Are You Still Watching? collects film journalism from the 2010s, an era considered part of the new “golden age” of Philippine cinema. From fly-on-the-wall accounts of a rom-com’s premiere night to an intimate reportage of an encounter with a National Artist for Film, Don Jaucian bears witness to the tumultuous years of Philippine cinema and television as the country settles into the digital years and the streaming era. Beyond its star-studded cast—Nora Aunor, Ricky Lee, Erik Matti, James Reid and Nadine Lustre, Jaclyn Jose, and Antoinette Jadaone—Are You Still Watching? presents in-depth conversations with filmmakers, actors, and film workers to give a glimpse of the state of the entertainment industry.
Unassumingly tucked in the shelf of FullyBooked’s Filipiniana section is a portal that will take you deep into the world of Filipino film. Sporting a colorful still from experimental movie Cleaners (2019) as its cover, I knew I had to get the book, especially as a budding cinephile. Are You Still Watching? Dispatches and Essays on Filipino Cinema and TV (BUGHAW, Quezon City, 2025) is a collection of journalism entries during the 2010s, ranging from interviews, reportages, and profiles. Filled with works by Don Jaucian, author of Brief Histories (2022) and founding editor-in-chief of CNN Philippines Life, the book is a hidden gem sure to give both film aficionados and passerbys thought-provoking information on an overlooked part of Filipino culture.
The book does not follow a clear-cut narrative and starts with entries dating back to 2012 up until 2023. Each entry talks about a different aspect of the Filipino film industry, from film archival, directing, behind the scenes, and more. There are also no sections dedicated to transitioning between each entry, but is rather divided into two main sections: first, a collection of Jaucian’s works as a journalist, and second, his works for the Far East Film Festival Catalogue in Italy. Both sections dabble on the state of Filipino film before, during, and after the pandemic, which has forever changed the way the industry operates.
Moreover, as the entries come from varying publications (The Philippine Star, Rogue Magazine, Biannual Skinny, and CNN Philippines Life), there is no single format followed, resulting in a patchwork of information unified by Jaucian’s love for Filipino film. I find this to be a double-edged sword—readers may find the book quite redundant at times as the introduction and discussion of certain films, directors, and actors tend to repeat themselves per entry, but it also means that readers may choose to read without following the prescribed order and not get lost. Either way, it did not take away from my reading experience as what the book had to say was far more important for me.
It starts off strong with a reportage on the making of the cinematic masterpiece that is Himala (1982), and then the book proceeds to talk about Cinemalaya and the state of film archival and restoration in the country. This got me hooked from the get-go and made me start to question why these problems still continue to permeate up to this very day. The more I read, the more I started to go deeper into the rabbithole of Filipino film. I was so delighted to discover a brand new world of Manuel Conde’s Genghis Khan (1950), Weng Weng the actor, Filipino B-movies and superhero parodies, loveteams, film restoration, and iconic directors Lav Diaz, Erik Matti, and Antoinette Jadaone. This is a world completely new to me, especially as I am admittedly more exposed to Western or East Asian movies or series, but it is a world that I eagerly want to become a part of. I get more inspired as I go through the book because Jaucian’s passion and dedication to the local cinema and TV industry bleeds through his words in this collection of works from more than a decade.
Style-wise, it is incredibly easy to go through the book, and the way Jaucian writes effectively imposes a sense of urgency regarding incessant issues in Filipino film upon the reader. He writes in a way that lacks the pretentiousness or gatekeep-ish manner commonly associated with film aficionados, and for that reason, I enjoyed the book even more. This also makes it perfect not just for existing fans or enthusiasts, but also for people who may be interested in entering the rabbit hole of Filipino film. For old fans, it rekindles a sense of appreciation towards the industry (and who would not want to keep reading material about things they love?), and for new fans, the book is a jumping point as it gives a good sense of the classics, actors and directors to watch out for, and why certain festivals or streaming services are the way they are right now. It also fosters a sense of appreciation for the community that keeps this severely underfunded and unappreciated industry alive through their own efforts.
Are You Still Watching? Dispatches and Essays on Filipino Cinema and TV is a must read. Especially in a time where Filipino-made cultural products are often scoffed at and seen as baduy, works like this from passionate individuals remind us of the beauty and importance of supporting local artists and endeavors. With more and more threats to artistry (the use of AI, neocolonization, poor government, rising costs, and more), there needs to be greater efforts in ensuring that we do not get disconnected from art created from our own blood and culture. If foreigners like Quentin Tarantino can appreciate Filipino film, why can’t the average Filipino do so?
Don Jaucian looks into the past, present, and future states of Philippine cinema in this sharp collection, Are You Still Watching?, his sophomore work following his debut collection Brief Histories. His essays here, particularly the first part comprising of his earlier film features, encompass the entire Philippine film industry (with some tangents to the TV industry) through varied subjects and forms: from an impromptu and unconventional character portrait of a Pinoy Superstar to peeks behind-the-scene of an iconic Filipino film (Himala) and an equally iconic TV series (On the Wings of Love). Jaucian’s unwavering interest for films was most clear and evident in this collection. He had the same keen writing whether discussing Pinoy directors in the prestigious Cannes Film Festival or Pinoy actors who hilariously donned the Batman mask and cape. No subject in pelikula is too small for Jaucian, not even the little known little person who seemed to be a fixture of 1960s B-movies, Weng Weng.
In his introduction, one could tell that Jaucian seemed intent to ask whether we really are in the “third golden age of Philippine cinema”, but he also, almost immediately, knew that the question was moot. “But this was before COVID-19, and the world seemed to offer endless possibilities and opportunities,” he wrote. What ultimately then transpired was a look on how this global pandemic affected cinema, too. The second part of the book, which I think has the strongest entries in this collection, contains Jaucian’s dispatches from the Far East Film Festival catalogue. Here, he offered perceptive insights on the five-year state of movies and the movie-going experience in the country from 2018 to 2023. This is not a random range, as at its center was the 2020 pandemic, and Jaucian skillfully put into perspective, through a brilliant juxtaposition of the before, during, and after, how this event changed the Pinoy cinema landscape for good. And how the definitive answer to the question of a third golden age is farther than we think, or more significantly, is looking more different from what we expect.
Beautiful. This was on my to-buy list for a long time, and when I found Ateneo Press was behind it, I marched my way down to Bellarmine and purchased a copy for myself even when my wallet was on the rocks. I know this is essentially a compilation of previously written articles and essays, but every single one is a patch to a wondrous tapestry concerning the Philippine film industry, its ins, outs, and fascinations. Love teams, film festivals, classic reviews, intimate portraits of beloved icons -- everything adds to the legend of our local cinema. It's a love letter years in the making, and I'm glad to have experienced it.
reading books are not really my thing, but this book made me want to read even more and as someone who loves philippine cinema, this was good. this was still worth reading. don jaucian really knows his stuff. i love how he tell these stories like he was having a conversation with the reader.
love the parts about erik matti, nora aunor, and the dispatches. no, i just love everything about this book.
A compendium of articles and interviews by Don Jaucian provides a glimpse of our dynamic yet gasping movie scene. Drives home hard truths both from his analysis and from his interviewers. An accessible read even for the uninitiated which will leave you wanting more.