In horror, sincerity stands as the most welcoming and, simultaneously, repelling factor for a genre filmmaker. Terror is forthright; this fundamental directness of the genre both introduces to and restricts itself from countless possibilities. Explaining then how few sincerely understand the business of fear; how few of them succeed.
Then what, of Siquijor: Mystic Island, certainly the work of a skilled technician (Filipino-Australian filmmaker Mark Philipp Espina) who by least understands the mechanics of light, motion and frames? The cinematography — riddled with noise and grimy, rough edits — is being irrelevantly likened to the cinéma vérité of the seminal The Blair Witch Project; when it warrants recognition on its own, if only for its precise use, elevating the film to such aesthetic heights which are also portentous to Brillante Mendoza’s visual styling. Jerrold Tarog’s sound design, completing a fine work for such a modest production.
Yet the devil, as they say, is in the details; and most crucially so for the horror film, in that of the narrative, which could not help at all: Siquijor, essentially, is made up of curious characters poorly fleshed-out. There is little empathy permitted to the audience about these characters and seeing through their individual fraught is the film’s largest deprivation. Sid Lucero (Norte, Hangganan ng Kasaysayan), for instance, plays the role of a closeted script writer; he is revealed to have AIDS (which could have been an ideal opportunity to expound on his crises), but left ultimately unexplored.
The story, whilst simple enough, turns a ninety-minute run-time into a laborious task of anticipation of the characters’ grotesque endings. It finds a crew for a paranormal reality-television show haunted by an unknown entity after they visit Siquijor, the presumed home of native witchcraft and the supernatural. There is a romantic arc involving producer Doreen (Angel Aquino) with director and former flame Xavier (Ian Veneracion), which is also abandoned upon the crew’s return to Manila.
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There is little character to drive a film like Siquijor: Mystic Island forward. One cannot see through the individual crises of its characters, nor discern the sincerity of their fears; one does not understand where those come from. Suffice to say, the writing in the film (a collaboration between Adolf Alix Jr. and Espina) is weak and ramshackle. In entire effect, we have at hand what feels like a horrific guessing game, with a confused wink-at-the-end tinge of commentary. For a somewhat improved iteration, see Mendoza’s Sapi.
Trailer: ‘Siquijor Mystic Island’ from Mark Espina on Vimeo.
