CinemAyala: A rant on mall spaces

I’m going to die in a mall one day. It seems no matter where I go in this damn country, I always end up in these sleek temples of capital. You can’t eat meals, socialize with friends, commute back home, or enjoy watching films without the mall. The mall comes for all of us. It has become Filipino culture. 

This was the reality for the 20th year of Cinemalaya, the country’s top independent film festival. A celebration of the independence of local filmmakers is not independent of the spaces controlled by one of the wealthiest local families. 

The main festival venue of Ayala Malls Manila Bay (AMMB, for brevity) is a curious one. I think no other mall revels in its commitment to hostility towards its patrons, or at least, those with lower socioeconomic power. AMMB is located in Aseana City, Parañaque whose cityhood is awarded not by some organic growth in population over time but rather by a political vision to turn the place into some local version of Las Vegas. More casinos and hotels will line the streets of this “city”. And where I wonder do the ordinary people who come and go actually live? Not in these streets for sure. Still, if the exterior landscape, in which AMMB is located, is harsh enough towards one’s economic standing, so is the interior. And it is the interior, not unlike the many malls that trap the souls of Filipinos, that made me realize how Cinemalaya XX fails to deliver on the promise of true independence.

I was a part of a marketing team for a Cinemalaya short film finalist this year. And for a brief moment during the Gala Screening for the Shorts B section, my responsibilities included accommodating the family of our film’s documentary subject. Nanay Mary Ann and her two sons had not eaten lunch before the screening; I had to accompany them to look for food. We went down a floor, just beneath the cinemas. It was Japan Town – all Japanese themed restaurants evoking a land which Nanay Mary Ann would never visit. We went down another floor. All stores. Then we went down all the way to the ground floor. No food court in sight. Those always had the most affordable options in any Ayala Mall. The prices of any meal in the restaurants near the escalators did not go below Php 100. Now, our film’s team had a budget of Php 1,000 for Nanay Mary Ann and her boys. But looking around the restaurant options, they did not seem inviting. Not as inviting as a Jollibee with its recognition and relative affordability. These bourgeois restaurants are not to be found outside these sacred Ayala spaces. Eventually, with Nanay Mary Ann’s presence needed soon at the screening, the search for lunch was halted. I was to buy hotdog sandwiches from the Cinema Snacks booth instead.  On the way back to the cinemas, Nanay Mary Ann remarked how there was no play place of sorts nearby where she could leave her sons during the screening. Her sons would only stay outside the cinemas. 

Perhaps we were all unfamiliar with the geography of AMMB to find anything affordable for eating or even a place for leisure (for Nanay Mary Ann’s kids). I think AMMB doesn’t want any of us there. So why was Cinemalaya XX held there, I wonder. Why do our cultural events have to be such in exclusive spaces? In spaces that will surely sap your finances the minute you overstay your welcome. Is there a future for our cinemas beyond the mall? Or will cinema die along with myself inside these wretched temples of commerce?