You are not gone, My Friend

Alexis is an amazing human being. That is first and foremost.

I met Alexis as a livejournal friend with a genuine love for cinema; one of the few kindred spirits of 2003. He was www.indiefilipino.com, a defunct forums site dedicated to nurturing discussions on the infancy of the independent film community. Alexis harrassed everyone into signing up, either by text or YM buzzing, accompanied by manipulative questions like, “Have you joined yet?” This first love was abused, so he moved on as Criticine.

“Mr. Medina… Good to see you. How have you been?”

It was always very odd for me, how formal his sentences would sound. He would say it with such a genuine face, never veering those eyes away, that you felt like he was the type of guy that was no bullshit, the type who won’t dick around with pleasantries. Taken aback by this genuine intent, I would change topic. Call him “Italian Stallion” to the ladies. Tease him about this girl he was “getting along” with before he met Nika.

We never got to hang out much, especially in the last 3 years. He introduced me to Nika twice, the fool citing acting credentials like “Maximo Oliveros” on both times. Everytime I’d bump into him, it’s all work stuff, little of personal stuff. The last time I saw him was the “Kinatay” premiere at Cine Adarna, he went up to the aisle on Q&A time. I thought, “Good question, Mr. Tioseco.”

Word of your murder got to me around 2am. The morning after, I awoke to a text message from an unlisted number. “Film critic Alexis Tioseco and film journalist Nika Bohinc were shot and murdered by three men…”

I could see my friend getting shot, in some senseless way, in some senseless time, an image that absolutely had no meaning. I locked this hideous message in my phone. Specifically to remind me of the cruel imbalance in this world. Every time I’d go back to this, a playback of the scene ensues. I could do stuff, bad stuff, stuff that wouldn’t normally cross my head. I deleted the message a few days after.

Alexis, is this how we should move on?

You were inside the open casket. I saw you. Your body was there. “You look good, brother.We’ll get them, don’t worry…” You never shed off the weight you gained. You now sported a beard. I haven’t sat down with you for so long, it’s only then I realize this to be your “new look”. Something to make you look more mature, more like a film critic. Someone who will strike you with his looks, further impress you with his convictions. A far cry from the tall, skinny boy of six years ago.

Alexis and Nika shared a greater purpose. The ideals they were sacrificing for, the values they were trying to instill, are the same things I have always tried to uphold. This greater purpose they shared— I also shared with them. It is bigger than me, bigger than both of them, bigger than all of us.

I would love to get my hands on those beasts, but I soon realize one important thing. The ultimate retribution, the brand of justice that will give meaning to their otherwise senseless deaths, is not a howling for blood. Instead, it has become something clear and empowering.

My dear friend, Alexis. I am excited to tell you that I am writing my first feature-length screenplay. This is the first project I truly believe in enough to write. I am lending my knowledge of film language to my friend Alan. The material is very good. This material— although it is not molten from the fires of my very soul (that is for another time)— is material I am honored to be merely the writer of. I am onboard making sure this beautiful story, is a goddamn beautiful story well told.

Since we started conceptualizing, your face has always been in my head. You are the first criticism I would seek. We would sit down. I’d say, “You wanna be a true friend? Be honest, and unmerciful.” I would let you fire away. I would take it all in. I would listen, never saying any defensive rebuttals. I am not the kind to take offense from earnest criticism, and you are not the kind to be malicious with your words. With that, I place full confidence in your gracious praise and criticism.

I choose to seek you, Alexis, remembering you as that new dude, lanky yet sturdy, strutting around with this blind adulation for Lav Diaz, all in a quest for a cozy spot in the film community, though never afraid to be left out in the cold. I thought you were a fool, but I never doubted your love. Now, you have become quite the respected critic. I never told you I’m proud of you. I promise, it will be said in the end credits.

You introduced me to the indomitable writing of Noel Vera. In words describing him, Alexis, you may have been reflecting on yourself:

Cinema is his love, and Philippine cinema his steady girlfriend. He knows her virtues and faults, can see her flaws and mistakes, but loves her so much that he can’t let go; that he struggles and stays committed because he knows he can see the beauty in her that no one else can… Yet.

My indomitable friend, people are saying you are gone. I refuse to believe this. It is the most absurd thing. I dare say, Alexis! You will be marching with us, arm in arm, exactly the way it should have been. Living among us with your example of inexhaustible love. Caring until it hurts. Striving until we bleed. It has always been about diving headfirst into the only worthy fight there is— The Good Fight. You did it for Cinema, Love, Life & Friendship. Your greatest purpose; now our greatest purpose.

Alexis Tioseco, you will remain in our hearts;

The pulsating blood in our actions,

That warm smile in our thoughts.

See you soon, Comrade.