“Herauf unten rundes und rundes”

(“Up, Down, Round and Round”)

My next film was chosen as one of the 3 project highlights in the Berlinale, with Margie doing the pitching in early Feb. Not jealous at all about that. I hate pitching.

More on the selection here.

In preparation for the pitch, had drinks the other night with Bing Lao, with whom we’re consulting for the script. In two hours of conversation Monster and I had a master class on screenwriting. Bing of course is one of our best writers, having done Serbis, Jeffrey Jeturian’s films Pila Balde and Tuhog, and consulted on the screenplays of Kubrador (also by Jeff) and Francis X’s Jay. Though I’ve met him before there’s still a degree of being starstruck. And of course hearing him praise my first film was very flattering.

We talked about real people and real situations, how it will take a hundred years before a wide audience would appreciate the movies we make, his next movie about a doomed bus ride (one to look out for definitely), and how long it takes for him to write.

On the way home I got the feeling I was shaken awake.

The Long Journey Home

Due to a breakdown in communication with Air France, my trip home is thus: Friday, catch a train at 10 PM in Paris to arrive in Nantes at midnight Saturday. Wait for six hours before flying from Nantes back to Paris. Layover in Paris hour two hours, then off to Amsterdam, layover of 3 hours. Then finally the long trip to Manila.

Grand total: 27 hours of nothing but plains, trains, automobiles and airports. Sounds like fun?

Leg 1. Paris-Nantes

9:56 PM Friday
Started off bad, as I miscalculated the time it takes the no. 12 train to take me 17 stations from Marx Dormoy to Montparnasse, as a result I had to jog all the way to the right platform, and then the right car (which was the last in a looong line of cars). As a result, I sweat like a pig for the first time in two weeks.

My host for my return to Paris was Antoine, Raya Martin’s producer. Both are extremely gracious. I went with the Raymond, producer of Endo, and the lead actors Jason and Ina; they stayed with Hazel, a bagong bayani. Hazel and her friends are wonderful. They took us around, Filipino style. The night we arrived I had the best meal I’ve had in Europe: hot, heartwarming Pinoy food.

Drunk and glad to see fellow Pinoys: husband and wife JR and Sheryl, and host Hazel.

Hazel and company are wonderful. Happy, funny, extremely accommodating to strangers like ourselves; the fact is, Pinoy kami, and that’s enough for them to embrace us. They’re amazing. They even treated us to an expensive dinner.

Took some meetings with other filmmakers/producers in the city, and in between I walked the Seine again. This city is really stunning, by far it’s the most beautiful city I’ve been. i don’t have enough adjectives. Ended my trip at Jardines des Plantes, a botanical garden/zoo next to the Museum of Natural History. It’s huge with manicured lawns and trees shed of summer leaves. The building is magnificent, as usual. Threw out a little word of thanks while at one of the benches. It seems like I’m enjoying the gardens most.

At the end of the trip though I’ve had enough of Europe: resorting to sign language in order to communicate, FREEZING, wearing the same 10 pieces of clothes. Done, absolutely done with all of it.

I’m done with washing underwear and drying them over the heater.

Leg 2. Nantes-Paris

12:18 AM Saturday

Not in the greatest of moods, outside Nantes Atlantique.

Train pulled in to a raining Nantes. Cab to the airport was 43 Euro- 2,700 pesos! And I’d run out of Euros and had only 38. Thankfully the cab driver was cool with it. Unfortunately I had no money at all to buy a drink or eat, as I was dying to do both.

12:40 AM
Nantes Atlantique airport is deserted. There’s no one here. Just me and a floor cleaner. Four hours till the check-in counter opens. Seven till the money exchange opens. And I’m really thirsty and starving.

4:44 AM
Napped, I think. I don’t know if I actually fell asleep. A rowdy group of Russians chose, out of all the empty seats in the entire building, to sit and drink whiskey next to me. Forced to sit up. As I observed them I noticed an Asian dude with proper English- Pinoy! Did some small talk though I was really eyeing his bottle of water. Haha. So I asked for a drink. And being Pinoy, he gave me a bottle. Friendly Russian guy offered me whiskey. How can I resist?

At the check-out counter, had my most successful conversation in French. Bonjour, quelle-heure est ouvrir? I asked the lady. Yadda yadda quinze minute. Ah, merci. Yadda Yadda Paris? Oui.

A breakthrough, ladies and gentlemen!

Leg 3. Paris-Amsterdam

9:51 AM
When I landed a while back I felt a little pissed, why am I back here just 12 hours after I left. Legs hurt. Too much walking the past couple of days. Toes feel impacted, wanna take my shoes off. Really sleepy now, unfortunately none of the layovers and flights are long enough for me to get a satisfying nap.

Great looking airport though.

Leg 4. Amsterdam-Manila

11:25 AM
Yehey! Last leg. While typing the last entry I fell asleep. On the plane, as soon as I strapped in, I slept and woke up to the landing wheels skidding on the tarmac. Sana ganun lagi ang plane trips.

Amsterdam Schipol airport isn’t as large as CDG, it’s a lot nicer too. And, there’s a smoking area. That’s what I love about Europe. Walang respeto sa air. Perhaps because it’s too cold to smoke outside. I was told though that now they’re enforcing a no smoking in public areas rule in France, too bad.

While Manila was experiencing earthquakes, typhoons and coup d’etats, I myself am having the same in my mind (Let’s let that bad metaphor go okay? I’m sleep deprived). In Nantes we learned about making movies for the world.

Some of the Produire Au Sud gang, after one of our last dinners in Nantes: (L-R) Margie, Brazilian producer Mario,
his director Marina, translator Karim, Bolivian producer Roxana, Egyptian producer Maggie.

The commonality of experiences between our countries wasn’t surprising. We all struggle to make the movies we want. We’re all outsiders in our mainstream industries. We all have strange, wicked stories that are will never get produced with local money. Our stories have sea monsters, children addicted to saints, stoplight gangs, lonely substitute teachers, tyrannical despots who just want to be loved. Our own personal struggles are unfortunate, and sadly typical all over the developing world: a largely unsupportive government, projects languishing in development hell.

It’s all difficult to process: The workshop itself is a master class. Your classmates are fierce, up and coming independent filmmakers. The persons invited to speak are co-producers, key heads of Pandora, Arte and FondSud. Though we’ve learned much from the speakers, we learned as much from each other and from the wonderful, excellent movies in the Festival itself. The passion beats hard: No one is making money, but we plod on. We make our movies because there is no other choice.

This was an experience that ripped my eyes open to the possibilities. I thought that the Philippines was all, that it was it. Cinemalaya, Indie Sine, that was it. Ang liit pala ng mundo ko. The world is huge. Pinoy movies need to be seen everywhere. But for them to see it we have to bring it to them. It’s time to make Pinoy movies for the world.

9:45 AM Sunday

Home sweet home! I love Manila. I thought it would be hot, but not at all. Finally I’ll be able to get some sleep.

Still not over my France trip. Next time: The film festival itself, and a sampling of the food.

Day 4 – Walking in Nantes

I’m walking in Nantes, but do I really feel the way I feel.

Some photos.

Streets are much narrower and are quite old. Obviously built hundreds of years ago and made only for people and horse carriages. As a result the city layout is confusing. Not a grid. But still, very pretty.

More street cafe action.

A part of the city was built in medieval times, and it’s amazing how it’s preserved, as above.

And here. French people are a bit funny. They stare, and when you smile at them, they seem a bit baffled and don’t know what to do. But they’re not rude at all as their reputation says. They’re very friendly once you get them going.

Me and a castle. Yes, a medieval castle. Chateau des Ducs de Bretagne. Inside is a museum depicting the history of Nantes. I didn’t understand most of it as it was in French. But still, I’ve never been inside a castle before.

The light shining through a castle window.

More of the castle.

Cathedrale St. Pierre-St. Paul. Unfortunately, it was closed when I got there. Done in the same style as the Notre Dame

I forget what this one is but it’s beautiful.

The cathedral.

My favorite place so far. Jardins des Plantes. Like a small Central Park, but just as beautiful. I spent a long time sitting here and just watching, listening.

C’est moi in the Jardin.

I sat here scribbling madly in my notebook, a lot of thanks, a lot of thoughts about my project Akyat-Baba, Paikot-ikot, about film in general.

Some Cole Haan ducks were swimming around. This class duck is for Gigi.

Cemeterie La Boutellierie. Some of the headstones are more than a hundred years old.

I forgot what this one is called too. Place (“plahs”) something. Places are like little squares except it’s a rotonda, where many of the confusing small streets converge. Invariably there’s a monument like this one, or a historic building of some kind.

The main street, Cours de Cinquante Otage. the widest in the city I’ve seen. Lots of trams, it’s tree-lined, and again the gorgeous buildings.

Passage Pommeraye. It’s a mall, but it’s two hundred years old.

That’s it for now. Tomorrow: Produire Au Sud begins.