During my recent meet-up with ex-college classmates, one of them, usually reserved and tepid by nature, was uncharacteristically raving about Jerrold Tarog’s “Quezon” which he had already watched twice. It was, he said, “powerful.” Moved by this endorsement, my other ex-classmate went to watch it right after our lunch get together at a nearby theater. That evening, he texted to me his curt review: “not powerful.”

Then in the days that followed, a direct descendant of President MLQ angrily talked back to the director and actor of “Quezon” claiming that the movie sullied his grandfather’s reputation. It was just a little tempest in a teacup, so to speak, but the chatterati of social media picked it up and the buzz about the movie got sustained for a while longer among pop historians, academicians and movie buffs. There was even speculation that the filmmaker’s next opus in his so-called “bayaniverse” would be about Ramon Magsaysay.

Within the same timeframe, I came across a column extolling the film “Lakambini.” Reading it, I learned about a new cinema genre: meta documentary fiction, which I assume is just another term for “creative play” or “creative license” to avoid the writer and filmmaker from being constrained by historical facts as well as being accused later of distorting them.

This to me is an exciting development. Maybe this is the opportune time for Filipino history-inspired narratives. Is there already a critical mass of “woke” Filipinos now more receptive to novels, plays and films based on our pantheon of textbook heroes?

Heartened by this turn of events, a film director friend of mine suddenly called me to inquire about my film script about Diego Silang. “Maybe,” my friend told me, “People now might be more interested in historical films.“ Years before the pandemic, the two of us had been pitching the project but got nowhere. We also had one shelved treatment on a TV series on the late Ka Luis Taruc focusing on his Hukbalahap years.

I’m sure there are other writers and creative people waiting for the right time to put the lives of such intriguing characters as Marcelo H. del Pilar, Graciano Lopez Jaena, Mariano Ponce or Epifanio de los Santos on screen or books. The dark, tragic tale of painter Antonio Luna and Maria de la Paz Pardo de Tavera would be something to depict and explore on a play or film.

Maybe a Bicolano novelist or filmmaker can do an arresting movie on the so-called the Quince Martires of Bicol, who were executed by firing squad in Bagumbayan on January 4, 1897, where Jose Rizal was shot to death just 5 days later.   

Maybe a writer from the Ilocos can bring to spotlight the forgotten Pedro Bukaneg, Ilokano poet, orator, musician, lexicographer, and linguist, considered as the father of Ilocano literature. What is fascinating about him is that he was blind since birth, which lends his life a Homeric dimension.

Why not go back further into past history? I remember a short piece entitled “I, Sulayman” by the late Adrian E. Cristobal on the last ruler of Manila who resisted subjugation to Legazpi but eventually lost his kingdom in the battle against the invaders. The fact that he married the daughter of the Sultan of Borneo and became a son-in-law would make any narrative depiction that much more fascinating and absorbing.

Come to think of it, a daring Filipino producer or an enlightened TV network can come up with a riveting series revolving around the three rulers of pre-Spanish kingdom of Manila: Rajah Matanda, Rajah Sulayman (also known as Rajah Mura), and Lakandula who co-ruled as equals. Throw in Panday Pira who was commissioned by Sulayman to cast the cannons that were mounted on the palisades surrounding his kingdom.

Another entertaining series would be on Francisco Dagohoy of Bohol who led the longest native revolt in Philippine history (85 years) and was never captured.

But why limit it to textbook heroes? Our history is an enormously rich and fertile ground for mining captivating and compelling narratives.

Why not for instance produce a limited Netflix series on the so-called “Manila Men” or the “Luzones?” These were indios who worked in the Spanish Galleons which traversed the Pacific Ocean from Manila to Acapulco and then back. They were the first recorded people from Asia to set foot in what is now the United States, which makes us the first U.S. immigrants, predating the Mayflower exiles.

I am sure there are more young artists, writers, and filmmakers with nascent creative ideas based on Philippine history. Maybe these ideas have been shelved waiting, just like me, for that inflection moment when enough Filipinos would finally be ready for them and investors would be more predisposed to backing history-themed narratives.

What makes history-themed content now highly feasible to produce is Computer-Generated Imagery or CGI, fusing digital imagery/animation and live action shots seamlessly. Thanks to this ever-advancing technology, it’s now possible to bring to life any historical era including buildings, people, and period vehicles on the street, and yes, an entire town or city! A filmmaker can even create awesome epic-scale battle scenes without expensive set construction, costly special effects and pyrotechnics and the mobilization of a cast of thousands.

I sense that the Filipino, or at least the Gen Zees, mentally awakened by the widespread rot they now see in our government and in society might be ready for content that will not only entertain them but will make them think and reflect on the present by way of the past.

This should be the cue for the National Historical Commission and National Commission on Culture and the Arts to seize the day and ride this rising wave.

Wasn’t there a prize-giving body for books on Philippine history before? I still distinctly remember the poet Cirilo F. Baustista winning the 1998 Philippine Independence Centennial Literary Prize for his work “The Trilogy of Saint Lazarus” composed of three parts: The Archipelago, Telex Moon, and Sunlight on Broken Stones.

I also came across an item on social media about Young Historian’s Prize grants given by the NCCA, through the National Committee on Historical Research (NCHR) to recognize young writers between 21-40 years old for original work in the field of Philippine history and historiography intended to contribute to the enrichment of Philippine history and historiography.

Let’s pick it up from these laudable initiatives and think bigger, more ambitious and expansive.

Why not, for instance launch an annual heritage festival with sections on original history-themed films (feature length or shorts), books (essays and novels), graphic novels or komiks. While we’re at it, why not interactive computer games designed for young gamers?

Maybe NCCA and NHCP can allocate generous multi-media production grants without making artists go through the draining and exhausting process of bureaucratic red tape.

To avoid big budget allocations, the NCCA and NHCP can just latch on to existing indie festivals such as QCinema and Cinemalaya with a special section on history-themed full length and short films.

These cultural agencies can also collaborate with the National Book Awards and Palanca Awards to create special awards for outstanding history-themed novels or essays and plays.

So that visual artists won’t feel excluded, why not give attractive incentives for history-based paintings or murals? Perhaps our LGUs with funding from NCCA can mobilize young artists to make their local history come alive through murals and sculptures of significant local heroes or events. They could be the local equivalent of the late Carlos Celdran, cultural activist and popularizer of Philippine history.

Indeed, it’s time to release a flood of new novels, films, plays and even social media content about the heroic figures of our history textbooks whom we have elevated to mythic proportions. 

Let’s not constrain our artists but instead set them loose, creative wise. All we ask is that their works be factual but engrossing and entertaining, but more importantly, make them intelligent and provocative. If by that we mean disturbing, why not? Isn’t art meant to disturb the comfortable? The Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes puts it better: “Art gives voice to what history denied, silenced, or persecuted. Art brings truth to the lies of history.”

I don’t mind a little creative play on facts as long as the content triggers an illuminating conversation about us in the present. I would rather they err on the side of excess or enthusiasm than on safe, pious, platitudinous treatments. No matter how flawed the work may be, as long as it helps nurture and cultivate our historical consciousness. For the past is never past, it continues to shape the present in various ways, and we must think about the past as alive in the present.

Just one unsolicited piece of advice to budding artists of historical narratives out there. Learn from Athenian playwrights—Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides— who gave a powerful new expressiveness and a profound interiority to the heroes and heroines of myth. Make them come alive in their full complexity, allowing our so-called “madlang people” to connect with them on a more personal level and if possible, on a universal level.

By encouraging and empowering our artists and scholars to start the conversation and provoking the rest of us to join the conversation, we can get to know and understand fully the “Great Filipino Story”, and we can forge together a path towards our own authentic national identity.

About the author:

NICK TAYAG is a long-retired former advertising creative director. His column,” My Sixty Zen’s Worth” is published every Saturday on Business Mirror. It is his platform for sharing the little distilled wisdom he’s accumulated through the years. He hopes to inspire his fellow seniors to lead a more lively, productive, reflective and meaningful life in the last chapter of their individual life stories.