Seven Sundays comes at a time when traditional family ties have been changed, disrupted, eroded, or weakened amidst recent changes in Philippine society.
[If You Don’t Mind Spoilers, Go Right Ahead]
Not that hugot and kilig are bad, but it’s nice to have the occasional movie that tugs at the heart without being a romantic comedy. We’ve had a lot of that of late, and Seven Sundays – a family film – has been a welcome respite from the sweetness.
Filipinos traditionally put a high premium on the extended family, not least in the form of political dynasties. But it has always been a perennial theme in Philippine cinema, from Home Along Da Riles and Anak to Tanging Ina and Tanging Yaman, as well as in soap operas.
Indeed, the value of family is so entrenched in Filipino culture that its affirmation in cinema needs little comment. How can films that portray the touching reconciliation of families — such as that in Seven Sundays — be controversial, political, and ideological in the sense that, say, Respeto is?
But there is more to the family in Philippine film than heartwarming scenes of apologies and forgiveness that many Filipinos can relate to. While those are constant themes in Philippine film, if not elsewhere, Seven Sundays comes at a time when traditional family ties have been changed, disrupted, eroded, or weakened amidst recent changes in Philippine society. In that sense at least, it’s highly political, and deeply relevant to our times.
Migration has been to blame for such disruptions. As more Filipinos leaves the country, the structure of the families they leave behind change, or much worse, lie in ruins, as they themselves enter into new, amorous relationships. Many of them grow alienated from their children, if not their families, a process painfully captured in the film, Anak.
However, migration figures very little in the family dynamics of Seven Sundays. More vital to the film are the growing autonomy and independence of the Bonifacio children, like that of many other Filipinos. Although Filipino children have always left the nest, the tendency to be autonomous and independent has arguably been greater today. Much of these, I surmise, has to do with phenomenal growth of the Philippine economy, whose service sector has boomed over the last decade, thanks to BPOs, remittances, and real-estate construction. This has helped create a respectable middle-class to which the Bonifacios as a family (and the moviegoing public) belong; a middle-class that pursues their passions and fulfill their dreams; it’s a class that faces a world of possibilities (of wealth, adventure, fame, of a better life abroad), is more mobile, and less bound by traditional ties, including those of the family.
Although they are not deliberately and blatantly portrayed as middle-class dreamers, the experiences of the three Bonifacio children nevertheless mirror those of the Filipino middle-class. Three of the children have their own professions; the eldest, Allan, runs the family business, ABC store; the second, Bryan, is a rich, successful executive; and the fourth is a social media influencer, albeit a beleaguered one. However much middle-class is a contested term, the Bonifacio family is certainly not poor.
The life and career paths of the Bonifacio children affect their relationship with each other. Their cares and careers have rendered them busy, and so caught up in their own personal dramas, that they see their father, and each other, less and less. And their varying success — Bryan made it, Allan’s floundering with the store, and Dexter’s on the run — have also caused rifts and resentments amongst themselves. Allan and Dexter think Bryan’s success has gotten to his head, and think he’s better than the rest of the family. And Dexter feels abandoned as his siblings did their own thing. And they have their own approaches to life and decision-making styles that occasionally erupt into outright shouting matches and walk-outs.
Although family rows are common, the decline of family ties in Seven Sundays is partly rooted in economic developments. Two subplots register this impact. One is Allan’s relationship with his son, who idolizes his Uncle Bryan more than his father. Uncle Bryan drives a fancy car and regularly gives him gifts that his father, Allan cannot afford. Second, the Bonifacio family business faces a threat engendered by the Philippines’ economic boom: foreign investment and the consumer-driven economy, symbolized by the Korean entrepreneur, Mr. Kim, who wants to create mini-mall across ABC. This entry of foreign capital threatens the nearly-bankrupt store. Mr. Kim plans to turn it into a parking lot, and destroy the family legacy.
Set against this gentrification are the Bonifacio family and their small tindahan, which today has become an endangered species in the face of malls and shiny convenience stores. At the end, however, they reconcile, pull together, save the business, and ridicule Mr. Kim to boot. The film names his mini-mall, KSP (Kim’s Superstore Plaza), an acronym that also stands for Kulang Sa Pansin in Filipino, a derogatory term that literally means, Lacking and Seeking Attention. As for Allan and his son, they reconcile too. While the son admits that he admires his Uncle Bryan, he affirms his love for his not-so-well-off dad.
Seven Sundays affirms the importance of family in the face of a changing economy and chides the growing autonomy of many Filipinos. As the Bonifacio children pursue their respective lives and careers, their separation breed differences, rifts, and resentments that tear the family apart. The message: autonomy and separation are bad for the family. And the film delivers a cautionary tale too: going at alone — without your family — is a recipe for personal and professional failure. Dexter the youngest does not grow up with his siblings, and as an adult, fends for himself, but ends up on the wrong side of the law. Allan fails to keep the business afloat, and needs Bryan’s help to make it work and push back Mr. Kim’s efforts. Cha kicks out her philanderer of a husband, but has trouble running the entire household. She copes only when her three brothers arrive and help her fix the leaky faucet and take care of the children.
However, even as Seven Sundays chides self-sufficiency and full independence, it does not accuse the Bonifacio children of being selfish; neither does it penalize them for pursuing their respective dreams and careers. And this somewhat tacit acceptance of autonomy is evident in Bryan’s monologue, where he complains about how his success is often taken against him, and asks that his family, and thus we viewers, not do so. Don’t blame me, he says, for working hard and making something out of my life.
In this sense then, Seven Sundays departs from many a Filipino film or TV program that frustrates heroes or heroines that dream of autonomy. One is reminded of Maya in Be Careful With My Heart, who dreams of being a flight stewardess but ends up as a maid, and later wife to Sir Chief. Another is Teresa in English Only, Please, who’s an independent woman shackled by her no-good family. She meets and has a relationship with a Filipino-American (played by Derek Ramsay), and thus in principle (this wasn’t brought up in the movie) have a chance to pursue a life outside her family. Yet like the loving daughter she is, she never forsakes her family and says that she still owes it to them.
Thus, if Seven Sundays does not chide autonomy and independence, it instead maintains a balancing act between the growing autonomy and independence of Filipinos today, on the one hand, and the traditional concern for family on the other. It’s a reconciliation that mirrors that among the Bonifacio siblings and their father, all of whom exchange heartwarming apologies in the end. You can be as successful as Bryan and pursue your career; just don’t forget your family.
This reconciliation appears in many other Filipino films, such as Tanging Yaman. But if Seven Sundays comes at a time when traditional family ties are being disrupted, the film affirms them on a different basis. Previous films like Tanging Yaman usually rely on tragedy to get the family back together; indeed, fatal accidents are often a trope to effect any form of reconciliation, as was the case in (I think) No Other Woman, when Ram’s (played by Derek Ramsay) car accident led him to reconcile with his estranged wife, Charmaine (played by Cristine Reyes), whom he cheated by having an affair with Kara (played by Anne Curtis).
Seven Sundays departs from this motif. At first, the eponymous seven Sundays happen at the request of an ailing father, who wants to see his family before he dies from lung cancer. It turns out, however, that the cancer is misdiagnosed, but he keeps it from his family, fearing that if they knew he was not going to die, they will stop seeing him again. That they find out he keeps it under wraps leads to another family row, but they all eventually make up and have a happy ending.
This touching conclusion is typical of family movies, but it also reveals a reconstruction of family ties based less on tragedy (an upcoming death) but on a sincere willingness. Their relationship with, and visits to their father, constitute a freely given act of love and respect, not a compliance with an obligation (as they were when they complied with a dying man’s wish). It’s a welcome reconstruction of family ties on a more open, equal and interdependent basis, not on feudal and patriarchal notions of “utang na loob,” obligation, or “napipilitan lang dahil tatay ko.” It’s a homage to, a recognition of, and a concession to, the freedom and autonomy (hitherto) practiced by the Bonifacio children. Yet another barometer by which we can detect changes in Filipino family ties.