When it comes to modern filmmakers working within the genre of slow cinema, there are few as well-known and recognizable as the Filipino director, Lav Diaz. He is best known for his hyper-minimalist and politically charged films, which have extraordinarily long runtimes, Evolution of a Filipino Family being his longest, clocking in at around 10 hours and 24 minutes. I have always viewed him as a Mount Everest-like figure within modern cinema—a fascinating artist whose movies I want to watch but am too daunted to commit to because of their length. 

That internal conflict is what ultimately made me want to prioritize Magellan at TIFF 50, as it is not only one of his shorter films, with a runtime of 2 hours and 40 minutes, but it’s also been described by critics as his most approachable feature. A historical epic about Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan sounded very unlike what I expected a typical Diaz movie to be. Still, that atypicalness is what only made me even more interested. Ultimately, I’m thankful that I went out of my way to see Magellan because not only was it unlike any other movie I saw at TIFF 50, but it was so mesmerizing that it left me even more intrigued to check out Diaz’s previous work.

As stated before, Magellan is a historical epic about the life and death of Ferdinand Magellan (Gael García Bernal), specifically focusing on his travels and conquests in Southeast Asia before ultimately meeting his fate on Mactan Island in the Philippines. I want to preface that interested viewers should not go into this film expecting Napoleon or Gladiator, as this is far from the traditional historical epic that a large studio would typically produce. Magellan is an un-Hollywood take on the genre, where there are no lavishly produced battle scenes or hype-inducing speeches, nor does it attempt to glorify its lead protagonist in any exciting way. This is, first and foremost, a meticulously slow and contemplative Lav Diaz movie, filled with long takes that last for minutes before a cut is made. 

This director is not interested in indulging in massive set pieces or action scenes. In fact, the titular character isn’t even the main subject for half the movie, as Diaz is more focused on the people Magellan conquers than the explorer himself. This is a very unconventional approach that may put some people off, primarily since the movie is shot more like an invisible observer watching what’s happening unfold rather than the usual wide shots of large-scale conflict and close-up shots of the main character that one would see in a traditional Hollywood epic. At the same time, I genuinely don’t believe this film could have been made in any other way when considering the artistic goals Diaz wanted to accomplish, because everything about this film that makes it stand out is why I ultimately fell in love with it.

At its heart, Magellan is an anti-colonial film that not only deconstructs the larger-than-life status of the famed Portuguese explorer but also presents him as a pathetically vain, selfish, and single-minded man who’s more interested in furthering his own wealth and status than anything else. He may declare to be bringing Christianity and salvation to the native people of the Philippines, saving their souls from damnation. In reality, he’s nothing more than a violent, warmongering bully who ruthlessly puts down anyone who would even dare question or push back against him, as indicated by the numerous shots of corpses lying on the ground in the aftermath of a battle. In fact, one of the first shots in Magellan is a nude Indigenous woman screaming and running away after claiming to see a white man, which is then followed by a hauntingly horrifying shot of bleeding corpses lying on a beautiful beach. 

Magellan and his conquistadors claim to bring civilization, religion, and Jesus Christ’s love to the Indigenous people, but every frame of this film will say otherwise. In many ways, these stationary wide shots of dead Indigenous people and conquistadors lying on the ground are a much more effective means of showcasing how vile Magellan and his ambitions are than any large-scale battle scenes with high production value and all the blood and gore imaginable. If the film had used the latter method, then it would have run the risk of accidentally glorifying Magellan, even if it had been just as critical of its titular character as the version of the film Diaz created. This is an instance where Diaz’s meticulously slow, yet contemplatively hypnotic style works incredibly well when tackling a prominent historical figure like Magellan. He strips away all the mythic flair that may be associated with this person, invites the audience to observe with judgment the type of man this monster truly is, and doesn’t even give Magellan the satisfaction of being portrayed in a cinematic way.

Another way that Magellan deviates from the traditional Hollywood historical epic is that it is entirely devoid of a score. The one bit of music that is in the film is diegetic, with the rest of the movie shown without an accompanying score. While this lack of non-diegetic music fits perfectly with Diaz’s slow cinema style, it also effectively forces the audience to listen to the atrocities Magellan and his men are committing against the Indigenous people. So many scenes are filled with the screams and cries of people begging their gods to save them as they get locked up in a cage or have their idols taken and burned, and the audience is forced to sit there and listen to all those pleas as each single shot goes on for several minutes before the next cut. These moments will stick with me forever, but they never feel exploitative or disrespectful. Diaz presents history as it was, as authentically as possible, and that is more terrifying than any Hollywood action scene.

Admittedly, Magellan was initially a difficult film for me to sit through in terms of maintaining engagement. I struggled to stay awake for the first half-hour of the film, but not because it was boring, but because I had a difficult time adjusting to Diaz’s style, as this was my first movie from this director. However, once I was able to get used to the movie’s filmmaking after that 30-minute mark, some part of my brain suddenly activated, and my eyes were completely glued to the scene. My attention never waned after that moment, and when the movie’s credits finally rolled, I knew right then and there that I had to watch the rest of this man’s filmography, no matter how long each film’s runtime is.

Magellan may be Diaz’s most approachable film, but at no point does it ever feel artistically compromised. This is a pure, untouched piece of art from an auteur who knows precisely what he wants, and the result is a movie that is without a doubt one of the more memorable ones I have seen at TIFF this year.

Rating: 8/10