On Weaving Kna The Dreamweaver

Anita Del Mundo's Kna, The Dreamweaver is commendable for using the Tboli language. Despite its lapses on proper pronunciation, (knowing the fact that the major actors are not native speakers), it still gives a refreshing vibe especially to those viewers who are not familiar with the language. But using the native language alone is not a guarantee that the film is not exempted from its other lapses. Del Mundo's debut feature may be pleasing on the surface but it needs a little more digging to really understand it. 

The film revolves around Kna (Mara Lopez) and her transition from a daughter of a Datu to being the dreamweaver of her community. The conflict of the two clans – from the North and South, greatly affects both communities. They decided to have a pact of peace to end their ancient feud. Kna's father, Lobong Ditan (Nonie Buencamino), the Chieftain of the South clan, and the North Chieftain (Rafael "Bembol" Roco Jr.) agreed to betroth Kna to Kagis (Alex Medina), the son of the North Chieftain. But Kna does not love Kagis since her heart belongs to Silaw (RK Bagatsing). So this results in complications but ended in a peaceful resolution. 

Even though the characters are identified as Tbolis and sets in the famous Lake Sebu, the story seems so familiar that we can predict its ending. It is a modern take on Damsel in distress story wrapped in a Tnalak cloth. Del Mundo's film may help to promote the Tboli ethnic-group but it does not help them to raise important issues within their community. It does not elevate the plight of the Indigenous People in the country. 

The sense of time and landscape are important elements in a film. It gives the viewers an assurance that what they see on screen is faithful to its setting and its scenes or events. Kna, The Dreamweaver fails to establish the time setting and may leave the viewers pondering its authenticity. Is it set before or after the Ilonggo migrants came to Lake Sebu? Is it during the American period? Or the film is just a Disney-like fairytale? Furthermore, the film fails to show the entire Lake Sebu. The Municipality of Lake Sebu, South Cotabato, has three lakes – Lake Sebu (the biggest), Lake Seloton (the middle lake), and Lake Lahit (the smallest). The first and second lakes are not ideal to shoot since there are many households and establishments surround it. Maybe Del Mundo and her team decided to choose the third and smallest lake since there are no people inhabited near it. But Del Mundo somehow betrays the audience for not showing even the mountain ranges of the place, a minimal shot of Lake Sebu or any geographical identifier of the place, which result in stripping the identity of the community. Lake Lahit may be visually appealing but it takes a little resourcefulness and creativity that you can shoot it in another location with a similar look as if you are shooting in the exact location. 

Moreover, it is not enough to just dress the characters in their traditional clothes without establishing properly their identity since there are other Tboli groups living outside Lake Sebu. Clothing is a signifier of the social status of a person, especially during ancient times. The film shows the beautiful tnalak cloth through the characters' clothing and the weaving scenes. But the film fails to distinguish the royal families from the commoners. They are almost look, wear, and act the same as though there are no social distinctions during that time. Despite the fact that they hired Tboli consultant(s) and worked with the Tboli community, it still lacks research in terms of production design, making the film seems awkward to look at. The production design can help identify what time the story takes place or can reflect what the predicament of the Tboli people is. If you are familiar with the Tbolis and have the chance to do community immersion, you would look for its nuances and sensibilities that are unique to their tribe and place. Unfortunately, the film is unable to show it despite the fact that its supporting characters are Tbolis. 

It boils down to the question of representation: Who has the right to portray Lumads and Moros in the Philippine cinema? Is it a filmmaker from Manila or from Mindanao? If the filmmaker is from Mindanao, does he/she come from the Lumad or Moro community? Up to what extent does the filmmaker can portray a certain ethnic-group and their struggles? Is it more empowering that the Lumads and Moros tell their own narrative instead of an outsider? The debate continues and we should have critical eyes on viewing these kinds of films.