What you know about Urbandub, Sandwich, Sugar Free or Eraserheads? Maybe very little, unless you’re well versed in Filipino rock music from the last 20 years. But even if you don’t know who played bass for Rivermaya or the name Ely Buendia doesn’t elicit a reverent head nod, you may know who the bass player was for Nirvana and the names Paul Westerburg or Mike Watt can elicit that previously mentioned head nod. If you have ever stood in an empty dive bar to see a band no one has ever heard of and was moved enough to stay after the gig to shell out five dollars for their home made CD and a chance to give the cute lead singer a appreciative “good show,” then Quark Henares’ RAKENROL is the type of film you will cherish. Part ONCE and part HIGH FIDELITY, Henares has created a paean to underground music scenes and its rabid followers.
The film follows indie-rock devotees Odie and Irene as they form a friendship built on their passion for local underground music. Whether sitting around their apartment listening to CD's of obscure bands, going to shows and generally geeking out on their favorite bands between classes, theirs is a match made in platonic heaven. Eventually they decide to form their own band and in many ways, RAKENROL is a heartfelt tribute to the trials and tribulations of the life of a band. It’s an honest depiction filled with hilarity and heartache as we follow the formation of the Hapipaks, from their first show to recording their first album. But, despite all the complications and road blocks, the music prevails. After all, that’s what really matters for them in the first place.
The late film critic Alexis A. Tioseco states bluntly in his manifesto “Wishful Thinking for Philippine Cinema”: “I wish Quark Henares refrains from selling out again, because if he doesn’t, he has the potential to be one of the important ones.” In RAKENROL, a promise is fullfilled. It is a film that is D.I.Y. and independent through and through, directed with verve and written with wit. There is a casualness that is invigorating and its tangible reverence for the music and the people is as infectious as a 3-minute Ramones song or better yet, an Urban Bandits track.
