The Metro Manila Film Festival commemorated its 50th edition with a bang, generating significant buzz in the news and on social media. Whether these issues cast the household-name festival in a good or bad light, they essentially reflect its strong relevance among local filmmakers and audiences.
A Facebook friend jokingly posted that he has no essay-writing contest entry on the movie Green Bones (starring Dennis Trillo and Ruru Madrid), which won the most awards among the latest set of competing films, including entries featuring icons Vilma Santos (Uninvited) and Vic Sotto (The Kingdom).
Another Santos (Judy Ann) beating Vilma, along with Eugene Domingo landing a spot among Philippine cinema legends honored for their contributions to MMFF’s continuing success, prompted netizens to react. These days, controversies seem to develop more quickly—all it takes is a bunch of people with too much time on their hands, believing they’re as good as the experts. Everyone is entitled to their opinion, after all. Still, it’s unfortunate that some opinions are trash and better left unsaid.
I choose not to join the bandwagon or comment on the controversies surrounding one of the entries or the people behind it. Instead, I delved into the intriguing history of the MMFF, revisiting past controversies that either marred the year-end spectacle or made it more worthy of discussion.
I casually browsed through the Wikipedia entry on MMFF and found some fascinating tidbits, a few of which I’ll mention here and share my thoughts on.
During the third edition of the festival in 1977, the late Lino Brocka walked out of the awarding ceremonies and expressed his outrage at head judge Rolando Tinio after Celso Ad Castillo’s Burlesk Queen won most of the awards, while Brocka’s entry Inay went home empty-handed. Even a legend can be a sore loser. That said, Lino was undeniably a brilliant director, and his passing derailed the progress of Filipino filmmaking.
The following year, Nora Aunor won Best Performer for Atsay, defying predictions by fortune-tellers on a popular talk show who claimed Vilma Santos would win for Rubia Servios. How unfortunate that movie critics’ job of making fearless forecasts was overshadowed by pure guesswork involving perlas na bilog!
In 1986, MMFF opted not to award trophies for Best and Second Best Picture, Best Story, and Best Screenplay. The jurors noted that none of the seven entries deserved recognition in these categories. Somehow, the real-life EDSA Revolution that year turned out to be far more cinematic.
Just two years later, unknown character actor-director Baldo Marro beating the acclaimed Chito Roño raised eyebrows among film enthusiasts. But who says an unknown shouldn’t win it all?
In the early 2000s, a film cast walked out after revered novelist Lualhati Bautista failed to win Best Story and Best Screenplay for Dekada. Why can’t people simply express their disappointment after the ceremonies? Walking out isn’t making a statement; it’s just unprofessional.
A decade later, Tikoy Aguiluz declined his award for Best Director because his movie about Asiong Salonga was edited without his consent. That wasn’t the festival’s fault. Pride often breeds anger, and the editing done was merely sculpting from his woodwork.
Intriguing incidents have occurred throughout MMFF’s rich history. Such controversies have, in fact, helped shape the beloved festival into what it is today—a highly anticipated and revenue-generating event. There is always something to talk about, highlighting the intensity of the competition.
It’s fine to reflect the realities of Filipino life and the magic of star power through the entries. Personally, I hope MMFF consistently serves as a beacon of hope for the Philippine movie industry, raising the bar for filmmaking and producing generational talents. We don’t just need films that sell; we need films that inspire modern Filipinos to think deeper and act classier.