A Long March

A JOURNEY TO STORY

This story came to me after the discovery of a crate of WWII art in the family basement. It took two years of digging past white versions to learn of the abuse of Imperialist America over the Philippines and how a million people were erased from war time records.

Being aware of my own heritage as both a victim and perpetrator of imperialism, I spoke with my FilAm community and FilVetRep.org about me helping to amplify the story. The response was, 'this is an American issue; all Americans must accept responsibility for the country’s actions.' Since, I have been fortunate to be "adopted" in to a broad FilAm community with whom I, and Producers Amanda Upson and Benito Bautista, have worked diligently with to bring this story forward.

On screen and behind the camera inclusivity and representation speak at all levels including Filipino, BIPOC, women, and people with disabilities. We have remained in close contact with FilVetRep, NaFFAA, NFALA and APABA Colorado and other AAPI groups to update them on our progress, check in with what is happening across the community and prepare to launch join initiatives. Together, we have built the platform to amplify our veteran voices and look forward to the change that follows!

ARTISTIC APPROACH

Our approach is to transform this documentary into a cinematic experience while minding the balance between history and present day, talking heads and narrative, and between art and thousands upon thousands of Army documents and legal briefs. This is approached through the weaving together of WWII art and footage, archival photos, animation, motion graphics, color and texture, sound effects, music, silence, purposeful titles and captions, and audio captions.

We have had to pivot to more animation due to the death of subjects and COVID-19 safety constraints, and because WWII cameras were rarely pointed at people of color, much less women of color.

Our animations follow a path closer to fine art, leaning into the emotive qualities of the Expressionist era. Recurring visual motifs by Illustrator Nonie Cruzado include representations of the perspectives of our soldiers, as they were rarely captured during war time or the years that followed. In his art, Cruzado also transforms thousands of pieces of paper which have become the shield for white imperialist policy and the impersonal character of court decisions, V.A. policy, and U.S. government inaction. The beauty of this animation is that it allows us to create a visually symbolic space during intense scenes for our audience to project themselves into our characters, to allow viewers to enter the Filipino veteran experience more deeply. Still, these scenes remain grounded by the reality of the historical record which is frequently layered or composited in and echoed by the testimony of our subjects.

We also use color and texture to move between characters and eras, to create continuity and to allow for distinction. Our veterans are frequently portrayed in hues of altruistic blues and complimentary oranges, while the ill policies of the U.S. war machine and white supremacy take on a sickly green and is aptly complimented by red. These colors are used as subtle washes and a bold brush strokes to become the dissolving transitions, as black and white footage, “the facts,” remain largely in their original form. The intent of these transitions is for the Filipino POV to recolor the whitewashing of a century.

Girding the visuals are a melancholy melody, Feliciana’s theme, which echoes a broken heart, unrequited love, and a struggle forward, which is woven together with the blithe instruments of the Philippines and contrasting timpani of war and betrayal. We will juxtapose music against periods of silence and orchestral pieces against solo instruments to craft an authentic and moving soundtrack.