Time and again I have exposed myself to be a connoisseur of nostalgia, a peddler of mix-tape romance, and a champion of the proverbial crash and burn. If this film were a fanzine then it would most definitely want to be Chickfactor. But the obvious rough edges and hepatitis colour grading proves that it is not the case. Some say that it can be The Scenester, but then again this film wields its influences and acidity like a battle-axe rather than like a samurai. At best, this is Nine … that old beloved rag that everybody had forgotten before it even begun. Time-travel … yeah, that’s how the Nine people used to roll. It’s comforting to know that there are still people who make things because they just want to watch the world, or in this case their hearts, burn.

This was the second affair with Philippine indie cinema. My “Nagasaki” if you will. Running and gunning with a solid group all throughout Manila’s Chinatown in furious reds and greens and slow-mo scenes. Yes, I know it rhymes but I really don’t care. This was one really memorable experience. Sorta like that moment when I almost wept after tasting my first Xiao Long Bao. Nice one yeah.

This was the “Hiroshima” of my dalliance with Philippine cinema. Before Slow Fade, I was just an obsessive spectator along the sidelines. This film was where I got my first taste of proper filmmaking. I am very proud to have ran alongside such a splendid group … people who heartily gave a chance for Marco, captain of fools, to show his quality. Much respect and gratitude.