Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
Philippine cinema rode the crest with films on revered national hero Dr Jose P. Rizal (1), the most notable of
which was Jose Rizal by acclaimed director Marilou Diaz-Abaya. A record-breaking (by Philippine standards), US$2
million biographical epic, Jose Rizalwent on to become the most successful Filipino film of all time. Through a
meticulous accumulation of historical and mythical detail, Diaz-Abaya masterfully creates a commemorative,
hagiographical portrait of the 19th century martyr – a Rizal monument painted in light. (2) She also settles a
bitterly-debated issue once and for all: Rizal’s alleged retraction of his strongly anti-colonial and anti-clerical
writings. In Diaz-Abaya’s film, Rizal is the prodigal son who returns to the colonial Catholic religion of his
oppressors and renounces the very works that “served to restore dignity, self respect, pride, and patriotism among
the Filipinos”. (3)
The original choice for director of Jose Rizal was the reclusive film artist Mike de Leon. (4) He was, however,
dismayed by the production delays that beset the dream project and walked out shortly after shooting began. But
all was not lost for de Leon. Working outside the studio system, he personally funded an alternative Rizal film
project that promised to break the closed marble-and-concrete representation of Diaz-Abaya’s Jose Rizal. His
vision was to create an open-ended Rizal film that had more questions than answers:
We face the issue head on. It is not merely a question of whether he returned to the fold or not. What’s more
important is did he retract his writings, his pronouncements, his lifework? If he did, then what’s so heroic about
him? (5)
That said, de Leon puts Rizal’s alleged retraction and along with it, Spanish colonial Catholicism, on trial. Jose
Rizal’s shadow, the satirical independent film 3rd World Hero (original title “Bayaning 3rd World”), premiered
before a Manila arthouse audience in 2000. Wickedly hilarious yet insightfully cerebral, 3rd World Hero is the first
Filipino feature film in many years to be shot entirely in black and white, a visual option that serves to cue the
In this essay, I examine the ways in which 3rd World Hero represents colonial clerical power within the rubric of
the retraction controversy. 3rd World Hero deconstructs what the mainstream Jose Rizal takes for granted and
interrogates the cacophony of voices surrounding the national hero’s final moments. Social-historical analysis, as
such, is constitutive for the film’s representational trajectory. De Leon does not just rely on the thematic, more
literary aspects of the film’s storyline to carry out this filmic deconstruction. He traipses along the threshold of
language, in the grammar of stylistic strategies, to create a film where visuals provide socio-political comment and
not just avant-gardist embellishments. In this regard, 3rd World Hero importantly resonates with the project of
not just Third World Cinema, but of a type of political film known as Third Cinema. I discuss Third Cinema in some
detail further on. Suffice it to say at this point that Third Cinema critical theory provides the discursive theoretical
3rd World Hero opens with a prologue; we see cut-to-cut stills from an elementary school textbook featuring
various Philippine national symbols. It ends with a frame that says “National Hero – Jose Rizal” (Figure 1). The
narrator introduces two main characters – a director and a screenwriter – brainstorming on a Rizal film project. It
The two filmmakers embark on an investigative research to explore the cinematic potential of Rizal’s biography.
We see a series of eclectic flash-cuts as the filmmakers review the “omnipresence” of Rizal in Philippine culture.
Rizal had been canonized as a saint by folk religion, memorialised in the one-peso Philippine coin, and revered as a
demi-god by filmmakers and historians. In addition, the national hero’s name had been used for every imaginable
purpose – from naming streets to funeral homes. When the writer suggests a commemorative Rizal film for the
Philippine centennial, the director dismisses it as tawdry, as though Rizal could be sold like a deodorant. (7)
The filmmakers rummage through Rizal’s life and zero-in on a controversial document which allegedly contains the
hero’s retraction of his writings, his renunciation of freemasonry and his full submission to the authority of the
Catholic church. They are suspicious, believing the retraction to be out-of-sync with Rizal’s character and
convictions.
The film then blurs space-time boundaries as it sends the two filmmakers on assignment to interview the key
characters surrounding the hero’s life. Rizal’s mother Doña Teodora; siblings Paciano, Narcisa and Trining; his love
interest, the Hong Kong-raised Irish woman Josephine Bracken; and Jesuit fraile (8) Padre Balaguer all give
testimonies of various shades of grey. The filmmakers finally come face-to-face with the man himself and they are
frustrated that he does not provide the answers they need for their film project.
The two filmmakers end up with as many questions as they had in the beginning. 3rd World Heroreaches its open-
ended dénouement: Rizal’s formidable body of work, and, indeed, the witness of his life as an exemplary
A reprisal of the prologue featuring the intercut images of Philippine national symbols serves as the film’s
which 3rd World Hero represents the contentious issue. A noteworthy feature of the filmic text is its employment
of ideologically-determined stylistic codes that work to interrogate the religious-political power-play in Rizal’s
19th century colonial milieu. I submit that de Leon’s stylistic strategies importantly resonate with the trajectory of
Third Cinema where ideology and style are mutually imbricated to portray a Third World emancipative vision.
Third Cinema does not so much point to a film’s geographical origins as it does a film’s dedication to an authentic
representation of Third World peoples who continue in the struggle to become agents of their own history in the
postcolonial aftermath:
What determines Third Cinema is the conception of the world, and not the genre or an explicit political
approach. Any story, any subject can be taken up by Third Cinema. Third Cinema is a cinema of decolonisation,
which expresses the will to national liberation, anti-mythic, anti-racist, anti-bourgeois, and popular. (9)
Third Cinema had its genesis in 1968 when Argentinean filmmakers Fernando Solanas and Octavio Getino launched
a social and artistic movement with a subversive agenda: that of establishing a “guerrilla cinema” geared at
countering the overwhelming dominance of western cinema. Solanas and Getino distinguished Third Cinema from
other forms of cinema, necessarily classified as First Cinema (commercial cinema epitomized by Hollywood) and
Second Cinema (represented mainly by European Auteurist Cinema). Drawing mainly from the paradigm of
decolonisation as conceptualised in Frantz Fanon’s 1961 book The Wretched of the Earth (10), and driven further
by the “film experience” of creating the radical documentary La Hora de los Hornos (The Hour of the Furnaces,
Argentina, 1968), the Argentinean filmmakers metaphorised Third Cinema filmmaking as virtual revolutionary
warfare: “The camera is the inexhaustible expropriator of image-weapons; the projector, a gun that can shoot 24
In its later evolutionary turn, Third Cinema had become less strident and more methodical. Ethiopian film scholar
Teshome Gabriel is credited for the development of a critical theory of Third Cinema where cinematic style and an
ideology of Third World emancipation are inextricably linked. For Gabriel, the Third Cinema experience is “moved
by the requirements of its social action and contexted and marked by the strategy of that action”. (12) As such, he
contends that “Style is only meaningful in the context of its use – in how it acts on culture and helps illuminate the
Presently, Third Cinema is no longer considered as a demolition order against Hollywood and Auteur Cinema.
Rather, it is dialectically angled towards giving voice and visibility to socially-resonant films that foreground the
Third World experience and perspective. It is the exigency of social and historical analysis – “a rational
interpretation of a historically defined reality so that a line of causation can be established” (14) – not sheer Third
World miserabilism, that is constitutive for Third Cinema. Alongside the conjoined aspects of style and ideology,
this is the linchpin that distinguishes Third Cinema from films belonging to the wider political genre. The canon of
Third Cinema includes Ousmane Sembene’s Xala (Senegal, 1974), Tomás Gutiérrez Alea’s La Ultima Cena(The Last
Supper, Cuba, 1976), and Kidlat Tahimik’s Mababangong Bangungot (Perfumed Nightmare, The Philippines, 1976).
While Third Cinema holds the distinction of being the only major critical theory of film that did not emanate from
the west, it is ironic that there has been an almost complete blackout of discussions relating to Southeast Asian
Cinema, let alone Philippine Cinema. The oversight is evident in Gabriel’s groundbreaking work and carries on to
the current scholarly debates on Third Cinema. My re-situating 3rd World Hero as an example of Philippine Third
Cinema is a modest effort to fill in at least one of the missing jigsaw pieces.
At this juncture, I draw from the heuristic touchstones proffered by Third Cinema critical theory as I examine the
ways in which 3rd World Hero represents colonial clerical power within the rubric of the Rizal retraction issue.
In 3rd World Hero, which, as earlier mentioned, is a film within a film, the search for the cinematic in Rizal’s life
is first framed within the context of Philippine colonial history. This socio-historical context is seen through the
optic of the two filmmaker-characters themselves. This is, after all, a film about their home country, and it is not
possible for them to detach from their cultural base and assume a position of complete objectivity. The
filmmaker-characters of 3rd World Hero are properly motivated by their own queries as members of the culture in
question and it is clear then that their filmic investigation will not be value-free.
From the outset, the epistemological resonance between 3rd World Hero and the Third Cinema project can be
drawn. Teshome Gabriel points out that the Third Cinema filmmaker is unequivocally committed to a liberative,
decolonising vision and is thus unapologetically partisan for the colonized culture.
In selecting the themes and styles for his or her work, the filmmaker’s choice is both ideologically determined
and circumscribed. Since the filmmaker disclaims a “non-class” or “above-class” ideology, he/she is necessarily
committed to a certain ideological mode of perception and a codified way of interpreting not only culture but
reality itself. (15)
Visually, the appearance of Rizal himself, stealthily darting through the filmmakers’ space-time sphere at violative
turns, suggests that they cannot separate themselves as objective onlookers; the filmmakers are themselves
imbricated in the investigation. They are not just filming, they are filming as postcolonial Filipinos.
Figure 2
Figure 3
As they begin their investigation of Rizal and the retraction issue, the filmmakers re-visit the sentence of history
on their home country. They trace the successive colonial occupations of The Philippines in parodic fashion,
referring to the colonizers in irreverent, present-day colloquial terms: the Spaniards as “coño boys”, the
Americans as “Am-boys” and the Japanese as “Honda boys”. Simultaneously, the film presents flash cuts of still
photographs for each colonizing period. It is notable that the image used to represent the “coño boys” features a
Filipino hanging from a wooden cross while a Spanish torturer gives him a lashing with a whip. The camera is
positioned just behind the shoulder of the crucified so we get a good high angle of the characters looking on, two
of which are Spanish sentries. The other two are Spanish frailes, and standing between the clerics is a Filipino man
identifiable from the native straw hat he wears. One of the frailes points an accusing finger towards the crucified
man and he appears to be explaining the moral lesson behind the bloody spectacle to the onlooking Filipino beside
him (Figure 2). The still, which recalls the imagery of medieval Spanish inquisition, appears twice in the film’s first
quarter and we get to see that it actually hangs on the wall of the filmmaker-characters’ office. The telling image
strategically displayed in the filmmakers’ work-space presupposes a “hermeneutic of suspicion” that will pervade
the inquiry. It is a re-assertion that the filmmakers are native informants whose own postcolonial questions are
reflected in the film. Another frame hanging alongside the crucifixion photograph – a reproduction of the actual
1896 photograph of Rizal’s execution (Figure 3) – provides the validation of the filmmakers’ hermeneutics of
suspicion. Could the syntagmatic organization of the crucifixion photograph vis a vis the actual still of Rizal’s
execution be iconic of a religious-political conspiracy surrounding Rizal’s alleged deathbed retraction and, thus,
indexical of the outcome of the investigation? The filmmakers’ suspect that the fingerprints of Spanish clerical
Me retracto de todo corazon de cuanto en mis palabras, escritos, inpresos y conducta ha habido contrario a mi
cualidad de hijo de la Inglesia Catolica. Creo y profeso cuanto ella enseña y me somento a cuanto ella manda.
I retract with all my heart whatever in my words, writings, publications and conduct has been contrary to my
character as son of the Catholic Church. I believe and I confess whatever she teaches and I submit to whatever she
demands.
The above statement formed part of the retraction document (17) attributed to Jose Rizal. It was dated 29
December 1896, a day before his execution ordered by a Spanish court martial. Rizal had written two politically-
leavened novels in Europe, Noli Me Tangere (Touch Me Not) and El Filibusterismo (The Subversion), both of which
represented a strident satirical indictment of the unholy conjugal oppression committed by the colonial governing
authorities and the Roman Catholic religion in occupied Philippines. Rizal had been constantly hounded by the
Spanish authorities who accused him of being the central rallying figure of a grassroots independence movement
threatening to revolt against Mother Spain. Four copies of the retraction documents had surfaced after Rizal’s
execution, each one allegedly expressing Rizal’s turnabout from freemasonry, his renunciation of all his writings
and his repentant submission to the authority of the Catholic church. None of these documents, however, have
been convincingly authenticated, let alone proven, as having been penned by Rizal himself. Nonetheless, official
3rd World Hero’s investigation begins with its prologue, presenting Philippine national symbols most Filipinos learn
by rote from childhood. The crudely-drawn images of a typical schoolbook are presented one after another in cut-
to-cut edit, like elementary school flashcards used as memory aids. With this as a point of departure, the film
establishes the way in which official versions of Philippine history, including Rizal’s heroism and retraction, are
treated as mere givens in learning institutions and thus remain unquestioned. Like most schoolchildren of my
generation, I, for one, was taught that Rizal died a Roman Catholic. The filmmaker-characters presumably share
this uncritical indoctrination and they now seek to deconstruct it in “an investigation of the national hero status of
Rizal” and, for them, the retraction controversy is the rubric within which to do just that.
We see a slide projection of the retraction document as the director presents the facts of the case. He notes that
opinions about the retraction have always been polarized between those who accept the documents as genuine,
and those who believe that a religious-political conspiracy fabricated the story and forged Rizal’s penmanship.
Two comparative images are intercut to problematise the contentious issue through mise en scène. The first shows
what could be Rizal’s hand, writing the retraction with a feathered pen. The second is more intriguing: it shows
hooded monks seated in a row, forging copies of the retraction assemblyline-style, with one of them photocopying
the forged documents. The representation is humorously satirical and, right away, it questions the validity of the
retraction documents as too obviously farcical to be believable. The blurring of time boundaries, as evoked by the
incongruous blending of 19th Century monks and a photocopying machine, represents the filmmakers’ present-day
suspicion of the probable role of the Catholic church in a conspiracy against Rizal. Again, it is shown here how
imbricated the filmmakers are in the Rizal project. Moreover, it indicates that the investigation will play out as an
ideological analysis of the retraction issue based on their serious doubts about the authenticity of the official
documents. There is an undeniable confrontational intent, a “praxis of Third Cinema”, if you will, that becomes
The aesthetic of Third Cinema also moves between two poles; one, the demand that the works engage the actual
pressing social realities of the day, and the other that the film achieve its impression of reality, not by simply
the director asks his writer why he thinks the retraction issue is unimportant. The film gives an answer to the
contrary by way of strategic editing. It shows Rizal in c. 1890 Paris, writing a letter to his Austrian friend E.
Blumentritt. Heard as a voice-over, Rizal denounces the Spanish clerics for selling out their religious beliefs to
enrich themselves, attacking Filipino nationals, and seducing The Philippines (metaphorised as a young innocent
Why then should I not fight against religion with all my might when it is the primary cause of our sufferings and
grievances. (20)
Documentary footage featuring a wide-angle shot of a present-day “Black Nazarene” procession in Quiapo, Manila,
is immediately edited in. This is an annual pilgrimage where thousands of devotees parade a Spanish colonial
statue of a black Christ bearing his cross. The procession scene vis a vis the Rizal scene and voice-over are
incongruous; they are, at least, a century apart. The use of present-day documentary footage represents the
filmmaker-characters’ sphere of reality, not Rizal’s. Yet again, the filmmaker-characters’ own postcolonial
viewpoint finds representation in the blurring of temporal boundaries as the intercut scenes represent the
crossings between past and present. What is even more telling is the very image of a coloured Christ bearing a
heavy cross, which bespeaks of the infusion of a penitential culture perpetuated by colonial religion to sacralize
the passivity of the colonized, who were made to believe that suffering and self-mortification meant participation
in the passion of Christ. (21) The ongoing ramifications of colonial religion – a culture of passivity and inferiority –
in the filmmakers’ own sphere of reality is represented by the indexical symbol of the Black Nazarene, a relic of
How probable is it then that Rizal could have admitted that he was in error and retracted his denunciation of
colonial religion when its negative reverberations are still felt by today’s Filipino and his writings continue to hold
prophetic-liberating power, the director asks. In a heated debate, the writer plays devil’s advocate and argues
that Rizal was considered a convicted political criminal; the real issue is political, not religious. Thus, Rizal’s anti-
clerical sentiment must be treated as a separate issue. The director fires back:
DIRECTOR: Let’s not kid ourselves, you know that what you’ve just said is ludicrous … in Rizal’s time, the church
Just at the tail-end of the director’s argument, a flash cut of the earlier discussed crucifixion photograph re-
appears. This time, it is a tighter close-up of the Spanish fraile pointing an accusing finger at the crucified
Filipino; the expression of contempt is now more visibly etched on the cleric’s face. The camera pulls out to reveal
the other fraile, the Spanish sentries, and the Filipino intently listening to what appears to be the cleric’s
At this pivotal turn, the photograph clearly becomes a leitmotiv in the film and iconic of the suspected colonial
spatial and temporal boundaries and personally interviewing the key personages surrounding Rizal. His mother and
brother, despite their personal reservations, believe the retraction to be false and inconsistent with what Rizal
stood for, while his sisters give ambiguous, inconclusive testimonies. Rizal’s mistress, Josephine Bracken, insists
that Rizal married her in Catholic rites, thus, indirectly confirming the retraction. Finally, the director gets to
interview Padre Balaguer, the Jesuit priest who claims to have been the direct witness to the retraction.
I draw attention to the Padre Balaguer sequence as it is decisive for an understanding of 3rd World Hero’s
Figure 4
The Padre Balaguer sequence showcases de Leon’s mastery over the language of cinematic visuals, already letting
out the verdict of the investigation through the language of mise en scène, editing, lighting and music. We see the
director in Padre Balaguer’s cramped wood-panelled office. Balaguer is seated behind his desk, a crucifix hanging
on the wall behind him. As the point-of-view shifts, through editing, between Balaguer and the interviewing
director seated opposite him, two very odd things become apparent. First, Balaguer’s office is conspicuously
shaped like a coffin. Second, the office has no doors (Figure 4). The syntagmatic meaning evoked by the mise en
scène and editing is clear. Balaguer’s room configured as a coffin connotes that Rizal had already been sentenced
to death from the outset. The absence of doors indicates that his fate is sealed and there is no way out.
As the interview carries on, the visual foreboding is further supported when a scene is introduced showing Rizal
positioned between two frailes, here shown facing him. The shot is composed in such a way that the two clerics
are shot from behind the shoulder so that their habits provide internal framing for Rizal, who stands between them
in the background. Again, the leitmotiv of the crucifixion photograph finds expression, with Rizal playing the
Filipino walled in between two frailes. The message is consistent: Rizal is trapped, his death looms.
In the ensuing interview, 3rd World Hero presents a visual re-enactment of the priest’s testimony and we
appreciate how it unfolds like a comedy of errors. The historical testimony of Balaguer claims that Rizal
repentantly wept, confessed three times and received communion in a span of just a few hours prior to his
execution. While that in itself sounds suspicious, the visual rendering of a weeping Rizal going through three
consecutive confessions makes it look even more ludicrous. When Rizal is finally shown with the Jesuit priests,
kneeling before an image of the Immaculate Conception, a light shines through a window and bathes him in
divinised radiance. With an accompanying ethereal musical score, the scene plays out like a parodic appropriation
of classical hagiographical movies in the mould of Fratello Sole, Sorella Luna (Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Franco
Zeffirelli, 1973). As the Balaguer scene ends, we notice that the crucifix behind him had disappeared; in its place
At this point, 3rd World Hero’s ideologically-determined stylistic strategies all click firmly into place. The very
stylistic strategies conspire to set up a Damocles’ sword over Rizal and, as a result, de Leon is able to seamlessly
present the Balaguer’s testimony for what he suspects it is – a comical farce – albeit one that is protectively veiled
The tragic reality portrayed by the Third Cinema optic of 3rd World Hero is that Rizal had been crucified on the
cross of colonial clerical power. It would then be eerily comical to believe that the retraction document was
Towards the ending of Marilou Diaz-Abaya’s mainstream biopic Jose Rizal, the national hero makes a tearful
confession before Padre Balaguer, kisses a crucifix on his way to the firing squad and firmly clutches rosary beads
until he breathes his last. It is the hero of elementary schoolbooks which uncritically accept that Rizal had
3rd World Hero ends where it begins: with a reprise of the textbook pages of national symbols Filipino
schoolchildren learn by rote. The epilogue, however, can now be viewed after having gone through the critical
lens of Third Cinema. De Leon had maximized the grammar of film to stylistically present an alternative
historiography of the national hero that rises to challenge “official versions” of history Diaz-Abaya’s film had
memorialised.
In the clear-eyed view of 3rd World Hero, Rizal will always be framed by the context of his Third World culture
and that culture carries the sentence of history – a long drawn and particularly abusive Spanish colonial
occupation. This contextual framework is very relativising. 3rd World Herocritiques the way in which religion had
been used by the Spanish frailes for their own colonial profit and collective egoism; to think that the frailes
represented the interests of Rizal is the stuff of Chaplinesque comedy. In the process, 3rd World Hero insists that
Jose Rizal is not the Philippine national hero for nothing. His life work attests to his profound commitment to the
restoration of freedom and human dignity in his beloved motherland. And as far as many Filipinos are concerned,
this is the kind of Catholic religion Rizal lived and died for. (23)
That said, we no longer view the film’s epilogue through “reductive” eyes, but through “restorative” eyes – or to
borrow from the hermeneutical thought of philosopher Paul Ricouer, through a “second naïveté”. (24)
Notes
* Ika 30 ng Disyembre 1896, binaril siya ng firing squad ng sunadalong Pilipino ng 7:03 a.m.
--> handang-handa harapin ang kamatayan
--> isang bayaning bingyan ng libing ng mga Kristyano o isang bayaning inusig hanggang sa kabila ng buhay
Padre Balaguer
*Anong nagyari nung dumalaw ang kanyang nanay:
-nag-engkwentro sila
-hinawakan ang kamay ng Ina
-humingi ng tawad at umiyak-iyak
*Ipinakiusap niya sa nanay na hingiin ang bangkay ni Pepe matapos ang lahat dahil nais niyang malibing ng
marapat.
*Bago mamatay si Pepe. nandoon din ang ilan sa kanyang mga kamag-anak tulad nina:
-mga kapatid na babae
-Dona Lolay
-Josephine Bracken
-ilang pamangkin
Trining
-marunong mag-Ingles
-ibinulong sa kanya ni Pepe na "Inside that lamp, there's something inside of it"
*nangumpisal siya ng 3 beses at humingi ng misa kay Padre Balaguer upang mangomunyon.
*Pagkatapos, nakaluhod siya at hawak-hawak ang retractasion para marinig nilang lahat ang kanyang pagbabalik sa
Santa Iglesia
--> nilalaman ng kanyang binabasa:
"Ako'y isang Katoliko. At sa relihiyong ito, nais kong mabuhay at mamatay. Binabawi ko ng buong puso ang anuman
sa aking mga salita, mga ipinalimbag at binasa at di sang-ayon sa aking pagkatao bilang anak ng Iglesia.
Pinaniniwalaan ko at pinahahayag ang kanyang mga itinuturo. At sumusuko ako sa kanyang ipinag-uutos.
Kinasusuklaman ko ang mga masunoriheya bilang kaaway ng Iglesia."
*Pinamagatang Bayaning Third World dahil sa pagiging marupok o third class ng pagkabayani ni Rizal.
*Ipinakasal ni Padre Balaguer sina Bracken at Rizal, ngunit ayaw maniwala ng pamilya ni Rizal.
Confrontation
Adios, Patria adorado, region del sol queridas"
-->isang tula ni Pepe
--> habilin niya sa kanila, at sa lahat
*meron din daw na itinagong sulat sa sapatos ni Pepe--> "Hindi na mababawi ang na agnas na panahon"(nakalagay
sa sulat)
Kanya-kanyang Rizal
*kung hindi siya namatay, hindi siya sasapi kay Bonifacio
*sabi niya na hindi niya ginustong maging bayani.
* sabi rin niya na " Nabasa biyo na ang halos lahat sa aking mga sinulat, halos lahat ng isiulat, lahat sa akin. Ngunit
hindi niyo pa rin ako nakikilala. Sana sinunod niyo ang aking sinulat sa aking pamilya ... ilibing niyo ako sa lupa,
lagyan niyo ng bato at krus sa ibabaw. Ilagay niyo anga king pangalan, ang aking kapanganakan, ang aking
kamatayan. Wala nang iba, kahit na aking anibersaryo."
*habang may Pilipinas, mananatili si Rizal na National Hero at mananatiling isang monumento.
*habang may pera, mananatiling habang panahon g nasa piso
*hindi pampelikula ang buhay ni Rizal, hanggang libro lang siya.