A strange, heady mix–part searing social realism, part noir-ish urban tragedy. Manila in the Claws of Light drops you straight into the grime and graft of 1970s Manila, where hope is rationed, and dreams are up for sale. Some scenes feel timeless, others a bit staged or clearly of their era, but the overall mood is haunting.
It reminded me of mid-century Japanese cinema–The Life of Ohara, Red Beard, Women of the Night–films that quietly observe suffering rather than sensationalise it. The pacing is slow, sometimes punishing, but builds to something raw, poetic and human.
By the end, I felt like I’d walked those streets myself–bruised, heavy, and strangely moved. It’s not always subtle, and some the acting leans theatrical, but a quiet fury hits hard here. Gritty, tragic, and well worth the journey–even if it leaves you winded.
Both these films are solid gold revelations if, like me, you have never seen any of Lino Brocka's movies.
'Insiang' is the tighter of the two and is simply stunning, a revenge tragedy packed with haunting images and set in the poorest shanty town in Manila. The film is intoxicatingly sensual and visceral, from the shocking abattoir opening scene onwards.
The sexual candour in both films is refreshing and honest.
'Manila in the Claws of Light' (what a great title) is more sprawling and picaresque, but we are never in any doubt that Brocka's sympathies are with the poor, the downtrodden and the desperate.
I only hope that more of Brocka's films can be made available.