“Diaz effectively demonstrates how colonialism continues to shape Philippine society in the present.”

2016 Golden Lion winner and auteur Lav Diaz returns to the Lido for an impressive ninth time with Let Us Through, Dear Ancestors (Makikiraan Po), yet another entry in his continued examination of Filipino colonialism. Set in 1617, during a period when churches were being constructed across the Philippines, the film follows Spanish friar Padre Enciso (Bart Guingona) as he oversees the construction of a new church. He appoints his son, Dungwen (Christian Bables), to supervise the delivery and guarding of limestone — a valuable and highly sought-after material at the time. What initially appears to be a simple construction project, however, is part of Padre Enciso’s larger effort to assert authority over the native population. By using Catholicism and the construction of the church as instruments of control, he seeks to exert power over the community.

While not a sequel to last year’s Magellan, the film still feels connected to the same universe, particularly in its depiction of a society organized into a rigid hierarchy that places some at the top while relegating others to the margins. The film’s use of church construction as a symbol feels deliberate, particularly as Padre Enciso’s project has continued for over a decade and has claimed countless lives in the process — all in the name of a vanity project disguised as an act of salvation. Those who challenge his authority are met with punishment, as demonstrated by the arrest of the female healer Babayeng Indimatandog (director/actress Isabel Sandoval). To Padre Enciso, the natives are expected to view these actions as favors for which they should be grateful. Yet behind this façade of salvation lies a system sustained by exploitative demands and illicit acquisitions.

After more than three centuries of Spanish colonization, the structures of hierarchy and power established during that period continue to echo in the Philippines today. While the Spanish colonial elites are no longer the ones directly exercising this power, their position has, in many ways, been replaced by political dynasties that concentrate power within a select few. The characters may have changed, but the underlying pattern remains: power is sustained at the expense of those without it. In this sense, Diaz effectively demonstrates how colonialism continues to shape Philippine society in the present. While it may be set in the 17th century, Let Us Through, Dear Ancestors serves as a continuous and unfortunate reminder of an abusive system that remains pervasive in Filipino society to this day.