“A shocking and infuriating film.”

Playing in this year’s Toronto International Film Festival’s Platform competition is Silenced Nights, the latest film from veteran Filipino director Lawrence Fajardo. Shot on location in the Manila slum Tondo, known as Happyland, during the height of anti-drug police operations, the film tells the story of Andoy, who witnesses police officers killing a teenage boy. With Silenced Nights, Fajardo has crafted a shocking and infuriating film that criticizes the police state and its intertwinement with government institutions. While the film may border on becoming too melodramatic, the excellent performances and Fajardo’s visceral direction give Silenced Nights immense power.

The film opens with fifteen people being killed during overnight police operations. The deaths have become so normalized that they are discussed as just another part of daily life, being part of the government’s war on drugs. The next morning, parents take their children to school and learn one of the students, Kerwin, had been killed during the sting. With great irony, Fajardo shows how the school’s response to Kerwin’s death is to institute drug testing for students of a certain age, while in the background students sing the national anthem and are taught about dying for their country. 

This contradiction becomes one of the most compelling aspects of the film. Children are taught patriotism and allegiance to the state while the government is killing kids in their neighborhoods under the guise of the drug war. After Kerwin was killed, a background character dismissively states, “Those junkies deserve it”.  Kerwin was an eleventh-grade student, but immediately after his death he was transformed from a child into a drug addict, due to propaganda.  

Andoy, played tremendously by Nico Antonio, lives within this environment with his daughter Melia. He’s a handyman and takes whatever work he can find.  On the night of the operations he witnesses Kerwin’s execution by the police, for no apparent reason. He must decide whether to remain silent or risk his own life to reveal what actually happened.  Kerwin’s death is immediately transformed by the police into something completely different from what Andoy witnessed. According to the official police report, Kerwin fought back, exchanged gunfire with police, and was acting as a lookout. Andoy knows this is a lie. He heard Kerwin crying out for help and saying that he had school the next day. 

Lotlot de Leon gives a shattering performance as Kerwin’s grieving mother, Marissa. Her facial expressions convey every nuance of her anger and sorrow. The scenes surrounding Kerwin’s wake and funeral procession are among the strongest in the film. Fajardo shows how his death affects the entire neighborhood. While the government may try to turn Kerwin into another junkie killed during an operation, Fajardo’s camera does the opposite. He shows the number of people affected by the loss of one life and the importance of community in Filipino culture and in the Manila slum.

Fajardo is especially strong in showing how corruption extends far beyond the individual police officers who killed Kerwin. When the incident report is obtained, the names of the arresting officers are redacted, supposedly for their own safety. There may be CCTV footage from the area, but the local councilmen do their best to make it unavailable for viewing, despite the national Freedom of Information Act which is supposed to provide journalists access to the videos. Witnesses are harassed and targeted once they speak out against the police who fake evidence and crimes. 

Andoy and Marissa eventually work with journalist Patricia Ignacio, played by Ina Feleo, and also with an attorney, as they attempt to prove what actually occurred. This portion of Silenced Nights is especially gripping because Fajardo shows not merely the police corruption but how the entire system is involved in hiding the truth and protecting the vicious police state. 

At one point, Patricia’s boss at the news station responds, “This is money”, when she shows him her story on Kerwin’s killing, demonstrating how ratings are more important than the news itself.  Despite the possible financial gain and the ethical importance of her report, upper management stops the second part of the story from being aired. It appears that the police and their connections to the media have blocked the network from broadcasting it. The corruption runs on all levels. The police can kill someone and write a report explaining why the killing was justified. The identities of the officers can be withheld. Evidence can become inaccessible. The media can investigate, but management can stop the investigation from being aired due to outside pressure and influences. Witnesses can be badgered, harassed, and have terrible things happen to them for speaking out. 

Fajardo connects this directly to the political atmosphere that allowed these killings to become normalized. At one point, an angry mother screams, “Fuck them all!” Elsewhere comes an even more pointed question: “Didn’t you hear him say, ‘Kill all junkies. Throw them in Manila Bay,’ when you voted for him?” Fajardo is not interested only in the officers pulling the triggers. He asks what happens when political rhetoric gives violence legitimacy and when ordinary people become willing to accept the killing of others because they have been told those people are criminals or addicts. In this instance Fajardo may not only be criticizing the Filipino state, as the similarities with other countries are haunting. At many points I drew connections with the current American regime and its dehumanization tactics, with its supporters spewing hate.

Fajardo has explored social injustice and marginalized communities throughout his career, including in films such as Amok, Posas, Imbisibol, and more recently The Hearing. With Silenced Nights, he again focuses on ordinary people who find themselves up against institutions with vastly more power than they possess. Andoy is not an activist or politician; he is simply a working man who happened to see something he was not supposed to see.

Visually, the film is also impressive. Fajardo uses some terrific drone and overhead shots of the neighborhood, which expand the scope beyond Andoy and Kerwin’s family. From above, the density of the community becomes striking. These images contrast with the more claustrophobic street-level sequences and allow Fajardo to make the neighborhood feel massive yet small within greater Manila. 

With Silenced Nights, Fajardo presents a bleak and shocking criticism of the power of the police state and the institutions it controls. Despite moments where its melodrama can become a little too pronounced, Silenced Nights remains gripping because of its great performances, its portrayal of the community, and the anger underneath Fajardo’s filmmaking.