Movie: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral
Where Luna was a heavy metal concert that got the rakistas deep within each of us to scream out the lyrics ("Mga puñetang Amerikano!" and other classic hits), Goyo is a lesson in seduction, a sweet and sad kundiman (literally, at one point) that lulls you into its melody and allows your mind to wander into itself. Where Luna thrives on aggression and inspires firey feelings (how's that for alliteration and internal rhyme!), Goyo is thoughtful and somber, inspiring reflection and introspection. What are your motives? What are you fighting for? Who are you fighting for? Tandaan mo kung sino ka. Sino ka?
And I thought, for the most part, it worked!
Goyo vs Luna
Goyo as a movie wasn't as tightly knit as Luna, and it didn't need to be. Luna was set right in the middle of war. It had a clear plot with clear stakes you could follow and events were tied together in a cohesive narrative packed with action and suspense. Goyo, in contrast, occurs during a lull in the battle. I thought this was better suited to his character, as Luna thrives on war and conflict, whereas Goyo's story arc revolves around his youth.
Goyo as a character didn't really carry the movie the way Antonio Luna carried his. Some people will say Paulo Avelino didn't live up to John Arcilla, but I would say that he wasn't meant to. Goyo's character arc is very much a coming-of-age one: on one hand, it's impressive that he's achieved as much as he has at his age, but on the other, we see the tragic consequences of being forced to grow up because of war -- horrible PTSD and (at least the way I saw it) serial romanticism as a way of holding on to his youth.
Luna's journey was largely external: he was fighting the system from within and was tired of the status quo. The tone of the movie fits this struggle -- it is loud, full of (frankly, cathartic) curse words, and had insanely brutal fight scenes. Luna himself doesn't undergo any major changes internally, and he didn't need to. That wasn't what his story was about.
On the other hand, Goyo's journey was very much about how he changed internally: he's young, he grew up too fast, and he wanted to live a life free of war. And so the tone of the movie follows -- it is quiet (at times literally, as scenes go unscored), calmer in terms of dialogue, and the fight scenes, which already have minimal screen time, focused largely on strategy instead of all-out violence.
Where Luna was passion and frustration, Goyo was struggle and compassion. Where Luna inspires you to love your country enough to die for it, Goyo inspires you to love it enough to live for it.
Comparing the movies really deepens my appreciation for both. I probably wouldn’t have appreciated Goyo as much had it not come after Luna, so it actually had that going for it. If it's a matter of what I like better, to put it in more personal terms, if I need to get into the headspace where I wanna think, it would be Goyo. If I need to give myself a pep talk to inspire myself into action, it would be Luna.
All you need is love 🎺✨
Goyo's whole schtick is that he's a serial romantic. That's why casting Paulo Avelino works (because you can buy that this guy is popular) and that's the default Did You Know? fact they highlight in textbooks. Like I said, setting the movie during a lull in the war allowed them to really capitalize on this: there was space in the narrative for dancing and romancing, passive-aggressive conversations about mangoes (sad fact: this movie does not pass the Bechdel test), men tattling on each other, etc. I wish they had established Goyo's relationship with Remedios better because that came almost out of nowhere (I just went with it tbh), and I didn’t trust Goyo to deliver when he expressed his intentions of marrying her.
Goyo's arc eventually resolves in the realization that love can extend beyond self-interest and romance on a personal level, to a patriotic love that motivates soldiers in a literal war. I thought this was a very optimistic way of dealing with war. This is delineated on a grander level by Mabini when he criticizes Aguinaldo for being a slave to his personal interest instead of serving the country. Goyo sums it up best during the Battle at Tirad Pass: "Walang mga bayani sa bundok na ito. Tayo ay mga sundalo na puno ng pag-ibig, hindi ng galit." Let love motivate you, not hate. Fight for something, not just against something else. (And for Aguinaldo, Mabini practically says, "You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain." Ouch.)
Other technicalities and the BCU
Actors. Epy Quizon is so good at playing Mabini that I feel safe whenever he talks, even when his tone is rebuking. He plays the Grown-Up In The Room of the movie, and he does it well. He and Mon Confiado, who really balanced Aguinaldo's he's-a-villain-but-is-he-really-a-villain-but-is-he-not status as a hero, really stole the show for me.
Paulo Avelino was great as Goyo, though I'm not sure if the lack of depth I felt about his character was due to his acting or... something else I can't quite put my finger on. (I also want to mention that his accent while speaking Filipino put me off a little bit sometimes, but that's a minor thing. Right? I don't know how to write about that.) Carlo Aquino was great; you could feel Vicente Enriquez struggling with his loyalties even though it's never said out loud. He was also, almost weirdly, caring toward Joven (what was up with those two?). Joven is supposed to be our everyman, but I really need for him to pull it together, man. Lastly, returnees Ronnie Lazaro and Art Acuña were great. Particularly, Art Acuña was barely there but he was amazing as Manuel Bernal. He had two or three lines, but they understandably haunted Goyo, and myself, for the rest of the movie.
Shots. This didn't have any poignant scenes like the reenactment of Spoliarium, or that one-shot retelling of Luna's childhood, or the Philippine flag burning behind Aguinaldo, but it didn't really need to have those moments either. The pictures taken by Joven were a great little easter egg, but they didn't quite have the gravitas that the scenes I mentioned in Luna did. Except for the eagle soaring overhead every now and then (which was still pretty self-explanatory, I thought), this movie was pretty straightforward in terms of visuals.
Music. I also loved the music, and strategic lack thereof, in this movie. My favorite bit would have to be the frighteningly effective portrayal of PTSD using bamboo and the haunting rendition of Bato sa Buhangin at the end. It gave me the Feels and I needed some time to process it.
BCU 3: AvQ (Aguinaldo v Quezon). We have entered the all-caps portion of the review: THAT END CREDITS SCENE GOT ME SO HYPED. I love political/election fights in movies (almost as much as I love teambuilding montages!). I'm so excited. Was that TJ Trinidad in the Quezon poster?! Are both he and Benjamin Alves going to portray him?! Double timelines?! Where was this excitement for history when I was studying it!
Present-day context (aka, "Hala, bakit ang relevant?")
In stark contrast to the emotional punch of Heneral Luna, it is never easy to figure out how you're supposed to feel at any given point in Goyo. Some things are made explicit -- the rejection of idolatry and self-interest, the importance of motivation even in the context of war -- but they don't specifically spoon-feed the audience.
The movie was careful to avoid being preachy. It keeps the gray areas and, in a sense, is self-critical. Joven himself criticizes Luna, arguing that passion is useful insofar as we do not allow ourselves to slaves to it. The Americans, though they are the common enemy, are not portrayed as mindless -- or even heartless -- killing machines: they let Garcia's son go, allowed Enriquez and co. to bury their fellow soldiers, and one soldier was even going to give the letter to Felicidad when he thought she was Goyo's S.O. The guides who show the Americans around, something that eventually leads to Goyo’s death, are Filipinos.
It made me feel squirmy inside and I struggled with identifying what I was feeling. I needed some time and conversations to be able to process the movie, but I think that's how it's supposed to be: it's supposed to make you think and reflect. The question now is whether we're ready to examine ourselves as a nation and think about what the movie is telling us.
Mabini puts it best: "Handa na ba ang mga Pilipino na marinig ang katotohanan nang hindi mapipikon?"
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