It still feels surreal to have my own column here on Simpol.ph. When I look back at where I was this time last year, there’s a lingering sense of disbelief that I am now doing things I once only dreamed of.
I’m Hanz, and I’ve been a producer for Simpol and Chef Tatung for almost a year now. In just a few months, my passion for creative ventures has never felt more fulfilled like quenching a thirst I always knew I had but never quite had the words to describe.
But while producing content has given me a strong sense of purpose, at the end of the day, I always return to my first love: film. It’s the warm embrace that makes me feel like the king of the world, the wise wizard that sets me off on a journey to find the one ring. If my first film will be my love letter to the art form, this column, The Human Script, is my declaration of courtship.
One of the first films I ever watched was a bootleg copy of Free Willy (1993). A determined orphan sets the story in motion as he fights to free a captive whale. To my father, who simply wanted to enjoy a movie night with his son, it was just another family flick. But to me, it was an awakening, an introduction to a world of storytelling that I couldn’t yet comprehend. I still don’t fully understand why this film moved me the way it did, but I remember it vividly, as if it were the best movie I had ever seen. If my relationship with cinema had a meet-cute, Free Willy would be it.
The three faces of storytelling
I like to think that storytelling in film and television falls into three broad categories: grandiose, mundane, and mirror.
Grandiose
Grandiose stories follow heroes on epic journeys whether they are fighting great evils, defying the odds, or escaping fate itself. We watch them struggle, fall, and rise again, all in spectacular fashion. These stories give us hope, reminding us that life’s greatest challenges are merely hurdles to overcome. They tap into universal emotions and mold shared experiences into tales of triumph and resilience. In them, we see reflections of ourselves not as passive viewers, but as protagonists in our own unfolding stories.
Mundane
Then there are storytellers who find beauty in the ordinary. The Japanese call it kishōtenketsu, a four-act structure that focuses less on the hero’s external journey and more on their internal growth. These stories don’t seek to dazzle with spectacle; instead, they invite us into the quiet, unassuming rhythms of everyday life. They hold up a mirror and urgie us to examine ourselves — the good, the bad, and everything in between. They ask: Who have we become because of our experiences?
Mirror
And then, there are films that strip away illusion, laying life bare before the audience. Documentaries offer a window into real people and their unfiltered stories. They venture into the unknown, peeling back layers, revealing hidden truths. Some are profound and deeply moving, like Overseas (2019), which follows a group of Filipino domestic workers preparing for employment abroad. Others are unexpected and unconventional, like My Octopus Teacher (2020), a story of a filmmaker forming a bond with a literal octopus. Then there are those that confront us with the stark realities of our environment, reminiscent of the powerful narratives told by National Geographic and the Discovery Channel. These films don’t just tell stories as they bear witness to life as it unfolds, inviting us to do the same.
The movies, films, and television shows we love fall into these three categories — grandiose, mundane, or reflective. Deep down, though, they all serve the same purpose, and that is to remind us that we are agents of The Human Script.
We don’t just consume stories as we create them. We shape our destinies, moved by the narratives that have been in motion for billions of years.
Perhaps this is why storytelling, in all its forms, remains one of the most powerful forces in human history. Shakespeare said it best in As You Like It: “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
And so, the story continues.
