Made during a period of political turmoil in the Philippines, the messianic and didactic orientation of Sister Stella L. underscores the declaration that to love thy neighbor is radical and therefore liberating.
Directed by Mike de Leon, the 1984 film follows the transformation story of Stella Legazpi (Vilma Santos) who faces a dilemma confronting her traditional views on liturgy and liberation. Once exposed in the plight of the laborers of an oppressive oil company, the titular nun finds herself in a predicament whether to stay in the convent subservient to the conservative orders of the Catholic Church or to involve herself in the grassroots activism of the labor union.
The celebrated film synchronized with the people’s discontentment against the fascism of the Marcos regime. During this era of violence and fear, but especially of rage, political movements were frequent and ultimately climaxed by the assassination of Ninoy Aquino in 1983. Concerned artists during this period were among the most active and fearless critics of the incumbent dictator. In the film industry, New Cinema filmmakers made movies worthy of artistry and social themes. But what sets Sister Stella L. apart from its contemporary political films is the cinematic depiction of liberation theology—a religious movement that applies Gospel interpretation in aiding poverty and oppression.
The film’s dialectic ruminates how to reconcile dichotomized views in taking action toward social change: magdarasal o makikibaka, mananahimik o magwewelga, kumbento o lansangan? Each of these, if non-contiguously examined against their counter, is not inherently bad. For instance, it does not make Stella less of a nun if she chooses to stay in the convent because, after all, she has a duty to help Gigi (Laurice Guillen). In his book, How Good People Make Tough Choices, Rushworth Kidder wrote that real dilemmas are not a conundrum between good and evil because if they are, a morally good person should always choose the former. Stella’s dilemma is difficult because in deciding between two inherently right/good situations, she has to weigh them in relation to her faith and the plight of the masses. But Stella’s exposure to the movement of the union did not only help her choose but also reevaluate her own principles and orientation in helping other people.
Although the movie focused entirely on the status quo of the labor class, other details will indicate different social conditions during the martial law era. For one, the gatekeeping situation in Tribune where Nick (Jay Ilagan) works suggests the government’s censorship and control over the media. There’s also a subtle indication of the growing armed movement in Mindanao when Stella’s namesake went to Davao.
The accomplishments of the movie are first attributed to its didactic script delivered by an outstanding cast. The long takes along with the spatial movement of the camera were effective for scenes with expositions, while the subversion in breaking the 180-rule in some scenes are used to shift a perspective or establish character dominance. Lastly, the traditional and patriotic music heightens the battle cry of the grassroots movement. On top of these, the film brilliantly followed the transformation journey of Stella insomuch that it does not make it all about her. Her involvement might be small or even irrelevant considering that the labor strike started and will still continue with or without her, but her very conviction sends the message about the primacy of collective effort, that, as Ann Frances Sangil wrote, “grassroots activism is the key to empowerment”.
Stella poses the importance of agency and urgency at a time of social upheaval when she rhetorically asked, “Kung hindi tayo kikilos, sino ang kikilos? At kung hindi ngayon, kailan pa?”