People tend to rationalize their world. We believe that all things are part of a grand narrative of life and that everything we see is a speck of a larger scheme. We work under this premise and search how history and future can be traced from our cultural artifacts, relics, or even daily objects. This search is continuous. Mapping out this intricate web might take some time to finish.
One idea that puzzles scholars and academics is the definition of being a Filipino (or Filipino identity). We are a nation colonized by three countries each leaving behind diverse traces of their culture. As a result, our values, concept of justice, and definition of development differs largely. Identifying a particular national identity would create unity among Filipinos and it shall create a stronger notion of being a community member. In the 21st century, it is interesting to look at what our treasured cultural materials tell about our identity. Such artifacts can provide us rich insights on how much past do we like to bring in the future.
Both in manga and in television series, Attack on Titan won over fans all over the world for presenting a post-apocalyptic story discussing human nature, inevitable death, and a haunting past of humankind. The live-action film adaptation cannot bank on this superb narrative as it is dragged down by a failed CGI animation.
An orphan resides in a church in the absence of a house. He cohabits with an old caretaker who mostly skulks around. Their friendship builds a cinema image that is too familiar in mainstream films but is surprisingly effective to an indie cinema audience.
Kyel offers its viewers a 15-minute scene on how an addict loses his mind while waiting for his Rona. It is in this that the filmmakers hope viewers to see beyond addiction. It is obvious, they dream to be profound.