Petersen Vargas draws us into a night of endless possibility in Some Nights I Feel Like Walking, a sensory experience set in the beating heart of Manila. Vibrant lights and a subtly hypnotic ambience immerse us into the thrilling hustle life of four boys, which is slowly unpeeled to its merciless core. We never see daylight in the film which makes you forget it exists.

We’re glued to Uno’s (Jomari Angeles) back in the opening sequence as we enter his world, and every moment from thereon feels like we’re living in it. All the bantering and cheesing at one another as the boys scour the night streets for gay clients cloaks the fact that they are far from happy in their situation: a fact that seeps through progressively. Against a painted wall of serene land, Uno contemplates: “This thing that we do, it brainwashes us into thinking we can’t own anything. Even our bodies.”

All five main actors deserve their flowers for this film. We feel the emotions with the boys as they mourn the lovable Miguelito (Gold Aceron) like he’s our best friend too: aided explicitly by the actors’ believability. Uno and Rush’s (Tommy Alejandrino) gut-punched tears are as real as anything; so are Bayani’s (Argel Saycon) when his tough-guy walls crumble and reality sets in. Zion (Miguel Odron) is the pitiful outsider of every situation, involved but not yet accepted, and his awkwardness is crafted perfectly. 

There are a handful of drawn-out, single-shot scenes that are impressive from both the filmmaking and acting side of things. With so much pleasing symmetry and ambient score, viewers are lulled into an almost sedative state, allowing the actors to swim in their emotions and fill out rooms to their brim. In one such moment, the film’s profoundness is laid bare by Uno’s words: “I told him, ‘I don’t want to die young, bro.’ But now, I’m more afraid of dying alone.” 

Also tied in elegantly with everything else going on is the obvious connection of our duo protagonists. We observe Uno and Zion, two lost boys from very different origins, bond over their shared trauma and delicate hearts. The yearnful-eyed, near-kiss scene as they are simultaneously pleasured by a third party sparks their journey together and is arguably more powerful than any of their other moments. 

Exposition doesn’t tell the story; meaning is unravelled as we figure out the characters in real time. Brotherhood, exploitation, and the meaning of home are intertwining themes surrounding four boys and the outcast trying to prove he belongs with them. We pick up another one of Uno’s wise epiphanies as he does: “It never occurred to me before that when you die, you need to find a final place.” The ceremonious outcome of Zion’s place in his hopeful found family is tied in brilliantly with the conclusion of Miguelito’s journey. As one boy finds his home, so does another, and the circle completes. 

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Written by Maddie Armstrong

The BFI Flare: London LGBTQIA+ Film Festival will take place at BFI Southbank from 19^th-30^th March. Tickets are on sale now via bfi.org.uk/flare.

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