Misericordia

Claudia Siefen checks in from Vienna to report on Misericordia, a blood-red rumination on self-flaggelation by Phillipino director Khavn De La Cruz.

For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.

There is that male voice leading us through this red-drenched photography as we are looking at the dying bodies during a cockfight. That voice tries to calm us by offering us pure grace in death. Fear not. That voice is actually director Khavn de la Cruz presenting us the thoughts of Christ — but his Kristo is thirsty for blood.

So fear not the bleeding streets. You will have to listen again to his words, as it is Kristo Vampiro speaking to you. And he seems so lost that he starts to explain himself. For hundreds and hundreds of years, he has been looking for the sinners. Haven’t we been looking for another saviour so badly?

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.

But what a kingdom he is looking at! It is full of mourning and greed, hunger and hate, blood and brutality, alcohol, prostitutes. But there is still some warm blood in their shadows. And it is exactly that warmth Kristo is looking for. He walks the streets at night, and it is only in the cold light of dat that Khavn covers the screen in blood, for the shadows are free only in the dark. We see unkempt men preparing for the next cockfight to make a little money to survive the next day. But what will they do with that money? Buy food for their wives and children? Pay their rents? Not at all. It is about alcohol and prostitutes. They will enter the next bar where another cockfight is taking place. These feathered victims.

Thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread,

The camera also follows a catholic ritual of self-mortification. An endless parade of young men is walking that street again, their faces covered as they whip their own backs. But as Kristo’s view of the world is already covered in dark red he does not seem to see the difference anymore.

Fear not.

The blood-covered backs all just look the same to him. It is about the taste of earth and for Kristo it is the taste of sin. He seems to remember this as the street is lined with people again, men and women and children. They look curious, anxious; some of them draw their cameras and cellphones to take a picture. That taste of sin is not there only when looking at it in purest daylight.

and forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us,
and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

As Kristo becomes tired, we can hear the sound of the whippings as he talks to us, trying to bring salvation into the world again. So he enters bars in the red light district and he watches boxing matches carried out by half naked young women.

So fear not.

But Kristo seems helpless, he is even angry with the homosexuals as he tells the audience what filthy things they want him to do. Kristo is walking the street to suck blood again. He seems to have changed a lot. And the playful tune of a mouthorgan does not help at all. The world is not a place anymore to join Kristo in shaping things down here on earth the way they are up there in heaven. Those times have gone, or perhaps have never been. Unless you turn away from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Amen.

And as the self-torture goes on like that, with its whipping and the crowd along the street screaming and shouting and thrashing the delinquents, suddenly an announcement is made via loudspeaker: "Don’t leave your possesions unattented." While all this is happening we witness some children who smile into the camera as they are whipping each other in fun, very softly and giggling along; they don’t dare to strike a blow because they know it would hurt. So amidst all that misery we find some kids treating each other with care and staring at the whole thing only with horror. So maybe the bloodlust will end some day — and rest assured, cameras will witness this ending. On that day we will turn away from all our sins and become like little children. But be prepared, we will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Claudia Siefen is a freelance writer and editor. She lives and works in Vienna, Austria.