By Tony Ty
From ROGUE Magazine. June 2009 Issue.

“Sabungero” sheds light on the country’s often-misunderstood cockfighting subculture, and Rogue got a sneak peak into the latest indie that’s likely to ruffle quite a few feathers.

It’s a scene that would have many cringe.

A handler, using a simple razorblade, slices off the fighting cock’s comb and wattles as part of the traditional, native way of decombing, called “pungos.” An antiseptic is then placed on the bird’s wounds to avoid infection, after which the comb and wattle are fed back to the fighting cock — the equivalent, say, of a natural performance-enhancing steroid. In Filipino culture, these physical features, which have no use in a fight, possess valuable nutrients that the birds can use in the cockpit.

Their fights are phenomenally brutal, and by bringing them into mainstream cinema, a new independently-produced film has begun raising eyebrows, sparking debates, and generating pre-screening buzz among cultural advocates, traditionalists, animal rights activists, artists, bloggers, the censors, and cockfighting enthusiasts. There is good reason.

“Sabungero,” known internationally as “The Cockfighter,” allows audiences to get up close and personal with the dusty, chaotic world of Philippine cockfighting  — in all its bloody, jaw-dropping honesty.

For some, these ringside seats may be a bit too close for comfort. According to Claro Cortez, who wrote for the Associated Press, the number of gamecocks fought - and killed - each year in the country is estimated to range from 7 million to 13 million.

For many, however, “Sabungero,” and its unapologetic depiction of a controversial subject – sabong has long been regarded as a blood sport – the long wait for cinematic recognition is over. And, we’re not just talking about impassioned users of sabong-related websites. According to the Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism (PCIJ), there are about 8 to 10 million registered cockfighters in the country, or roughly 10 percent of the total population, spawning a P50-billion industry. That’s a sizeable chunk the film resonates with.

“Sabungero” follows the life a middle-class family man named Paco, played brilliantly by Joel Torre, and chronicles his foray into the Game of Kings, from the way it affects his life to the slow, painful struggle for redemption. Torre captures this desperate, and all too familiar, internal conflict with disturbing accuracy, his eyes, in different scenes, expressing hope, anguish, defiance, arrogance and even unrelenting greed.

Weighing down heavily on both his sides are Berting (Edwin Nombre), who blends in perfectly as the cockpit’s “Kristo,” or bet handler, and Badong, a shady gambler played to creepy perfection by Nonie Buencamino. They represent Paco’s light and shadow, the gamecocks creating dust clouds in his head, clashing in that gray area between quitting and pushing through, longing and giving up, stopping cold turkey and justifying one more round.

This fracas is also played out on the cockpit, represented by Tatang, portrayed with a quiet, respectable dignity by Robert Arevalo, and Paco’s eventual nemesis, Congressman. No other actor, it seems, could convincingly play the latter than Leo Martinez. Tatang, the mysterious owner of the “sabungan,” harks to a time when cockfighting was about honesty, camaraderie and sportsmanship; while Congressman symbolizes, well, the cesspool of gambling, commercialism and profiteering it is today.

Caught in the crossfire of Paco’s internal skirmishes are his wife (Maritoni Fernandez), his children (Sid Lucero – whose father, Mark Gil, also makes a cameo appearance — and Lesley Martinez), and his best friend (Ricky Davao). Despite their presence, however, like the gamecocks he handles, Paco slugs it out with his own demons, taking chance after chance, unable to stop his downward spiral into the debt-ridden sabungero stereotype. This could happen to anyone who takes a risk.

That includes the movie production. The story, originally written by Troy Bernardo and further developed by Luz Inocian, was put to film by directors Miguel Kaimo and Rozie Laurel Delgado, and produced by JC Bernardo — most of whom have gone into the movies for the first time. No major studio would be willing to gamble. The entertainment industry, clearly, is a veritable cockpit on its own, filled with its own Bertings, Badongs, Tatangs and Congressmans.

Shot in various farms and cockpits near Metro Manila, “Sabungero” doesn’t blame the game for Paco’s misery, because the sabungan isn’t the real source of his unhappiness. The cockfighter is lured by his own shadows, and the resulting addiction, debts and loneliness, if at all, he brings upon himself. Don’t point the finger at the game, at what is part of our pre-colonial heritage and culture, the film seems to say, and if one focuses on the gore alone, then one completely misses the point.

The gamecock, in its character, is very much like the Filipino – brave, resilient, and when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, is ready to fight to the death.