THE STORY – 16th century. Magellan, a young and ambitious Portuguese navigator, rebels against the power of the King, who doesn’t support his dream of discovering the world. He persuades the Spanish Crown to fund his bold expedition to the fabled lands of the East. The voyage is exhausting beyond expectations, with hunger and mutiny pushing the crew to their limits.
THE CAST – Gael García Bernal, Ângela Azevedo, Amado Arjay Babon, Ronnie Lazaro, Hazel Orencio, Tomás Alves, Bong Cabrera, Baptiste Pintaux & Brontis Jodorowsky
THE TEAM – Lav Diaz (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 156 Minutes
Bounded by the troublesome history of his home country, the work and legacy of Golden Lion laureate Lav Diaz looks back and confronts the history of the Philippines. After witnessing the rise and fall of Ferdinand Marco’s violent dictatorship in his young adulthood, Diaz’s oeuvre is ultimately informed by his memories of martial law. Through his cinema, Diaz glacially unravels and deconstructs history through static long-takes and minimalist sound design. His films’ impenetrable and challenging duration effectively lulls the viewer into a somnolent state. During the recent 4K re-release of his procedural noir “Batang West Side,” Diaz encouraged spectators to take breaks during the five-hour-long film despite the lack of an intermission.
Diaz is perfectly aware of his alienative mise-en-scène. Despite the initial time commitment that might turn away viewers from his prolonged filmography, his restricted methodology enriches the urgency of his political ruminations. His stagnant pacing recreates history from afar, where his disenfranchised characters roam through the desolation of their national trauma. His films aren’t designed to entertain but rather provoke and encourage viewers to engage with history up close. While his latest feature, “Magellan,” marks a significant production detour for Diaz and his reliable collaborators, the film remarkably integrates his signature auteurism to spellbinding effect.
Working in tandem with producer Albert Serra, Diaz received funding from Spanish and Portuguese production funds, expanding the scope and cinematic grandeur of a typical Diaz production. Conjoining the history of the participating countries, “Magellan” recontextualizes the colonial exploits of navigator Ferdinand Magellan. In matrimonious allegiance to the Spanish empire, Magellan found passage to southeast Asia through South America in hopes of reaching the Spice Islands. He ended his expedition in the Philippines. Due to the grueling nature of his voyage, Magellan’s image in contemporary society remains a positive one. UNESCO recently honored him for his treacherous circumnavigation route. However, the memorialization of Magellan’s history blindsights his genocidal atrocities.
In Diaz’s interpretation of the conquistador’s legacy, the film’s first images begin through an Indigenous periphery. Set during the conquest of Malacca, Diaz avoids exploitative depictions of colonial violence. Within its immaculately composed wide shots, “Magellan” only illuminates the aftermath of the violence. Artur Tort’s impressive cinematography maximizes the duration of his static long takes. The chiaroscuro-inspired composition accompanying Tort’s digital image complements the serenity of the atmospheric nature-scapes. A purely diegetic soundscape accompanies the striking imagery, as Diaz’s artistic prowess gently deconstructs the anatomy of colonial violence in real time.
In retaliation against the positive narrative that has spun Magellan’s public image in the mainstream, Gael García Bernal portrays the titular conquistador as a stern and emotionally reserved navigator. The brutality of his commands and his hypocritical theological ramblings enhance the brainwashed narratives that were manufactured by the Spanish crown. In moments of isolation, Bernal’s subtle expressions reveal Magellan’s mercy amidst his voyage. Diaz implements a surreal subplot involving the ghost-like figure of Magellan’s wife, Beatriz, to seethe through his protagonist’s deteriorating mental state. From afar, Diaz forces his spectator to endure Magellan’s cruelty and ideological persuasion. In close-up, the mise-en-scène swoons upon Bernal’s bearded visage — punctuating his deadened expressions and physical exhaustion.
Contrary to the spirit of some of his more elusive entries in his dense filmography, “Magellan’s” procedural structure doesn’t attempt to offer anything new or revolutionary in its telling. Diaz’s primary pursuit is to provide a clear and concise portrait of one man’s colonial reckoning. Regardless of whether the film already conforms to the politics of Diaz’s largely left-wing arthouse viewership, “Magellan’s” sharp direction and sprawling ambition subsequently illustrate the auteur’s primary thematic interests. While the film doesn’t offer anything thematically new to the table, it still remarkably advocates for resistance against colonial structures. Lav Diaz’s commendable and timely vision effectively denounces Magellan’s navigational empire, meticulously recreating and deconstructing his torturous voyage to the Philippines through the effectiveness of his slow-moving Mise-en-scène.
