Himala: the temptress, the virgin, and the elusive miracle.

The Filipino film Himala (Miracle, dir. Ishmael Bernal, 1982) is set in a marginal barrio awash in folk religiosity and superstition. Desert-like, poor, and believed to be cursed, the veritable nowhereland craves for a miracle. The miracle incarnate is Elsa, a deceptively simple young woman who claims to have seen the Virgin Mary and who becomes the self-styled star of a miraculous healing crusade. At the other end of the village, Nimia, a prostitute and erstwhile friend of Elsa, spins her own magic as she opens a raunchy club. The turn of events are steered by the tensions between faith and faithlessness as the community navigates through some rude awakenings.

If a film's pedigree determined its quality, Himala would certainly make a strong case. For one, the film was lensed by the late Ishmael Bernal, one of the most esteemed filmmakers of the Philippines. Like his contemporary Lino Brocka, Bernal had mastered the art of re-creating Third World ethos and had a clear-eyed view of the lives of society's weakest links. The unusual multi-layered story was penned by Ricardo Lee, the most prolific and easily the most awarded screenwriter of the Philippines. Then there is, of course, the dramatic genius of Nora Aunor, the country's premiere actress, who is said to have delivered her career best in the film. Masterfully calibrating emotion through the poetics of the gaze, Aunor essays the role of Elsa with amazing depth and authenticity.

To be sure, Himala could speak for itself as a film even without mentioning its list of notables. The ensemble of complex and intriguing characters, the effectively austere semi-documentary camera work, the richly textured mise en scene, and the haunting musical score, make Himala, in more ways than one, a miracle of Third World cinema. (1)

Can the same be said, however, of the film's representation of women?

Are there miracles for women's flourishing in Himala?

I issue the caveat that my analysis is not meant to question the acclaim deservingly accorded to Himala. My intention is to re-visit the film's representation of women and examine how this squares with the optic of feminist theological currents. That said, a second caveat is due--I do not wish to claim that I speak in behalf of women's experiences. I simply graft onto the hermeneutic impulse the film itself triggers based on its own representational trajectory. The filmic text itself lays down the bridge for a possible critical discussion with feminist theology.

I am necessarily indebted to feminist resources, interweaving various feminist theological frameworks and inclusive biblical hermeneutics in order to allow for a richer discursive engagement with the given filmic text. My use of eclectic resources in feminist theological studies, however, converge in one project--the search for authentic humanity for women. Rosemary Radford Ruether, herself a feminist theologian who has cut across feminist paradigms, (2) defines this agenda in a critical principle:

       The critical principle of feminist theology is the promotion of
       the full humanity of women. Whatever denies, diminishes, or
       distorts the full humanity of women is, therefore, appraised as
       not redemptive. Theologically speaking, whatever diminishes or
       denies the full humanity of women must be presumed not to reflect
       the divine or an authentic relation to the divine, or to reflect
       the authentic nature of things, or to be the message or work of
       an authentic redeemer or a community of redemption. The negative
       principle also implies the positive principle: what does promote
       the full humanity of women is of the Holy, it is the true nature
       of things, the authentic message of redemption and the mission of
       the redemptive community. (3)

The essay is structured in two parts. I first present a critique of androcentrism and patriarchy as informed by the works of feminist theologians--Ruether's critique of androcentrism, Phyllis Trible's rhetorical criticism of Genesis 3, Kathleen Coyle's Mariology, as well as additional resources from biblical studies. I then get into a critical analysis of the celebrated Filipino film Himala, drawing from the heuristic touchstones provided by the feminist resources earlier discussed. I pay attention to the ways in which the images of women in Himala are made to conform or resist the dichotomized woman archetypes of Judaeo-Christian thought-Eve, the temptress and Mary, the virgin.

Feminist Critique of Androcentrism and Patriarchy

The word androcentrism is derived from the Greek aner/anos, meaning male human being. It is defined as the phenomenon where the male gender is considered normative for the human and is characterized by the tendency to neglect the female perspective or contribution. (4) As such, the dominant male is central in the definition of humanness, the female is relegated to a derivative existence.

According to Ruether, the genesis of androcentrism lies in the monopolization of cultural authority and the shaping and transmittal of culture. In the case of religion, this is verified by the historical male monopoly of the teaching and preaching ministries:

       Women's exclusion from the learning and shaping of the cult and
       symbol system also means that they do not participate in the
       processes by which a religion remembers and transmits its
       traditions. As a result, religions or religious practices that do
       not exclude women are forgotten or are remembered in a way that
       makes this participation appear deviant. Androcentric religious
       culture makes the woman the "other," woman's silence and absence
       are normative.5

In androcentric gender symbolism, woman is defined and depicted as "not man." Androcentrism is the ground principle for male domination in other areas. In the social context, for instance, androcentrism operates in the social organization of patriarchy where power is always in the hand of the dominant man or men, with others ranked below in a graded series of subordinations. In patriarchy, the primary victims are women, especially, those whose situations are compounded by harsh economic realities.

Eve and Evil

A long continuum of classical Christian theologians, from Augustine to Barth, were particularly infused with the androcentric presuppositions of Platonism, which understood humanity in terms of a primal dualistic structure. Ruether contends that Platonism translated soul/body dualism into gender terms. The soul, representing the higher principle in the human, is analogous to the male; the body, the lower principle, is analogous to the female. Thus, Tertullian, using the optic of the post-Pauline letter, I Timothy 2:11-15, which emphasizes Eve's secondary status in creation and primacy in sin, chastises woman for causing the sufferings of humankind and the death of Christ:

       Do you not know that each of you is also an Eve ... You are the
       Devil's gateway. You are the unsealer of the forbidden tree. You
       are the first deserter of the divine law. You are she who
       persuaded him whom the Devil was not valiant enough to attack.
       You destroyed the image of God man. On account of your desert,
       that is death, even the Son of God had to die. (6)
       de Cult Fem 1.1

Eve is pivotal to a critique of androcentrism because "of all the stories of women in the Hebrew Bible, the story of Eve has been used more than any other as a theological base for sexism." (7) What is tragic for women is that Eve has been blamed as the culprit for the fall of humankind into evil and sin. Compared to other similar stories that influenced western culture's understanding of the roots of evil, the Eve story has been set apart and elevated to a level of theological seriousness. (8)

Phyllis Trible (9) lists some of the androcentric biases that have emerged from traditional interpretations of the story:

1) Woman tempted man to disobey and thus she is responsible for sin in the world (Gen 3:6); she is untrustworthy, gullible, and simple-minded;

2) Woman is cursed by pain in childbirth (Gen 3:16); pain in childbirth is a more severe punishment than man's struggles with the soil; it signifies that woman's sin is greater than man's;

3) Woman's desire for man (Gen 3:16) is God's way of keeping her faithful and submissive to her husband.

4) God gives man the right to rule over woman (Gen 3:16).

Because Trible's hermeneutics employs rhetorical criticism, which involves searching for life-giving "clues within the text," it becomes necessary to discuss her work in some detail.

The Yahwistic narrative of the the Garden of Eden begins with the discussion between the serpent and the woman. In Genesis 3:1, the crafty serpent twists God's prohibition in a subtle manner. It begins by posing the question, "Did God say, 'You shall not eat from any tree in the garden?'" but what God actually said in Genesis 2:16-17 was, "You may eat freely of every tree of the garden; but ..." The woman corrects the misrepresentation but in doing so, finds herself exaggerating God's command, "... nor shall you touch it." The prohibition does not mention "touching" but "eating." Traditional interpretation, like that of Terence E. Fretheim, would postulate, "It is as if she has an inkling of the weakness of her position and tries to compensate for it by an overstatement." 10 But Trible's reading interprets the woman's response differently. The woman does not merely recall what God had commanded, she interprets it in a way that ensures obedience; "Thus, the woman builds 'a fence around the Torah,' a procedure that her rabbinical successors developed fully to protect the law of God and insure obedience to it." 11 Fretheim interprets the woman as defensively tottering in an argument, Trible's reading presents her as perceptive, intelligent, and possessing hermeneutical skills.

The serpent persists in refuting the woman until she contemplates the fruit--"good for food ... delight to the eyes ... makes one wise ..."--eats it, gives some to the man, and he eats. God's prohibition is violated. Classical interpretation accuses the woman of being weak and fickle-minded, and of nagging her husband to eat the prohibited fruit, instead of listening to him and obeying him. (12)

Trible retorts that the story never speaks of the woman as "tempting" the man, nor does it say that the man hesitated or engaged in a debate as the woman did in her discussion with the serpent, "Instead, his one-act is belly-oriented, and it is an act of acquiescence, not of initiative." (13)

Further, feminist readings of Genesis 3:6 point out that the story specifies the man's presence throughout the scene, but he remained passively silent. (14) This interpretation is reflected in the late nineteenth century work of Elizabeth Cady Stanton, "The Woman's Bible":

       Then the woman fearless of death takes of the fruit; and all this
       time Adam standing beside her interposes no objection. "Her
       husband was with her" are the words of v. 6. Had he been the
       representative of the divinely appointed head in married life, he
       assuredly would have taken upon himself the burden of the
       discussion with the serpent, but no, he is silent in this crisis
       of their fate. Having had the command from God himself he
       interposes no word of warning or remonstrance, but takes the
       fruit from the hand of his wife without a protest. It takes six
       verses to describe the "fall" of woman, the fall of man is
       contemptuously dismissed in a line and a half. (15)

Based on such feminist analysis of the text, the woman is not solely responsible for the disobedience. Rather, both the man and the woman choose to disobey God, both cover their nakedness with fig leaves, and both of them hide from God's presence. Divine judgment follows and the serpent is cursed by God. The next to be judged is the woman, but the judgment is not a curse, it is not an accusatory statement: (16)

       I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing;
       in pain you shall bring forth children,
       yet your desire shall be for your husband,
       and he shall rule over you.
       Genesis 3:16 (17)

Aside from pain in childbirth, the woman will yearn for the original unity with the man that she once enjoyed but the man will not reciprocate, instead, he will exercise dominion over her. Mutuality has been destroyed. (18) Unlike the woman who is not cursed by God, the man is indirectly cursed, "cursed is the ground because of you ..." and his judgment will be unrelenting toil and "alienated labor." (19) Trible interprets God's judgments as descriptive rather than prescriptive, they are consequences of disobedience--"They witness to living death, not to fulfilled life, and this witness is a protest, indeed, a condemnation, against the contamination of creation." (20) It is not hinted in the text that woman's guilt or punishment is greater and more burdensome than that of the man. (21) After the judgment, Adam names the woman "Eve," in the same manner in which he earlier named the animals. He now rules over the woman. The name Eve means "mother of the living" (v. 3:20), a positive title, had it not been linked to her inferiority and subordination to the man. (22) Male domination is depicted in Genesis 3 as occurring after the "fall;" it is a consequence of broken mutuality caused by disobedience. It cannot be attributed to God's original plan for humanity. (23)

Feminist re-readings of Scripture exemplified by the work of Phyllis Trible present an alternative, more liberating representation of Eve that contributes to woman's flourishing.

Mary, the New Eve

       I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your
       seed and her seed; he will bruise your head, and you shall bruise
       his heel.
       Genesis 3:15

The above passage, known in Catholic Mariology as the protoevangelium, has been taken to be a foreshadowing of what was to be Mary's role as co-redemptrix in God's salvific plan. However, the advent of contemporary biblical scholarship points to the fact that the original meaning of Genesis 3:15 does not pertain to Mary of Nazareth. The early church interpreted the passage in an "accommodated sense." Kathleen Coyle noted that the male pronoun "he," referring to the offspring of Adam and Eve, was erroneously translated as "she," conveniently giving the passage a "marian sense." (24) Here emerges the two relatively opposed traditional archetypal symbols of woman. On one hand, there is Eve, the embodiment and representation of disobedient, sinful humanity and the lost paradise. On the other hand, there is Mary, the New Eve; paragon of virtue and obedience, "the highest expression of the 'feminine genius'" (25) and the symbol of paradise regained. Irenaeus thus concludes:

       And whereas Eve had disobeyed God, Mary was persuaded to obey
       God, that the Virgin might become patroness of the virgin Eve.
       And as the human race was sentenced to death by means of a
       virgin, by means of of a virgin is it delivered. A virgin's
       disobedience is balanced by a virgin's obedience. (26)

Feminist theologians consider the Eve-New Eve parallelism as problematic. Not only does the symbol of Eve-New Eve confirm the androcentric representations of Eve as the weak-willed temptress, it also puts Mary on an unreachable pedestal, alienated from the fullness of woman's experience. Irena Makarushka describes such a duality as "a curious cultural schizophrenia." (27) Eve is at one and the same time creatrix, the nurturing mother of original humanity and temptress, the weak-willed woman responsible for the fall of humanity. Mary is at one and the same time virgin and mother, whose shining image of humility and holiness imposes "unhuman" standards for the woman. Since androcentrism permeates the theological symbol systems, and this is what has happened historically, the traditional representations of Eve-New Eve have functioned to legitimize and perpetuate male domination. Mary becomes the model for the righteous woman who is kept meekly submissive and obedient to male authority.

The image of Mary overlooked by androcentric theology is the Mary of the Magnificat found in Luke 1:46-55. The Lukan Mary is far from the traditional representation of a frail, sweet, submissive Lady. Here, Mary rejoices over the her role in God's promised salvation. While visiting her cousin Elizabeth, she breaks into a song that is considered as one of the most subversive literary pieces ever written. The Magnificat is a powerful prophetic speech, announcing a radical, definitive agenda for structural change to be wrought by the coming reign of God. It is a dangerous message, an eschatological reversal of fortunes, seriously threatening to the powerholders of the time. Herman Hendrickx identifies three revolutions being spoken of in the Magnificat--a moral revolution (v. 51b "... he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts."), a social revolution (v.52 "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly ..."), and an economic revolution (v. 53 "... he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent away the rich empty."). (28) The image of Mary evoked by this pericope is that of a woman who is secure in her role in God's salvation. She is filled with courage and is not cowered into silence by the powers that be. She is a prophetess, one who is able to ponder upon the signs of the times and to interpret them in the light of God's Word. And yet, the Mary of the Magnificat is a poor woman in a patriarchal world. This links her to women in history who have suffered the injustice of male domination. "The exaltation of debased Mary begins the liberation of the people, begins the actualization of the option for women and the poor." (29)

At this juncture, the film Himala shall be analyzed using the above feminist discussions as heuristic points of reference. Does the universe of Himala portray an androcentric/ patriarchal landscape? Are the key women characters made to confirm or obviate the traditional representations of Eve and Mary?

Himala: a Summary

Himala's locus is Barrio Cupang, a backward, rain-deprived Philippine village, sinking in the mire of poverty and desperation. Against this harsh backdrop, superstition has taken over the lives of the locals. They are convinced that Cupang is cursed and God-forsaken. One day, a solar eclipse triggers talk about an impending apocalypse and as if to confirm this folkloric sentiment, a young woman named Elsa claims to have seen the Virgin Mary in an apparition. She notes that the Virgin Mary had a bullet wound on her left breast. When Elsa confesses her vision to her mother, she is immediately sent to the village shaman who flagellates her with reeds in an attempt to exorcise her demons. But the appearance of stigmata on her hands and a healing miracle wins converts for Elsa and not even the warnings of the parish priest could dissuade her from inaugurating a healing ministry. With her coterie of women disciples led by her close friend Chayong, Elsa begins a faith-healing ministry and villagers flock to her in hopes of experiencing signs and wonders. Meantime, parish attendance dwindles dramatically.

A conspicuously dressed woman makes an entrance to Cupang. She is Nimia, erstwhile gangmate of Elsa and Chayong. Expelled by intolerant village folk for getting pregnant out of wedlock, Nimia fled to Manila where she worked as a prostitute. The outcast's return mission is to establish a girlie night club in Cupang, much to the righteous consternation of Elsa and Chayong who shun contact with her. Droves of fanatics, kibbitzers, and tourists soon flock to Cupang, among them, a photo-journalist. Meantime, Elsa's devotees begin selling miraculous water and religious articles, the town mayor thinks of recreating Cupang as a new Lourdes, while Nimia's bar draws in lusty clients. Moreover, the frenzy of activity results in an increase in criminality. Cupang is thrown into a state of social schizophrenia--devout popular religiosity on one hand, crass commercialism and lawless debauchery on the other.

A string of events turn the tide. During private devotions, Elsa and Chayong are raped by drug addicts and there is no miracle from the Virgin Mary to save them. The two women claim that demons attacked them but the photo-journalist's camera secretly captures the incident on video. One misfortune after another, among them, Elsa's unwanted pregnancy and Chayong's suicide, put a halt to the healing crusade. On the other side of the village, Nimia's bar is closed down by the mayor.

A freak downpour suddenly ensues just as the disenfranchised followers begin to believe that Elsa had become pregnant from an "immaculate conception." More than ready to welcome a miraculous revival, the crowd re-groups around Elsa as Nimia heads for the opposite direction to return to Manila. Elsa finds herself facing the crowd again and makes a stunning announcement:

       ELSA: I have a confession to make ... there is no miracle! The
       miracle is in the hearts of people, in all our hearts! We create
       our own miracles, our own curses, our own gods....

An assassin's bullet pierces Elsa in the left breast and she breathes her last. Pandemonium breaks loose. Elsa's lifeless body is surfed though the crowd like a relic. A woman follower "canonizes" her as a saint and entreats the multitude to continue Elsa's devotions. With knees bent in worship, they all inch their way back to the apparition hill.

Nimia, the Temptress

My analysis focuses on the meaning-making conjured up by the portrayal of the two pivotal women-characters, Nimia and Elsa.

In Himala, Nimia fits into the footprint of the traditional Eve who is imaged as fleshly and prone to sin. The costuming of Nimia visually communicates the attributes of her character; her clothes cling to her body like a second skin and function to highlight her unabashed sensuality. She is physical, earthy, and at home with sexiness. Nimia's background story validates this traditional Eve image when we learn that she had been chastised by the village folk for getting pregnant out of wedlock. Forlorn by her lover and failing to solicit the sympathy of family and friends, Nimia was virtually driven out of Cupang. She was forced to flee to the city where she had the baby aborted, and began working as a prostitute. In this equation, Nimia alone is made to bear the guilt and punishment for what the community perceives as sexual immorality. In contrast, her male lover is completely absolved, goes on with life placidly, and continues to drink gin-and-sin without eliciting any moral reaction from the village folk. As far as the collective is concerned, it is, unquestionably, the fault of the temptress. Thus, Nimia is a woman crucified on the cross of patriarchy. It is not uncommon to find similar characterizations of women in other Filipino films. Filipino writer Rafael Ma. Guerrero rightly maps the historical sentencing of women to "martyrdom" in Philippine cinema:

       Consequently, to project the desired image of Filipino womanhood
       on the screen, it has become necessary to beset her with every
       conceivable emotional, physical and spiritual dilemma so much so
       as to transform our heroines into veritable martyrs. Women in
       Tagalog movies endure much, because--as Heine said of God--it is
       their job. (30)

It is worth mentioning the titles Karnal (1984) and Milagros (1997), which are, ironically, two films lensed by Marilou Diaz-Abaya, the most eminent woman-filmmaker in the Philippines. In both of Abaya's films, the key women characters are severely punished at every turn by the men in their lives, as if they were not subjugated enough by the lopsided gender equation of their patriarchal world. In Himala, as well as in the two comparative examples, women are imaged as present-day incarnations of the traditional Eve. The androcentric morality by which these women characters are judged has eerie resonances with Tertullian's misogynistic de cult fem 1.1 where he unequivocally chastises Eve as the very gateway of the Devil and who is singularly guilty for the fall of humanity and, ultimately, the death of Jesus Christ.

Living up to her image as a woman of ill-repute, Nimia returns to Cupang to put up a girlie sex joint. The timing of Nimia's return and the sheer vulgarity of her intentions importantly coincide with Elsa's booming miracle crusade. Nimia is presented as Elsa's foil, the polar opposite of the virgin, as will become clear when I analyze the latter's portrayal. Her fleshly project is meant to dramatize the other end of the Eve-Mary dichotomy.

Interestingly, she is is set to weave her own brand of signs and wonders. Nimia does a sleight-of-the-hand magic trick--she pulls out a cigarette stick from her father's armpit. Charmed, her previously aloof father warms up to her. Shortly before the club's opening, a couple of kids peek through the thatched walls as the bar girls slip into sexy clothes. Nimia spots them and without a hint of malice, opens her blouse and shows them her breasts--"Is this what you want to see?" But later, Nimia performs her cigarette trick and as this tickled her father into acceptance earlier, she wins the kids' approval. Shown enjoying a game of chase with them, Nimia is foregrounded against a sunset in an apparent homage to the "dance of death" scene in Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal (1958). The goldenorange hue of the natural lighting clothes her in divinized radiance. The children are fascinated and mesmerized. In this sequence, Nimia is portrayed as Elsa's shadow, questioning if the latter's ministry is not a form of trickery itself. While Elsa has miracles to perform, Nimia has magic spells to cast on Cupang.

Nimia's bold return to Cupang suggests that she has no intention of playing the role of victimized outcast. She asserts herself before the very people who condemned her and dares to acquit herself before the purest and most innocent, the village children. She refuses to be a poor, banished daughter of Eve. As it will turn out in the film, however, it will take more than magic before Nimia, imaged as Eve the temptress, is able to return to "Paradise."

Elsa, the Virgin

From the first few sequences of Himala, it is established that Elsa does not fit the mold of the usual Cupang resident. Her beginnings, for one, are clouded in mystery. As an infant, Elsa was found by her adoptive mother in an isolated, hilly part of town, alone and abandoned. "Putok sa buho"--from out of nowhere--was the pejorative given to her from her childhood days. Curiously, a printed likeness of the Virgin Mary was found pinned on her baby clothes, a foreboding symbol.

Quiet, reflective and interior, Elsa radiates a certain mystical aura. When the barrio is shrouded by a solar eclipse, the disoriented town is plunged in a state of anxiety and panic. In stark contrast, Elsa is calm and reflective, as if the phenomenon was the fulfillment of something she had foreknowledge of. In the eerie darkness, she heads for the isolated hill and there, encounters the apparition of the Virgin Mary. Elsa conforms with the traditional image of the virgin--chaste, spiritual, set apart from the rest. Her claims of an epiphanous encounter with the Virgin Mary only work to sacralize this elevated status. Additionally, Elsa has remained a virgin at age 24. Her mother frets over her eccentric behavior and sees it as the cause of her impending "old maid" status. She fears that her daughter is too peculiar to fit the mold of an ideal wife. What is reflected here is a value system that views woman as having a derivative status, she cannot be fully realized until she finds a man who will marry her. To believe otherwise is considered a perversion. (31) Elsa, however, seems transfixed to a "higher calling" and appears unperturbed by such social pressures.

When her healing prayer yields successful results, Elsa's disciples, who are all women, dress her in a religious postulant's white uniform. Elsa's costuming works in polar contrast to that of Nimia described earlier. Garbed in immaculate white, she comes across as a woman of purity and virginal reticence. She is ready to step into the role of God's anointed, the high priestess whom the desperate village folk had been praying for. However, we soon learn that this would incur the ire and resentment of the male religious authorities of Cupang. When Elsa reveals to her mother that she witnessed an apparition of the Virgin Mary, she is brought to the local shaman who promptly flagellates her in a futile exorcism rite. The exorcism suggests that the shaman identifies Elsa's experience with the demonic. Moreover, the parish priest also insinuates that Elsa's mystical experience may have originated from the devil himself:

      PARISH PRIEST: At times, the Devil disguises himself ... the Lord
      will not create a miracle to cover-up for human frailties.

It is notable that there is an immediate naming of Elsa's experiences as demonic by the male religious authority figures. This is consonant with the dynamics of androcentric false consciousness, configured by Ruether as an interrelated two-step phenomenon of false projection and exploitation:

        The authentic good self is identified with the favored center
        who dominates the cultural interpretation of humanness, and
        others are described in negative categories in contrast. This
        negative perception of the other is then reinforced when the
        favored group is able to gain power over the others, either to
        annihilate them or reduce them to servile status. The two
        elements are intertwined: the perception of the other as
        inferior, less capable of the good self, rationalizes
        exploitation of them. (32)

In Himala, the identity of "good self" is appropriated by the male religious authorities. This is, in turn, inversely expressed in the false-naming of Elsa as the "bad self." She is after all, overstepping traditional gender borders buttressed by centuries of androcentric religious culture, expressed here in both folk religiosity and Roman Catholicism. The assertion of male religious power, however, fails to dent Elsa's steely determination. As she undergoes the pain and humiliation of the shaman's exorcism rite, a close-up shot reveals an expression of defiance etched on Elsa's face. Similarly, there is a glint of rebellion in Elsa's eyes as she listens to the parish priest's rebuke. It becomes clear that Elsa will not be dissuaded from carrying out her own plans and, indeed, she proceeds to inaugurate her own healing ministry without the blessings of the male religious leaders.

Moreover, the camera confirms that she is made up of sturdier material than her diminutive frame suggests. Another close-up shot reveals Elsa breaking out into a subtle, knowing smile as the photo-journalist focuses his prying lens on her. Here, she betrays a masterful self-awareness. This becomes even more apparent when Elsa is asked in an interview why it is the Virgin Mary, not Jesus or God the Father who appears. Her eloquently simple reply makes reference to an imagined divine matriarchy that rises to supplant the classical religious patriarchal order:

       ELSA: What was of the father's has passed ... it is now the time
       of the mother.

Elsa's pronouncement, pregnant as it is with subversive, prophetic-liberating intent, configures the godhead as feminine in a manner akin to Ruether's analogical midrash which revives the long lost image of a primal mother:

        No Sabbaoth, my Son. I am the Mother of gods and humans,
        Creatrix of all things. I am your Mother, too. Even when you
        deny me, I am still here. (33)

Further, Elsa's inner strength finds validation in the sequence where she and her faithful companion Chayong are raped by addicts. Chayong is totally overcome by the paroxysm of emotion resulting from the trauma even after confiding in the parishing priest. Eventually, she erodes away and commits suicide. Elsa is undaunted, even in her guilt and profound remorse for failing to invoke a miracle that may have saved them from being raped and violated. Nothing could break her spirit--not her unwanted pregnancy, nor the death of two boys she fails to heal; her discredited ministry in peril of closure; and the ire and suspicion of a disillusioned community.

Despite being fettered by the patriarchal fences of her world, the character of Elsa transcends the traditional mold of Mary and mirrors the Mary of the Magnificat. Elsa becomes a threat to the powers that be and emerges as an emblem of social change. Acting as a high priestess to the community, she defies the institutional male spiritual leaders of Cupang--the parish priest and the shaman. Indignant over male domination, she chooses to confess the trauma of her pregnancy to her mother and not to the parish priest. She stands firm in her dignity; she who is the oppressed woman refuses to be destroyed by patriarchal phallic-driven violence. But just as hints of liberation and flourishing in Elsa's character become imminent, Himala reneges on its promise.

Two Women in an Androcentric World

      Women suffer when they choose to act in situations great and
      small to bring about the betterment of human life through the
      pursuit of human rights, healing, justice, and peace. This
      experience too betrays an admixture of creative power and pain,
      for the action being taken faces off with antagonistic structures
      of sin, which are not deconstructed without fierce struggle. In
      every case these and other such women signal the presence of many
      others in the same context who commit countless acts of courage to
      resist injustice and bring about change, and who suffer the
      consequences. (34)

Two women, the temptress and the virgin. One weaves magic, the other works miracles. Both share the cruel context of subjugation and abuse by an androcentric world.

In Himala, Nimia is made to fit the mold of Eve, the temptress, who is blamed and banished for her primacy in sin and death. When she breaks away from this mold and commits herself to life, she is made to revert and be as she was, like Eve, despised and banished. She leaves Cupang exactly as she arrived, a prostitute.

Elsa is made to fit the mold of Mary, the new Eve. Chaste, asexual, and pious, she is put on a lofty pedestal and revered by the townsfolk. When she asserts herself and defies this traditional archetype and stands in the fullness of the truth of her own person, she is exterminated by a bullet, a brazen symbol of machismo.

A glimmer of hope for women can be seen in Himala's "rule-breaking" approach. (35) The characters of Nimia and Elsa, as rule-breakers, challenge the traditional images of woman designated by androcentrism and patriarchy. Both characters symbolize the revolutionary alteration in the the feminist re-appropriation of the the images of Eve and Mary. The male-dominated society, however, as depicted in the film, would have none of this revolutionary alteration. Elsa and Nimia are made to revert to the classical androcentric dichotomy of Eve and Mary. Any defiance is considered a perversion and promptly countered by the full force of patriarchal violence.

Ricardo Lee, who wrote the screenplay of Himala, hypothesizes about revisions in the script's dark, hopeless ending, albeit an afterthought:

        If I were to re-write Himala today, I would inject a little more
        optimism, a little more faith, not just in the unexplainable but
        in the characters themselves. (36)

It may well be that the missing shades of redemption would have allowed the fuller flourishing of Elsa and Nimia as women characters in the film. But in the androcentric universe of Himala, miracles for the flourishing of women remain elusive. As Elsa prophesied in the film's riveting denouement--"walang himala" ... there is no miracle.

Notes

1. Himala's harvest of critical acclaim attests to its stature as a noteworthy example of Third World Cinema. Aside from numerous local awards, the film was a finalist at the 1982 Berlin Film Festival and bagged the Bronze Hugo Prize at the 1983 Chicago International Film Festival.

2. Susan Frank Parsons, Feminism and Christian Ethics (Cambridge: University Press, 1996) p. 176.

3. Rosemary Radford Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk: Towards a Feminist Theology (London: SCM Press, 1983) p. 18-19.

4. Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is: The Mystery of God in Feminist Theological Discourse (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Co., 1994), p. 24.

5. Ruether's discussion on Androcentrism appears in Mircea Eliade, ed. The Encyclopedia of Religion, vol. 1 (New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1987), p. 272-275.

6. de Cult Fem as quoted in Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, p. 18-19.

7. Alice Ogden Bellis, Helpmates, Harlots, and Heroes: Women's Stories in the Hebrew Bible (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994) p. 45.

8. Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, p. 166.

9. Phyllis Trible, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979) p. 73. p. 73.

10. Terence E. Fretheim, Creation, Fall, and Flood (Minneapolis: Augsberg Publishing, 1969) p. 83.

11. Trible, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, p. 110.

12. Mary Hayter, The New Eve in Christ: The Use and Abuse of the Bible in the Debate About Women in the Church (Grand Rapids: W.B. Eerdmans, 1987) p. 103.

13. Trible, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, p. 112.

14. Ibid.

15. Ruether quotes Elizabeth Cady Stanton's commentary on Genesis 3 in "The Woman's Bible." Womanguides: Readings Toward a Feminist Theology (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985) p. 97.

16. Trible, God and the Rhetoric of Sexuality, p. 127.

17. All Scripture references in this essay are based on The Holy Bible, NRSV (New Revised Standard Version) (Iowa Falls: World Bible Publishers, 1989).

18. Ibid., p. 128.

19. Trible contrasts Adam's alienated labor from the original "erotic activity of creation." Ibid., p. 130.

20. Ibid., p. 123.

21. Ruether, Womanguides. p. 84.

22. Bellis, Helpmates, Harlots, and Heroes, p. 50.

23. Ibid., p. 63.

24. Kathleen Coyle, Mary in the Christian Tradition: From a Contemporary Perspective (Manila: Divine Word, 1998) p. 82.

25. Pope John Paul II Letter from Pope John Paul II to the Women of the World, 10, in Cervellera, Bernardo and McBride, Marion S. eds. God is on Woman's Side (Kowloon: B. Cervellera, 1995.) p. 84.

26. Coyle refers to Walter Burghardt's Mary in Western Patristic Thought ("Mariology" vol.1) in Mary in the Christian Tradition, p. 83.

27. Irena Makarushka, Women Spoken For: Images of Displaced Desire in Conrad H. Oswalt Jr. and Martin, Joel W., eds. Screening the Sacred: Religion, Myth, Ideology in Popular American Film (Boulder: Westview Press, 1995) p. 144.

28. Herman Hendrickx, Social Justice in the Bible (Quezon City: Claretians, 1985) p. 86.

29. Herman Hendrickx, The Third Gospel for the Third World, vol. 1 (Quezon City: Claretians, 1996) p. 136.

30. Rafael Ma. Guerrero, Tagalog Movies: A New Understanding in Readings in Philippine Cinema (Manila: Experimental Cinema of the Philippines, 1983), p. 112.

31. Louise J. Kaplan counters that a woman either takes the risk of breaking free from socialized gender borders or acquiesce to perversions of the feminine--" ... to explore and express the fullness of her sexuality, her ambitions, her emotional and intellectual capacities, her social duties, her tender virtue, would entail who knows what truly revolutionary alteration to the social conditions that demean and constrain her. Or she may go on trying to fit into the order of the world and thereby consign herself forever to the bondage of some stereotype of normal femininity--a perversion, if you will." Female Perversions: The Temptations of Madame Bovary (Penguin Books, 1991) p. 528.

32. Ruether, Sexism and God-Talk, p. 162.

33. Ibid., p. 2.

34. Johnson, She Who Is, p. 256.

35. John Fiske points out that "The pleasures of breaking rules or exposing their arbitrariness are resistive pleasures of the subordinate." Television Culture (London: Routledge, 1987) p. 235.

36. Ricky Lee, Si Tatang at Mga Himala ng Ating Panahon: Koleksyon ng mga Akda ni Ricky Lee (Manila: Experimental Cinema of the Philippines) p. 82. Translation mine.