuss the needs and benefits of agriculture.
Films should also assist in rectifying the Filipino attitude to science in general. They
should make it known that solving scientific challenges is a meaningful and joyful
endeavor. In fact it does not have to be science fiction; a positive portrayal of scientists
can go a long way. Bring in new characters, Filipino scientists, to the screen, so they can
serve as role models for the youth.
There are rumors that Instalado may only be the first film in a trilogy. It could still
strike a more uplifting tone in future installments. (Or should we call
those installations?) Hopefully, in those sequels, the portrayal of science will no longer
be alarmist, but gentle, nuanced, and optimistic.
Film still screen-captured from the official film trailer.
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MANILA, Philippines – After its successful run at the 2017 ToFarm Film Festival,
independent sci-film Instalado returned to Cine Lokal last Friday, January 26.
Directed by Jason Paul Laxamana, Instalado is set at a time where, rather than pay for
education, people can have knowledge directly installed into their brains. No need for
late night studying. No exams. No tuition fees.
Believing that this is his only way out of poverty, Victor (McCoy de Leon) decided to
abandon his life as a farmer and work as a housekeep to raise money for the
installation.
Curious to know more? Here are 5 things you need to know about Instalado:
The indie sci-fim film won 3rd Best Picture, People’s Choice, Best Sound, and Best
Production Design at the ToFarm Film Festival. Francis Magundayao and Barbara
Miguel also won best supporting actor and best supporting actress, respectively.
By opting to do a sci-fi movie, Jason was able to set Instalado apart from every other
local advocacy films you’ve seen in the past. It’s not your average documentary
showing the challenges of farm life, highlighting the major differences between the rich
and the poor, in an attempt to gain sympathy from the audience. Rather, the director
attempted to dig deeper into the human psychology and make the audience question
their beliefs and desires.
3. Just from reading the screenplay, ToFarm head Maryo J. Delos Reyes
knew they had a hit on their hands
After reading the screenplay for Instalado, Maryo had a feeling that the movie will be
shortlisted by the selection committee. According to him, Jason’s innovative approach to
storytelling served as an inspiration to other filmmakers. He shared that Jason was able
to prove that advocacy films need not be “boring” in nature.
Other Stories
(The drive to show an advocacy about agriculture is very hard to put entertainment
value. What Jason did is very innovative...it's something refreshing.)
The press conference was also one of the final events the famed director attended
before his death on Saturday, January 27.
Jason has been sitting on the story of Instalado since 2012. According to him, several
film festivals turned him down because the concept was just “too far fetched” for most
organizers. That is why when he finally received the go signal from ToFarm, the
pressure was daunting, to say the least. It did not help that he had to make his dream
sci-fi movie on a limited budget.
“Na-pressure kasi, ‘Eto na ba ‘yun? Gagawa na tayo ng local sci-fi film?’ Ayun, ginawa
na lang namin with the available resources we had. Of course P1.5 million isn’t an ideal
budget for a science fiction film pero tinawid natin.”
(It was pressruing. Was this it? Are we making a local sci-fi film? So we did it with the
available resources we had. Of course P1.5 million isn't an ideal budget for a science
fiction film but we were able to do it.)
“It’s not something often told about. Kung siguro mas malaki pang film, kung
nadagdagan pa ‘yung budget, mas malawak pang special effects ang magagawa (If the
film was big, it had more funding, the special effects would have been wide and better).”
Although he’s had several acting workshops, McCoy admitted that working on an
independent film is a different challenge altogether. The Hashtag member explained
that, before taking the role, he understood the limitations of the project but still decided
to accept it, thinking that it will help him widen his horizons.
McCoy added that he developed a newfound respect and admirations for farmers.
APPRECIATION. McCoy de Leon says he has more respect for the farmers and their situation after doing
'Instalado'
“Lalo ko silang na-appreciate kasi nadama ko ‘yung ginagawa nila pang araw-araw.
Ganun pala yung pakiramdam! Sobrang na-appreciate ko lahat, ‘yung pamumuhay
nila.”
(I learned to appreciate them more because I felt how they work everyday. I was like
that's how it felt. I learned to appreciate how they live.)
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The ToFarm Film Festival was launched last year to "showcase the lives, journeys, aspirations, trials and
tribulations" of farmers. Its mission is to "stimulate the agriculture community with the help of the film
medium to promote awareness of the life of Filipino farmers." The festival director is esteemed film
director Maryo J. delos Reyes.
I completely missed the first ToFarm Film Festival held July 13-19, 2016. The film "Paglipay," about Aeta
villagers in Zambales who made a living by kaingin farming on Mt. Pinatubo, won Best Picture, Best
Director (for Zig Dulay), Best Actor (for Gabby Cabalic), Best Supporting Actress (for Anna Luna), and
People's Choice.
Fortunately, "Paglipay" and "Pauwi Na" (another multi-awarded entry) are among the films chosen for the
first Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino to be shown this August, so I hope I can watch those two films by then.
**********
The story of "Instalado" is set in the farming town of Porac, Pampanga in the near future. There is now an
advanced technology where an entire four-year college course is simply "installed" in the brain of an
individual in a matter of four hours. Many people were availing of this easy form of "education", the high
price notwithstanding. On the other hand, teachers and professors are protesting how this system only
favored the rich and privileged.
After having been installed with no less than four college courses, Arnel Balajadia returned to their
hometown driving a red BMW convertible. In order to earn his own money for his own installation, Arnel's
childhood friend Victor Maniago chose to leave his father's farm and worked like a servant in Arnel's
home in order to earn money for his own installation.
We also meet Danny Tua, a 15-year old boy who had his installation with 8 diploma courses done just 4
years before. Despite his wealth and position as the chief executive of the marketing firm hired by a new
all-Filipino installation firm, Danny does not seem happy being pressured to be the breadwinner of their
family, losing his childhood in the process.
Pinoy Big Brother graduate and #Hastag McCoy de Leon is starring in his first film in the lead role of
Victor. We see him wash a carabao, chop vegetables, wipe vomit off the floor and several other mundane
chores that he probably never ever did in real life. He knows he does not really look like his parents nor
his kid brother here, but he still gave the role his all, and we appreciate the effort.
Jun-jun Quintana plays Arnel, Victor's successful friend and master. The role required him to act basically
as a spoiled rich boy, so this was probably not so much of a challenge for this young actor who already
has an Urian award for Best Supporting Actor (for "Philippino Story", 2013). His best scene would be one
of his first, the one where he confronts his old professor who flunked him before.
Francis Magundayao plays Danny. He is only 18, so he is not much older than his character who just had
his 15th birthday. He had the private angst and depression part of the teenager Danny nailed. However,
as the CEO of his marketing firm, he still looked like he lacked confidence. Maybe he was supposed to
look awkward to highlight the discomfiting reversed situation where the boss is the youngest person in the
conference room.
Archie Adamos had a marked role as Prof. Gener Taruc, a professor who was against installation but was
offered a free installation himself. 13-year old Barbara Miguel (Best Actress winner at the 2013 Harlem
International Filmfest for the Cinemalaya film "Nuwebe") had a winning performance as Danny's
childhood friend Shamila, a Muslim girl who also yearned to have installation herself.
The plot is very intriguing and provocative. You will think about the story long after you've seen the film.
This type of education is very convenient, isn't it? Four hours vs. four years is no contest. Furthermore,
the technology aspect does not seem to be too far-fetched to become reality in the future. However,
writer-director Jason Paul Laxamana is careful to present both sides of the coin. Theoretical knowledge
does not equal personality, ethics, manners and respect.
At first glance, this science-fiction theme seemed unrelated to the festival theme of agriculture. However,
Laxamana was able to weave farming in a significant side plot to make it fit. It was interesting to hear
progress in political geography with terms like "State of Cagayan Valley" or "Mabalacat City" mentioned.
There are also droll futuristic props like hologram cell phones and plastic-looking peso bills. This
audacious and imaginative storyline makes this film definitely stand out from the other more down-to-
earth entries of this festival. 7/10.
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