Our festival is in mourning. For the past months, operations at Bakunawa Fest came to a complete standstill - a necessary pause driven by our collective, constant care and devotion as our dearest Sir Tito navigated health challenges. We could not move forward while our guiding light was fighting his own battle.
 

While our hearts remain heavy and we grieve deeply, we also know we cannot mourn forever. Sir Tito wouldn't want that to happen. He is, after all, a quiet soul who has a very happy and generous heart. He would tell us sounding like it's in jest but he's serious, "Ano ba kayo, wag na 'yang mga ganyan!" (No need to do that!). Sir Tito would be the last who would want special treatment even if, for us, he is beyond special. And now, he is gone. The magical fairies and the Onglo - from his celebrated book "Tales from Ticao" framed through his signature lens of public anthropology and memory as an integral thread in Ticao Island's cultural imagination and lore - surely are in a state of melancholy much like us humans.

To honor him truly is to continue the work he loved and believed in so fiercely. Tito Genova Valiente was a giant in cinema and cultural criticism. Yet, despite his immense stature across both national and regional landscapes, he remained a profoundly private person. His brilliance lay not in seeking the spotlight, but in illuminating the work of others. Many artists and filmmakers would seek for his review like it is a blessing of sorts all because when he writes about you and your work, he has seen it in full and his praise (or criticism) truly genuine.  

As a distinguished member of the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino, an esteemed anthropologist, film educator, and recipient of the Gawad Alagad ni Balagtas for lifetime achievement in the English essay, his contributions transformed how we read, watch, and understand storytelling. He was a pious columnist whose columns and essays we read every other day - whether in the national daily, The Business Mirror ('Reeling' and 'Annotations'), or in the regional paper 'Bicol Mail' - because every piece is an inspiration that let us pause and ponder. His interest in exploring and understanding the human condition with profound empathy, treating every essay as a living testament to human dignity and shared experience, is what makes Sir Tito a very unique voice in writing and criticism.

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We always see how he would bridge the space between elite scholarship and raw, grassroots filmmaking. He championed regional voices when few others listened, insisting that our local narratives, myths, and lived experiences were equal to any grand cinematic canon. Every one of us in Bakunawa Fest knows this by heart. As our juror, mentor, and festival adviser, he approached film with rigorous honesty and unmatched empathy. He did not merely critique; he nurtured. He taught us how to see deeper, feel more boldly, and respect the craft with every frame. 

Writing this is very painful and, in the past weeks, we've almost ran out of tears. But he would again nudge us and would just gently say, "Noy!" (a term of endearment in Bicol), to ease our pain and push us to move forward and celebrate his life than his absence. 

 

Though he has departed from our physical realm, Tito Genova Valiente has not truly left us. He now belongs to the immortals of our fantastic world - an eternal guardian watching over our stories, our artists, and the shadows and light of our screens. And then we would imagine that, day after day from hereon, we would all sit quietly beside him looking at the beautiful skies while playing 'I'll Be Seeing You' by Billie Holiday. He has not left us, after all. 

With deep reverence, love, and boundless gratitude, we dedicate this year’s edition of Bakunawa Fest to Tito Genova Valiente and his enduring legacy. His loving spirit will continue to guide us as we step out of the silence and carry his light forward. 

Dios mabalos, padaba kong Kuya! Inoomaw mi Ika.

[ Elvert Bañares, writing on behalf of the Bakunawa Fest family. ]