A Film a Week - Some Nights I Feel Like Walking

 previously published on Cineuropa

Nights on the streets of busy mega-cities all tend to have similar sounds and vibes: traffic is passing by, people are out walking, vendors are trying to sell their goods, and hustlers of different kinds are attempting to offer their services. There is a constant murmur in the background that almost seems like a drone. Judging by the newest effort by the relatively young, but impressively prolific, Filipino filmmaker Petersen Vargas, Manila is no different. Some Nights I Feel Like Walking has premiered in Tallinn Black Nights’ Official Competition.

First, we meet Uno, a self-assured young man who deftly navigates the busy city streets, night markets and other gathering places – the waiting rooms of bus stations and public toilets, too. This is where he sets eyes on his peer Zion for the first time, giving him a piece of free advice. If there was any suspicion what Uno’s trade is, it will be swept away when his buddies Bay, Rush and Ge appear, making plans for the night and fending off the competition for the attention of “the clients”, as they call them. Their hunting ground is a gay porn theatre hidden in a shopping mall.

This is where Uno and Zion meet again, sharing a client and his payment. Encouraged by Uno’s warm reaction to his presence, he expresses his desires to join the gang, which does not sit well with the jealous, beefy Bay. However, the gang will soon have other matters to deal with, as Ge ends up drugged and left for dead by one of his clients. His dying wish was that his friends take him back home to a suburban town where he is from. This quest challenges the loyalties between the friends and fresh love interests, especially when it becomes clear that Zion does not come from the same place as the rest of the guys.

What ensues is an urban and suburban road trip on foot and by public transport, during which we follow the plot (sort of) about the ever-evolving relationships between the marginalised young men. However, in the background, we get to learn a thing or two about Filipino society, its adhesive forces, its divisions along the lines of class, religion and ideology, and the atmosphere of abuse on the authorities’ side, which puts different kinds of “street fauna” in grave danger. These documentary-like observations are melded well with the fictional plot in Vargas’s deft style of directing aimed at shifting the viewer’s focus.

The level of technical execution is also quite commendable, thanks to Russell Morton’s cinematography that highlights the impact of both warm and cold neon lights piercing the darkness of the night, Alyana Cabral’s pulsating synth music and Daniel Hui’s editing, with fewer unnecessary cuts than expected. The cast combining non-professionals and more seasoned performers also fits the bill.

However, Vargas himself seems a bit timid or even downright lost whenever he stumbles upon anything that could be seen as provocative or confrontational on any level. The depiction is so unadventurous that it actually feels safe, even though the film portrays the milieu of prostitution. The attempt at criticising official governmental policies and the inherent corruption stops at mild allusions. Therefore, even the emotional component of it feels “stock”, rather than actually honest, making Some Nights I Feel Like Walking seem a tad pointless on any level above the strictly superficial.