‘Kono Basho’ REVIEW: This must be the place (for healing)
‘Kono Basho’ REVIEW: This must be the place (for healing)
Ella (Gabby Padilla) and Reina (Arisa Nakano) in Kono Basho / Photo courtesy of Kono Basho Marketing
Healing is a process that comes in waves, and sometimes it can feel like it has settled into a specific place. Since the pandemic, I have developed a deep affinity for stories that explore grief and healing in any form.
Films like Inside Llewyn Davis resonated with me, even though my grief was entirely different. I was grieving for a relationship that ended, moments that could’ve been shared with my closest friends, celebrating my early twenties, living a little and experiencing what the outside world had to offer. It took a while for me to pick myself up, and it was opening my eyes to the cinema that made me feel at home.
When the world outside wasn’t made available for us, we had the beauty of films opening itself up to us in our tiny, little homes. To me, the world became a little less lonely with the company of comfort films that I would rewatch over and over again and newly discovered films that I regret not seeing earlier. Maybe I didn’t have to go through this process of healing alone after all.
We connect to stories about grief and healing because they resonate with our personal experiences of loss and recovery. Going into Kono Basho, the feature film debut of multimedia artist, educator, and filmmaker Jaime Pacena II, I was intrigued by how it tackles the subject matter.
Kono Basho follows the reunion of two half-sisters, Filipina anthropologist Ella (Gabby Padilla) and Japanese painter Reina (Arisa Nakano), at their father’s funeral. They grieve respectively, but ultimately find solace in the bond of going through grief together. It tells the story of family, loss, and resiliency, along with the Filipino diaspora amidst the aftermath of the March 2011 tsunami in Rikuzentakata, Japan.
Gabby as Ella in Kono Basho / Photo courtesy of Kono Basho Marketing
A striking visual and auditory experience highlights the story’s language barriers. The film’s first half becomes this push-and-pull between Ella and Reina, finding ways to connect despite the differences in language. We, as the audience, want them to have a shared connection early on. But it was this slow and silent progression that would keep us on our toes. In itself, we get to experience the struggles of wanting to connect with a person, and with the hindrances of language and understanding, we can only lend our hearts and minds to feel and listen.
The film’s Japanese title, which translates to “This Place,” isn’t just about finding a place of healing, but reflects on the displacement of people in Rikuzentakata to a different place. A crisis of identity comes into the mix. And with our two leads, they also get to embody being lost and displaced.
Kono Basho offers the country of Japan in a different light, away from the glitz and glamor of cities such as Tokyo and Osaka. It’s a personal tale for Pacena II, who drew inspiration from the time he was in Japan researching Rikuzentakata. As a visual artist, he has collected years’ worth of photos and videos as physical and visual memories. This becomes a central theme in the film.
Arisa as Reina in Kono Basho / Photo courtesy of Kono Basho Marketing
I remember what documentary filmmaker Kristoffer Brugada told us in a documentary filmmaking workshop for school: “Memory has the power to lock us in the past or move us forward.” Memory becomes this powerful thing we dearly hold. But the thing about memory is that it comes in different ways. Ella remembers a father who left her at an early age. Reina remembers a father who had stayed with them until his dying days in Japan. Memory can be a beautiful thing, but it can also trap us in staying confined to the past, without ever feeling hopeful for the future.
Aside from the film’s thematic storytelling, audiences may also resonate with the film’s visual presence. Kono Basho is beautifully shot and that can be attributed to Dan Villegas returning to his role as a cinematographer. The film captures solace and silence with calming exteriors and environments that may seem new to us. Meanwhile, the film’s quiet moments are complemented by the score, which adds a sense of character to the film’s overall tone. While we don’t get heightened, dramatic banters between our characters, the score somehow represents what they would want to say.
Reina and Ella from a distance / Photo courtesy of Kono Basho Marketing
Kono Basho shows promise in its first half, but it can be quite a bumpy road after that. The film has a habit of using exposition and seemingly abrupt, sudden explanations to move the story forward. Padilla thrives with monologues and her performance as Ella is no stranger to that. We do get more of her character and perspective of fitting in this new environment she’s in.
Character revelations may come out of nowhere with little to no build-up. This contrasts sharply with the film's first half, which is slow, steady, and silent. The second half feels rushed as if it’s trying to resolve everything quickly. I wish there had been more time to explore the development of Ella and Reina’s bond as half-sisters.
Ella and Reina walk together on a bridge / Photo courtesy of Kono Basho Marketing
While we eventually get there, the payoff would have been much better if the film had taken its time to flesh out the characters and story beats before concluding. It feels as if it needed to have a sense of weight with the third act, concerning a character’s decision. It feels like it is shoehorned for the plot when the film would’ve benefited from taking this part out entirely.
Ultimately, Kono Basho excels at using quiet moments for reflection, immersing us in its universal story of grief and healing. While it may not turn out as smoothly as I had hoped, there is promise in seeing more stories about healing and hope in Philippine cinema.
Kono Basho premiered at the 20th Cinemalaya Independent Film Festival as part of the Full Length Main Competition category. Catch it in select Ayala Malls cinemas from August 2-11.
