The Philippines are in the news at the moment with the arrest by the International Criminal Court of former leader Rodrigo Duterte, for alleged ‘crimes against humanity’ committed during his leadership from 2016 – 2022. During this time, at least 6,000 (up to 30,000 by some estimates) people considered to be drug dealers and other undesirables were murdered by his police force, including a few admittedly by himself. Few of the victims were given trials, and many were actually completely innocent of any crime. They just happened to be poor and living lives largely on the street. Duterte, who has said he has fancied men in his time, but was cured by beautiful women, is currently languishing in prison in the Hague awaiting his fate.
This is all rather timely for the UK premier of Some Nights I Feel Like Walking, a queer indie road movie by Filipino director Petersen Vargas, which has its UK premiere at London’s BFI Flare Film Festival.
Uno (Jomari Angeles), Bay (Argel Saycon), Miguelito (Gold Aceron) and Rush (Tommy Alejandrino), are handsome twenty-something street hustlers/escorts, plying their craft at night in the dark corners of bustling, humid Manila. They just about scrape a living – and it’s a tough living – fighting, robbing, escorting, doing what they need to do to pay the monthly rent. This includes giving the occasional blow job to the head of the local police force to evade arrest. Their orbit includes dingy public toilets, flea pit queer cinemas, bus stations and night markets. They have a strong camaraderie though, which combines with their wit and strength to see them through life.
One day Uno meets Zion (Miguel Odron), in a toilet at a bus station. Zion is barely 18 and has run away from home. Uno connects with Zion and sometime later the two have a threesome with a client. Uno welcomes Zion to the group but the muscular, anger-filled Bay is suspicious of him and struggles to accept him. The chaos around the men continues and reaches a head when Miguelito overdoses on drugs with a client, who then leaves him alone and dying. The rest of the men rush to find him but don’t know what to do. If they take him to hospital they could be accused of supplying him with drugs and get arrested and murdered by the police. Whilst deciding what to do, Miguelito dies, but not before declaring that his final wish is for his body to be returned home to the village he came from.
The men decide to take his body home themselves – rather than risk getting framed by the authorities. Thus begins a convoluted, incident-filled road trip from Manila into the countryside involving city buses, taxis, long distance night buses and motorbikes.
Vargas has taken themes of queer chosen family, the Duterte crimes, police/authority oppression, the ending of life, rich versus poor and marginalised living and fashioned an intense, fast-paced film that gives an interesting insight into Filipino life. Shot entirely at night, the cast (chosen from hundreds of applicants) have a strong bond and chemistry. There’s a rawness to the film, with many shots filmed on handheld cameras and involving the public, that gives it an authenticity. The scenes of intimacy also feel real, ranging from the emotionless, transactional ‘no kissing’ escort hook ups, to the tenderness of real love. The strong soundtrack adds to the mix. It’s a film of two halves, a strong opening half set in Manila, with the second half on the road meandering slightly with a couple of incomplete sub-plots, before finding its way again in great style at the end. I guess that’s life though. It’s great to see queer Manila on the screen – the Philippines being one of the most LGBTQ friendly destinations in South East Asia.
