Buybust Review

Erik Matti uses his signature style to take on the most pressing issue facing our country right now. But does he deliver?

Walking into the theater, I was admittedly expecting something more from the film than just punching and shooting. After all, this was the creator of On the Job, one of the best commentaries on the state of Philippine politics today. Because of that, I left the cinema feeling…unfulfilled. I expected something more intelligent.

It’s helpful to think of Buybust not as a political thriller, but as a 70s-style action movie. Buybust’s social commentary is admittedly snappy, but – unlike previous Matti work On the Job – seems to be there mostly to be provocative. In other words, it’s just there as window dressing: there’s no serious attempt at having an in-depth discussion of the War on Drugs, it’s just used as a veneer over all the punching and shooting.

And honestly? I’m OK with that. Part of me should probably be offended by the use of such a sensitive topic for shock value, but that’s where the good parts of the film come in. Buybust’s real strength is in its well-choreographed fight scenes – there’s one scene that gives me so much respect for Anne Curtis, at least until the next shitty rom-com with her name on it comes out. The level of work put into this film is stunning, and shows readily.

To summarize, go see Buybust, but don’t go in expecting any particularly deep insights about the Philippines’ drug war. It’s just punching and shooting; really well-made punching and shooting, but punching and shooting nonetheless.

Why I Don't Like Duterte

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve written a fair few alarmist pieces, all of which I now regret writing. (Thankfully, most of them haven’t gotten much attention.) Considering this, I think it’s worthwhile to approach my stance from a more dispassionate point of view, so I’ll be explicit about this. My primary issue with Duterte isn’t partisan, it’s philosophical.

I’ll be direct. Duterte seems to be operating under utilitarian logic. Utilitarianism here is defined as “the doctrine that actions are right if they are useful or for the benefit of a majority.” And as Edgar Lores outlines on joeam.com, this seems to be one of the justifications for the current War on Drugs.

Presidential Spokesperson Ernesto Abella has made statements consistent with this characterization. Here, he is reported as saying that our culture cares more for the “common good” than it does for “individual rights.” In addition, he compares Duterte’s leadership style with Singapore’s.

Comparisons between Duterte and Singapore seem to be a recurring theme within the current administration, so I don’t take that as a one-off thing. Singapore, of course, operates under a highly utilitarian ethos – Lee Kuan Yew ensured as much. Like Duterte (via Abella), Lee believed that the benefit of the majority outweighed all individual concerns.

So with that being said, why do I resent this utilitarian worldview so much? Because at heart, I’m a classical liberal, and – drawing on Kant – I resent this form of utilitarianism because it doesn’t respect the dignity of the individual.

Pictured: Someone who dislikes this state of affairs as much as I do.

As one Rajan Rishyakaran points out, individual rights do not matter in Singapore. For instance, if my freedom of speech proves inconvenient for the majority, then the government has the right to censor me so that a few more people can be better off. This is inimical to the values I was raised with, values which state that no end justifies violating my human rights as a means.

(Again, allow me to emphasize that I am deliberately trying to be dispassionate about this. So if I’m coming off as cold here, that’s why.)

And honestly, if people believe in all this utilitarian shit? That’s fine by me. As long as they don’t try to force it on me. That’s the reason I don’t say much about Singapore, and why I didn’t criticize Duterte until it became apparent to me that he was running for President. 

It's when such utilitarian logic is elevated to a national scale that it becomes my concern. It's an existential threat to me in both senses of the word – it attacks both my chances of living to see another day and the reason why I live. This is all just a means of pre-emptive self-preservation.

Thank you for your time.