13/09/2022 - VENICE 2022: We spoke to the Filipino auteur – famous for his epic-length works – about his long-awaited new feature, a revenge story set amidst the country’s narco-wars

(© La Biennale di Venezia/Foto ASAC/Giorgio Zucchiatti)

Despite not having seen Lav Diaz’s entire filmography (a medal of some kind and a bottle of champagne are needed for whoever has!), this writer can confidently say that, in addition to When the Waves Are Gone [+see also:
film review
interview: Lav Diaz
film profile] being one of Diaz’s closest to an authentic crime-thriller or policier, it’s also a title in his filmography especially inspired by his pre-filmmaking experiences in journalism. Crime journalism, and the “police beat”, specifically, with its most important supporting character being a young photojournalist covering the endless narco-wars of his country, the Philippines, at great risk to his life. Diaz was in a very relaxed mood as we spoke to him last week about his out-of-competition Venice Film Festival feature.

Cineuropa: How long has this project been in the works? I recall it being announced a while ago. And did the pandemic disrupt its progress?
Lav Diaz: We started six years ago, but not actually shooting. When I had a concept, an idea, I wrote it and shared it with Filipina producer Bianca Balbuena. I said, “Can you help me? I have this gangster film.” It’s a simple revenge story, in which two friends who betrayed each other have a reckoning. We were able to gather the money, but the two actors I wanted to work with weren’t available, as they were doing TV and some movies. I said, “Okay, let’s move on; we’ll leave this thing for a while.”

One day, Bianca said she had a little money again, so we could work on it. I was working on other films, so I waited again. Then, two years ago, the Taal volcano erupted, and that was a good start! So we went to the volcano and started shooting. The actor I wanted to work with came along, and we were able to pass the military cordon obstructing the area. So we shot some scenes – and the lead role changed into an investigator who’s come to this place to investigate a cold case. And then the pandemic hit, and we stopped shooting. It took us months to get going again.

In November 2020, I wanted to continue making the film. I went to an island and stayed there for two months, doing location scouting. In January 2021, I called up the actors and all of the people: “Get ready, get your swab tests.” They all came and brought everything we needed. We were preparing, and then disaster struck: three of our workers got COVID. We had to quarantine for ten days, and then for another 14 days, and finally we were able to start shooting. We finished the whole thing after spending a month there, then we went to Lisbon to shoot some additional scenes. That was for an extension of the work – involving another investigator, a Portuguese one. The real cut is nine hours long. But the middle part stands on its own two feet, so I took it out and it became the film. Another movie is coming in 2023 that will connect everything!

How close of an adaptation is the film to its source, The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas, in its fine details?
I actually didn’t think of The Count of Monte Cristo when I was making it – it’s a simple revenge story. I’m pretty much inspired by the works of Dostoevsky. I consider my kind of filmmaking like writing a novel: I create real characters, the characters are fleshed out, and we see them living in the film.

The contrast between the photojournalist and the two cops is very interesting. Is the former meant to represent something more virtuous in Filipino society? A younger generation who feel they can draw attention to the corruption?
The character of the photojournalist is real: his name is Raffy Lerma. Before I started shooting the film, I was talking to him. “Raffy, I want you to be part of the movie.” I was inspired so much by his own books, the chronicles of the killings. But he’s a very shy person, and he didn’t want to act. I said, “You just talk, and I will record you talking.” He said, “No, someone should act for me in the film.” So I inserted a real character, Raffy Lerma, performed by someone who looks very much like him, and he allowed me to use the photos.

Can you tell us about the difficult-to-watch scenes with Macabanty [Ronnie Lazaro] and the sex workers? The baptisms?
Those characters – you always work with archetypes from your society. You see them everywhere: sex workers, criminals. I was a police beat worker as a young journalist. I was writing about prostitution and crime – petty crimes, big murders, everything. I saw these things for myself. I understand the culture, the underbelly and the police executions. For me, writing the film was quite easy – it’s just an extension of the work.