‘Iti Mapukpukaw’ REVIEW: A local animated masterpiece arrives on Netflix
‘Iti Mapukpukaw’ REVIEW: A local animated masterpiece arrives on Netflix
Iti Mapukpukaw’s official poster. Taken from Netflix.
Do you believe in aliens or in the vast space of our own memories? Iti Mapukpukaw (The Missing), written and directed by Carl Joseph Papa, breaks through art dimensions and film conventions by telling its unique story about trauma and losing one’s self. An award-winning 2023 Cinemalaya entry and the Philippines’ official entry submission to the 96th Academy Awards (all while being the first fully-animated Filipino film to earn both honors), the film has made its long-awaited arrival to streaming last February 24, 2024 through Netflix.
Iti Mapukpukaw is a Filipino-Ilocano drama film about Eric (Carlo Aquino), an animator with no mouth, communicating only through writing on a portable whiteboard. He is supported by his coworker / love interest Carlo (Gio Gahol) and mother Rosalinda (Dolly de Leon), who check up on him everyday. Life turns upside down for Eric though, as he and Carlo stumble upon the rotting body of the former’s uncle in their family home. This haunting discovery inexplicably triggers a mysterious alien to constantly hound him, along with fragmented memories of Eric’s childhood, leading to a reality-breaking downward spiral of events.
At its core, Iti Mapukpukaw is as real as it gets. In the film’s world, there are no personal demons or far-away galaxies; only “aliens” of our past who want to abduct us from the present. These aliens are the metamorphosis of Eric’s trauma, doubling as a way to mask the true forms of the abuse he has suffered. In a literal sense, the word “alienation” exists to describe the feeling of being excluded from the rest of the world, losing one’s self in isolation or a deprivation of one’s expression. As the film progresses, we are to understand less and less of Eric as his eye, genitals, and drawing hand disappear to join the void of his missing mouth. The complexities of trauma and alienation are uniquely handled with utmost care and creativity, all while giving a suspenseful and surreal odyssey.
The film’s rotoscope animation is painstakingly brilliant and emotional. It is truly the film’s star asset and evidently shows the masterful result of eight months' effort of the best creative hands out there. Every frame is stylishly rendered while faithfully expressing the deep emotions of the mundane reality it was traced upon. Smooth-moving frames and dull colors highlight Eric’s routine as an overworked animator and a man forced to lose bits of himself every day. Our protagonist’s daily life is visually familiar but somehow alienating, highlighting his disconnect with the world around him.
Contrasting all these are flashbacks of his childhood memories, which he himself has drawn. Messy crayola colors and heavy chalk outlines move hazily across patches of blank digital backgrounds, crafted like an imaginative child would, yet also riddled with seeds of lingering fear and discomfort. This is a prime representation of how the film uses perceived artistic imperfections to convey the character’s struggle to remember. How the art style changes in between Eric’s colorful past and grounded present chronicles the character’s complicated backstory with great skill and vulnerability, pushing the limits of animation on screen.
Eric’s childhood in Iti Mapukpukaw. Taken from Netflix.
Iti Mapukpukaw’s animations are, of course, powered by the real human actors moving behind the lines. Carlo Aquino gives an empathetic performance as Eric, carefully painting a portrait of a traumatized young adult in each movement. Gio Gahol is engaging as Eric’s complementary opposite, a charming spark of optimism and someone who actively seeks to understand our protagonist’s struggle. It is also notable how nuanced the film portrays the two characters’ budding romance in relation to Eric’s reactions to intimacy and physical contact since these facets are deeply rooted in his past trauma.
Dolly de Leon shines in every second of her short screen time as Rosalinda, being the most caring and quirky mother for Eric. There is also a heartfelt scene towards the end where her character sings a heartwarming rendition of Donna Cruz’s “Kapag Tumibok ang Puso”, which encapsulates the very heart of the film, amongst all the aliens and terror around. Eric, Carlo, and Rosalinda are truly some of the most genuinely likable and relatable characters I’ve watched in recent memory, with an unexpectedly natural onscreen connection.
Rewatching Iti Mapukpukaw on Netflix made me see some valuable missing pieces, ones I’ve overlooked from watching it in theaters as part of Cinemalaya last year. What took me so long to write a review for this is a testament of the film’s weight. When I left the theaters last year, I was speechless like Eric himself. Now, I have found the right words to tell you about this one-of-a-kind film. One that feels out of this world yet hits so close to the heart like no other.
Iti Mapukpukaw ends up as a loving film; an unusual embrace, rather than a hopeless tragedy. A maximalist labor of love to Filipino cinema, animation, and our collective artistry. Deep inside, it tells us to confront our trauma when prepared and to overcome it with the love around us. No frame and emotion is wasted with its tight one hour and 30 minute runtime. If anything, the Oscars lost by not considering this film. On the other hand, we won by witnessing this almost-impossible film flourish organically, and hopefully it can be experienced all around the world by the many who are still searching for their own missing parts in life.
Iti Mapukpukaw is now available to watch on Netflix (for Southeast Asia regions only).
