Spectrum review - DESAPARADISO by Khavn

The most productive and versatile of Filipino filmmakers returns with what could perhaps be his most "serious" film to date. His latest work Desaparadiso had its world premiere in the Spectrum section of the 44th International Film Festival Rotterdam.
 
The title of Khavn's latest work literally means "no heaven". Once again, he returnes to delve upon the black years of Ferdinand Marcos' dictatorship in the Philippines and their long lasting repercussions on the country. As the film's titular pun points out, he draws inspiration from the people that were kidnapped during those years, many of whom were tortured and killed or never found. Those who returns showed clear signs of physical and mental scarring. Desaparadiso focuses on one such story, and in particular it is the story of a man who sets off to find his disappeared brother in a mysterious forest.
 
Once again, Khavn returns to the scene with a film that is influenced by genre films. Here, the influence comes from adventure matinees, myths and fairytales and this influence is most prominent in the second part of the movie where the filmmaker unleashes a lot of the elements that define the outrageous and eccentric visual style of his colourful previous works - and this can be seen from the use of music to the use of the exaggeratedly carnivalesque costumes. 

 

Yet, this film is far more restrained than arguably all his works to date. Here, Khavn seems to have reached a thought proviking maturity that allows him not only to engage in the film in a real time meditative way with his audience, but also challenge them with greatly compelling experimental techniques - such as one that is features in the first part of Desaparadiso, which is shot in black and white and with inaudible dialogue as the sound is taken over by loud radio static which is not only a character in the film in its own right, but also a comment on the uselessness and shallowness of newscasts and media at the time of the dictatorship as well as the silence that still envelops the years of the Marcos dictatorship both nationally and internationally.
 
The film is also marked by more fantastic and even poetic representations that draw inspirations from old myths and legends. But the whole thing is impressively preceded by a haunting introduction that could in fact have stood on its own two feet as an amazing short archive documentary, accompanied by darkly evocative piano drones and a piece of poetry that illustrates the trauma this country suffered. Desaparadiso is challenging, experimental, provocative and undoubtedly eccentric. Yet, despite the eccentricity, there is a type of arthouse grace that accompanies it and ultimately makes it very rewarding.