And So It Begins is not a feel-good movie. Diaz, who also directed A Thousand Cuts, is not in the business of making propaganda films.
“Stay engaged.”
With this advice to the youth, Filipino-American filmmaker Ramona Diaz closed out the talkback session that concluded the recent Philippine premiere of her latest film, And So It Begins, on the penultimate day of this year’s Cinemalaya independent film festival.
There really wasn’t much left to say. In the 40 or so minutes prior to Diaz’s parting shot, Nobel Peace Prize laureate Maria Ressa talked about the current state of the world, highlighting in particular how the youth in Bangladesh had successfully led a recent pro-democracy public movement that eventually forced the 15-year-old government of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina out of power, and former Vice President Leni Robredo strongly made the case for the long game in the crusade for genuine national renewal and progress in the Philippines and the fight to save the nation’s soul for a bright future.
Robredo and Ressa weren’t just guest panelists at the forum. They are front and center in And So It Begins, Diaz’s documentary about Robredo’s campaign for the presidency in the 2022 national elections. Their talks at the post-screening forum provided more context to the film and further illuminated why it’s an essential watch, especially for those who were and may still be invested in what is often called a People’s Movement.
This is how Diaz herself describes the film in her Director’s Note: “And So It Begins trains the camera on the last months of the illiberal rule of Duterte who came to power in 2016. It considers questions that are becoming alarmingly global. How do we reclaim the democratic space from an authoritarian at a time of disinformation enabled by the tech platforms? How do we fight back and clean up the public square? When fear and helplessness rule, people are drawn to mythic figures, strongmen, magic.
“This film is about the stories we tell, the myths, and how we vote, often against our own self-interest. How nostalgia, for a perceived golden age, are powerful narrative tools to sell a revised history. This is a film about how man’s age-old impulse to gather around a campfire telling stories is still deeply rooted in our modern age selves.”
And So It Begins comes four years after Diaz’s previous work, A Thousand Cuts, a widely acclaimed, award-winning documentary about the Duterte administration’s war on the free press bannered by its persecution of Ressa and Rappler in particular. The 61-year-old Emmy winner, who was born and raised in Manila and a graduate of Emerson College, Boston and holds an MA in Communication from Stanford University, calls it a companion piece.
“Maria Ressa is still very much a part of the film [And So It Begins]. What you see is what she has talked about for the past years—disinformation and weaponization of social media—come to fruition and play out in real-time.”
And So It Begins is a living, breathing document of the country’s history in the last four years that finds continuity and reverberates in current political affairs in many places throughout the world.
This marks the first time in Diaz’s more than 25-year-career that she has ventured into a follow-up for one of her films. She has avoided it, very careful not to repeat herself in her work. The difficulty, she says, has been eye-opening.
“It was paramount for me that And So It Begins diverged significantly from A Thousand Cuts particularly in terms of its structure and form. This new film adopts a more fluid approach, presenting a shape-shifting narrative that delves into the exuberant communal celebration of defiance within a peculiar resistance movement as it confronts the ominous presence of rising autocracy.
“Rather than creating a conventional campaign film, my focus lay on capturing the essence of the idiosyncratic Philippine electoral landscape. Infusing my work with a keenly observational perspective and a profound understanding of the socio-political tapestry, I aimed to present a form of storytelling steeped in political upheaval and disruption. Weaving together multiple narratives against the backdrop of a gloves-off campaign for the most powerful office in the land, what emerges is a cinematic portrait of a beleaguered nation fighting for its soul.”
Kakampinks expecting hagiography for Robredo or a tribute to themselves as the people in the People’s Movement or a nostalgia fest need to manage expectations. Diaz, whose credits include a documentary on Imelda Marcos, is not in the business of making propaganda films; she is not that kind of filmmaker.
And So It Begins is not a feel-good movie. It’s also not a memorial. It’s a living, breathing document of the country’s history in the last four years that finds continuity and reverberates in current political affairs not just in the Philippines but also in many places throughout the world (for one, see the current Trump vs Harris head-to-head in the US election campaigns).
This sense is perfectly captured by the film’s title itself. It wasn’t always And So It Begins, though, and the journey to the final name was informed by the forward-looking mindset that Robredo and Diaz share.
In this interview for The POST, Diaz talks about the film’s title change, the challenges she encountered in making Begins, and being a Filipino-American in the time of Duterte and Trump.
How did the change in title come about? Did it impact the way you told the story or shaped the film?
When we released A Thousand Cuts, most people asked me, ‘Well, how does it end?’ because if you remember, ATC ends just as Maria is found guilty of cyber libel. So This is How It Ends was the working title for a long time. We kept it all throughout post-production because it seemed appropriate, given that VP Leni lost the election. But as we cut and it was clear I wanted to end on a hopeful note, we changed the title to And So It Begins, which echoes what VP Leni says in the end. Titles always come at the end—the title is influenced by the final locked picture and never the other way around.
What unique challenges did you face here that you did not face in A Thousand Cuts?
Every film has its unique challenges. In A Thousand Cuts, keeping up with Maria Ressa, who travels worldwide, was challenging. And it was the height of her harassment from the government— that was challenging emotionally. In And So It Begins, the challenge was keeping up with the Leni Robredo campaign. VP Leni is well-known for her deep reserves of energy, so we tried to keep up with her while keeping up with Maria at the same time. Double whammy.
Interesting that you yourself describe the film as a bit meandering. Was it by design or was it just how the story presented itself to you based on available material? Or a bit of both?
Great question. By design, of course. The film begins to cut itself in my head—the beginning versions of it—as I film. And even while shooting, I was already leaning toward that kind of meandering structure with no arc as it is usually defined. The campaign in the narrative container had to begin when VP Leni announced she’d run and end with the election results. But everything in the middle was up for grabs. But if you were to dissect the film, every ‘handoff’ to a different thought or storyline is done through editing. The audience is still being guided by the juxtaposition of scenes. As long as we clearly define the rules of engagement and the language of the film at the beginning, we hope the audience will follow us where we take them.
Who are your influences as a filmmaker? What are your favorite films and documentaries?
Wow, too many to name! My favorites change depending on the film I’m doing at the moment. It changes depending on how much space it takes up in my brain at any given time. Growing up in Manila, my movie diet was a mix of Bernal, Brocka, Peque’s Oro Plata Mata has never left me, whatever was showing in the Library (I forget the name now) on Ayala Avenue—usually the French New Wave, Truffaut, Antonioni, Godard, Italian neo-realists—La Strada, Rome Open City. And in the 70’s at the Quad theater—Jaws, Star Wars, Saturday Night Fever (!), The Godfather, Taxi Driver, The Way We Were. When I met Robert Redford at the Sundance Institute many years later, he was still Hubbell Gardner to me. I’m open to all.
When I discovered documentaries, Wiseman’s High School, Errol Morris’ Thin Blue Line, Chris Marker’s Sans Soleil, and Albert and David Maysles’ Salesman were big influences.
As a Filipino-American, which Filipino and American political figures do you hold in high regard (living or dead)?
Let me just go with the living. In the Philippines, because Leni Robredo is technically not a politician right now—she’s a private citizen—I would have to say Risa Hontiveros. I believe she has integrity. In the US, I’m fangirling over Pete Buttigieg, the current US Transportation Secretary, who I had hoped Kamala Harris had picked for Vice President. He’s the most thoughtful person in US politics right now.
How does it make you feel that the Philippines and the US seem to be on the same boat in the last 10 years, with the rise of Duterte and Trump at the same time and they are seemingly fashioned from the same crazy dictator cloth, and now Trump facing off against Kamala the way Duterte and Leni did?
It amazes me how the narratives overlap and crash into one another. When President Biden endorsed Kamala Harris, the energy it engendered reminded me of Leni Robredo’s campaign in 2022. It was the same rush of emotion and hope. It felt very familiar. But we are living in a time when the ties that bind become ever clearer, in large part because of social media. Yes, social media divides, but it also shows us how similar and connected we are.
You’ve done three films on strong women political figures. Is this a particular interest or are you naturally drawn to them?
I’ve done two: Imelda Marcos and Leni Robredo. I don’t consider Maria Ressa to be a political figure. She’s a journalist and a public intellectual. I’m drawn to interesting, complicated, nuanced figures, not necessarily political or female. But because women have a harder time in general, the struggle is more fierce and, therefore, more interesting.
At the premiere of And So It Begins you advised millennials to “stay engaged.” Why is it important that they do?
Millennials and Gen Zs have so much to contend with—so much coming at them all at once. There’s so much out there that is not true. I think the goal of disinformation and misinformation is not to make you believe the lie but to lie so much that you no longer know the truth. It’s a kind of gaslighting. It’s easier to disengage than to figure out what the truth is. The truth becomes difficult to unveil. When one disengages, one does not vote or participate in civic life, and that’s when the other side wins. That’s why it is so essential to remain engaged. And it’s ironic, but to keep engaged—one must tune out social media occasionally. To sit in silence so you can hear what your heart and mind is telling you.
