‘Bona’ REVIEW: Greater than a Catharsis, More than a Woman
‘Bona’ REVIEW: Greater than a Catharsis, More than a Woman
Bona (Nora Aunor) dances her frustrations away in a campfire | Still taken from Kani Releasing’s YouTube teaser
Since the early days of our country, we've been taught to equate obedience with virtue, to consider subjugation as a great channel to showcase our loyalty or dedication. Over time, this internalized conditioning became so ingrained that we no longer question or doubt our position; we begin to see our subjugation as an automatic, even honorable, way of life.
Being enslaved is never a choice; it’s a manufactured privilege that hides its exploitative purpose through systematic indoctrination. Even choosing becomes fruitless as it has become an innate “good" quality to be subservient, to patiently subject ourselves to be the follower. But in the recently restored Filipino classic, Bona, this is not only seen as a value, but akin to a life's calling.
The film finds its footing as we trudge through the muddy floodwaters of the dilapidated slums alongside the titular character, Bona. She easily disregards her worn-out slippers, always determined to prioritize carrying two jugs of water for her beloved idol, Gardo (Philip Salvador).
If this represents fanaticism, then its strictest definition needs to be expounded with more lines. Because what is presented is not merely ordinary, but something along the lines of alarming and disgusting self-inflicted misery. Yet, whatever it may be, Bona will fiercely fight for her truth, even if it means going against her family and rejecting someone who genuinely wants to pursue her.
Gardo (Philip Salvador) and Bona’s hands intertwine | Taken from Kani Releasing’s YouTube teaser
Gardo represents the male archetype molded by the patriarchal burden of generational ideologies about women and their roles. He’s ruthlessly insensitive and treats them as disposable, only holding onto them if they meet his criteria for satisfaction.
But in the film, we’re given enough context to know that behind that faultless exterior, there’s a deep yearning for maternal warmth and suppressed mental strife that leaks into the way he talks. A hypocritical compensation at the expense of dignity, it’s equal parts illogical and honest.
Both are enslaved by something far greater than belief in ways they do not notice.
The film tries to stray away from rigid antagonism and offers an empathetic view of his characters, further accented by Nora Aunor’s brilliant performance as Bona. Without saying much, her face becomes the climactic pull. Moment to moment, she radiates a certain unease that propels the narrative, making it highly engaging to watch. This is further enhanced by Conrado Baltazar’s delicate and unadorned portrayal of the slums and the people as a living, breathing setting with an ambience backed up by a soundtrack, made only of rhythmic and psychedelic drums.
Brocka's realism shines, as always, through a sociopolitically animated subtext that speaks with equal force to the compelling character work. The background provides cogs to the overarching story itself, one that is focused on the roles of women and how they are abused without any limp of hesitation. From generations on end, this has been the nature of our gender dynamics and Bona gives the viewers a lot of time to soak in that reality and confront its low grade horror through this setup and framing.
Bona diligently follows Gardo through the slums | Taken from Kani Releasing’s YouTube teaser
In addition to all this, Bona also boasts a strong suite of symbolism and allegorical layers that, when peeled back, reveal not only nuance but also a direct sentiment powerful enough to make repeated viewings as emotional as the first, while offering new insights into unnoticed details where more incisive messages can take shape. For example, Brocka makes water so cinematically iconic through the film that even after four decades, it still hits like a two-tonne barbell plate dropping from the tallest building in NCR.
Lino Brocka never wastes time. From fighting for his political stance with such certitude during the mired Marcos era to masterfully using films as a conducive medium for social change, he trims the excess and always remains to the point. The same can be said for Bona, which continues to stand strong against the test of time.
As far back as the 1980s, Brocka has been discussing sociopolitical topics that are still being dissected to this day. Although being ahead of the time was never the intention, his dedication to the country and his cinematic vision far exceeded such a distinction. It might be possible to conclude that he was more grounded in the present at his time than anyone else in the industry, never compromising his firm beliefs and principles for the hardly sated demands of tomorrow's ease under a fascist climate.
But that "tomorrow" we've been collectively living for as Filipinos throughout the years, the one we've always been promised to look forward to, is actually the ground we stand on now. We delude ourselves into thinking it will get better tomorrow or the week after, leading us to become indifferent to our responsibility to move forward on that ground in the present. We have become die-hard fanatics of ineptitude and daylight corruption to the point where we consider justice to be better in memory and in anticipation.
Perhaps through the catharsis of Bona, we can, with all our might, pour our efforts to undo it little by little — and even boil our resolve with a healthy amount of anger to address it.
Lino Brocka’s ‘Bona’ was restored in 4K through a collaborative effort between Carlotta Films and Kani Releasing and premiered in the Philippines at the 20th Cinemalaya Philippine Independent Film Festival as its closing film.
