Auraeus Solito

After studying theatre and filmmaking in Manila, Auraeus Solito spent five years living in the Palawan islands of the southern Philippines, with his ancestral tribe. On his return to Manila, he made 'The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros' (2005), the charming, vibrant story of a gay Manila 12-year-old whose life is changed by the arrival of a new policeman in his neighbourhood. This was followed by 'Tuli', a village-set tale of tradition challenged which also took an unconventional approach to gender. Solito is now planning a 'teenybopper' film, albeit one 'with a political set-up'

Auraeus Solito

Before ‘The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros’, you made a documentary about your tribal heritage.
After graduating, I discovered my mother has indigenous blood, so I went to live with my tribe and because of that I experienced the rituals of my ancestors. It was an experience only film could capture: the beauty of my elders, the stories told, the textures, the sounds… Only film could do that. The family in ‘Maximo…’ is like a tribe in the streets – it captures that essence of the ancient Filipinos, everyone sharing amid nothingness. It was the same when we were shooting ‘Maximo…’ in Sampaloc, where I grew up: the extras were my friends, the policeman’s house is my house, my mum and my partner’s mother made the food.

How much of yourself do you see in the character of Maximo?
At that age I was also a screamingly queeny gay boy, but then I needed to be butch when I fell in love with an officer. So even though I didn’t write the script, I saw myself in it.

Maximo’s father and brothers don’t mind his effeminacy, even though they’re so macho. Is that typical?
I’m always surprised when people ask why Maximo is accepted. I was surprised by the word ‘tolerant’ [when I first heard it used in this context]. I didn’t like it. Why do you have to be ‘tolerant’? Can’t you just let other people be what they are? We’ve always had shamans – babaylan – who were queer, who had aspects of both man and woman, which was seen as the best. In fact, I was initially concerned that the sexuality wasn’t dealt with as strongly as it it might be [in the film].

As well as winning a dozen international awards, ‘Maximo…’ has been a great domestic success.
It was the number-one box-office hit of all time for independent film in the Philippines; it beat ‘Chicken Little’ and ‘King Kong’. I was surprised when I saw it the first time with an audience – people were cheering and stomping their feet. It was like a ritual! I never expected it.

Are Filipinos big film fans?
The Philippines was the third-biggest film-producing country in the world in the ’70s, but Filipinos are such big movie-goers there was no need to sell them abroad. Now piracy has given the masses taste – you can buy Kurosawa, Bertolucci, Kieslowski films for a dollar and Filipinos want to watch everything.

Now we’re at a very volatile stage in our history so people are making meaningful films again. After the revolution of 1986, people got complacent and the ones who were oppressed then are using violence now. My second film [‘Tuli’] was censored: the government are Christian conservatives and it’s a lesbian film with religious elements. They say two boys can kiss but not two girls. ‘Tuli’ is like the twin of ‘Maximo…’ – a sissified city boy and a manly country girl, the male environment of the city and the female forest.

Both ‘Maximo…’ and ‘Tuli’ are very Filipino films, but has Filipino politics made you consider leaving?
No, I’m very endemic. I got this fellowship in Japan for four months and I got depressed out of my wits.

‘The Blossoming of Maximo Oliveros’ is out on June 1

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