Written by Cas Aseoche
Contains major spoilers
Pepe Diokno’s Isang Himala has just won 4th Best Picture in the Gabi ng Parangal for this year’s Metro Manila Film Festival (MMFF).
If the title isn’t obvious yet, the film is an adaptation of the culturally iconic Himala by Ishmael Bernal back in the MMFF of 1982. The original writer for Himala, Ricky Lee, co-wrote the stage musical adaptation alongside Vincent De Jesus. Starring Aicelle Santos as Elsa, David Ezra as Orly, Noemi Gonzales as Chayong, and Kakki Teodoro as Nimia, the principal cast stem from theatre backgrounds, all reprising their original roles from stage to screen.
I was lucky to have been able to watch said cast during their run at the Circuit Makati Black Box Theatre back in October 2019, and my feelings before mirror my exact feelings now watching the play on screen:
Isang Himala is one truly haunting musical with a story that deserved to be told in its original conception in 1982, all the way to its staging in 2018-2019, and especially now in 2024.
We all know how the story goes: Elsa, a young woman from the dried-up small town of Cupang, claims to have seen the image of the Virgin Mary during an eclipse. She says she’s been granted healing powers through her, and the sensation takes over the town as news spreads across the country of her power. It causes both miracles and curses across the town until Elsa eventually admits that she has made up the miracle. She’s shot, and chaos ensues around her corpse.
In Pepe Diokno’s rendition, he was able to capture exactly the visual of the usual theatrical stage, using the setting of a cinematic sound stage. Bird’s eye view shots have a low focal point, making their set appear like clay and cardboard miniatures that stagehands built just for the show; the lighting design appears as spotlights during a solo performance of a song, easing in as if the lighting director himself casts it in his tech booth. To put it briefly, Diokno’s careful direction is exactly what a stage-to-screen may look like if it didn’t forget its roots as a theatrical play.
The sound design is what hammers in the haunting tone of the story and its message, its orchestrations pounding in your ears as the heartfelt singing of the stellar cast takes you along the film.
Aicelle Santos as Elsa is reserved, and you’re at the edge of your seat at how she refuses to break—even until the end, there’s no real way of telling if her Walang Himala monologue was to simply put a stop to the mass hysteria, or if it was the truth and she saw nothing after all. Her solo is the only window to her soul, bearing the possibility of her having told the truth all along, but facing the effects of the fact anyway.
Her performance is a foil to Kakki Teodoro’s Nimia, who speaks her feelings and truth everywhere she goes. She acts as an open book, to the point one of her performances directly has her singing how Elsa’s just like her: a performer, selling herself for everyone else’s satisfaction, and never truly finding her own. Nimia shows that they’ve both just made do with what society has thrown at and assumed of them, and it can’t be their fault for at the very least turning it around to benefit their necessities in life.
Rounding out the Tres Marias is Chayong, played by Noemi Gonzales. She’s quiet, prayerful, and earnest, and acted as a mediator between Nimia and Elsa when the three were kids—however, in the current setting of the movie, only Elsa and Chayong remain friends, while a disagreement in the far past was what separated Nimia from them. When Chayong meets her end, Noemi Gonzales’ performance gripped the hearts of the entire cinema crowd. Her voice trembles, but her eyes look more sure than she’s ever been seen throughout the movie.
Later on, as Elsa and Nimia encounter each other at Chayong’s grave, she is still able to become the mediator between the two, who console each other and rekindle their friendship. They both learn how alike all three of them were and grew to be through what society threw towards them as time passed.
The film concludes impactfully, as Elsa performs the Walang Himala monologue. The crowd has their arms stretched out, hands praying over Elsa as if she’s a messenger of the gods; the town’s priest is at a loss after failing to convince people to come back to the church rather than praise their new idol; the filmmaker from Manila, Orly (played by David Ezra), rolls his film as he always has throughout the whole movie, documenting the rise of Elsa all the way to what’s soon to be her fall.
Elsa exclaims her truth, and things turn into chaos. She tells the crowd, both locals and tourists alike, that there is no true miracle—that miracles are made by people who choose to believe in them, and likewise curses are made by people who believe them to be curses. We’re all socially inclined towards thinking our own mistakes are to blame on a curse, and our own achievements must be thanks to a being higher than you (whether it be a politician, a celebrity, or a God).
Her truth is cut short when Elsa is shot, and the crowd turns from disbelief in Elsa to disbelief in the loss of her. They refuse to heed her truth and proclaim her to be a saint and a martyr. Her mother tries to shield her from the screaming masses as a fight breaks out around her, and children get lost amid the stampede that harms a lot of the sick and weary who only wished to be healed. The mayor of the town tries to escape with the donation box for Elsa’s service but gets shot along the way out.
The crowd manages to get ahold of Elsa’s body, and her mother desperately tries to get her back. As the scene plays out, I think to myself if they’ll recreate the iconic shot of Elsa appearing as the crucified image of Jesus—and they do, with their own take on it. Everything starts in slow motion as if it just dawned on everyone what just happened, but as the people grow rowdier so does the pacing. Orly’s own shots in the film are interspersed with the scene and the speed returns to normal. The cries of the people aren’t muffled anymore, and the wave of people under Elsa’s spread-out body no longer looks gentle.
They pull at Elsa’s body, attempting to touch her and feel healed, hoping for a grasp of who they’ve made their idol, their hero, their savior. The crowd overcomes her, and her body’s no longer seen as it falls to the ground from everyone’s furious movement. They’ve all bitten off more than they could chew. Elsa’s mother manages to make her way back to her daughter, and she cradles her head the same way Mary mourns her son Jesus.
The backdrop of all the hysteria is the closing number sung by the ensemble, echoing Elsa’s monologue back to the audience over and over again.
Hihintayin mo ba bumaba ang kamay ng Diyos sa langit? […] O sapat na ba ang wagas ng pag-ibig? Isang himala. Ang himala ay nasa puso ng tao, ang bawat tao ay pugad ng himala.
In the movie’s very last shot, Orly’s camera points forward, rolling its film toward the audience before he lowers it, staring right at you. It’s as if he asks what the future will do with what we’ve seen and learned from the movie. It’s as if he shows that the past makes the present, but also builds our future, and we need to make sure we learn from both to ensure a brighter one. Our history is just as relevant in sealing our fate back then in 1982, as it is in sealing it now in 2024, and in years to come.
Will you fight to build your own miracle despite the curses you’ve faced, or stay cursing others for the miracles they don’t give you?
What will you do with an inkling of the miracle of wisdom the movie has provided you?
Do you have a story for the WhenInManila.com Team? Email us at wheninmanila@gmail.com or send us a direct message on WhenInManila.com Facebook Page. Interact with the team and join the WhenInManila.com Community at WIM Squad! We also share our stories on Viber, join us!
