Filipiñiana is a slow, slow burn. But burn it does.
It follows two young women over a day at a golf course. They seem to be opposites (one a guest, one staff) and so we wonder why we’re following just these two, as opposed to anyone else there that day.
Will their stories meet? Who knows. For now, what we’ll do is observe. One of them plays golf, seemingly courted by her uncle to come back to the Philippines and change the country for the better. The other asks questions of the more seasoned staff as she tries to get her bearings. It’s little dialogue and even less action. Mostly, we have nothing to do but consider their faces as they consider the things in front of them.
Through this slow motion, we learn about the culture of this place. The club; the country. And after a while, it begins to feel like that’s precisely what this movie is all about.
There are moments of staff choreography (like sweeping in rhythm, or dancing), equally funny and sad, that break up the monotony and add to what we must consider.
All of it can feel like both too much and too little. It is not an easy watch. But at some point when we feel stuck like our Filipiñianas, at the mercy of a sun that never seems to stop baking, in a place that never seems to change, there is an uncomfortable, powerful clarity. This is impressive moviemaking.