‘First Light’ review: A nun wrestles with her faith in assured, precisely crafted Philippines-set debut

Dir/scr: James J. Robinson. Philippines/Australia. 2024. 118mins

James J. Robinson’s quietly assured debut feature First Light follows a nun facing multiple challenges to her longhand beliefs. The natural beauty of Luzon in the Philippines provides a striking backdrop to a precisely crafted, meditative exploration of ethics, morals and blind faith. Robinson’s confident handling of style and substance mark him out as a filmmaker of promise, and should ensure further festival exposure for the film following screenings at Melbourne and Marrakech.

Robinson’s confident handling of style and substance mark him out as a filmmaker of promise

Sister Yolanda (Ruby Ruiz) lives with a community of nuns in a 400-year-old convent that was one of the first built by Spanish missionaries. There are echoes of Powell and Pressburger’s Black Narcissus (1947) in the close ties between the sisters, but the mood is of quiet devotion rather than hysterical repression. Yolanda’s gentle smile and unassuming presence reflect a life of selfless commitment to others. She visits the sick, tends to the dying and provides spiritual guidance to young novice Sister Arlene (Kare Adea).

Robinson underlines the tranquil, unvarying life of the convent through his measured pacing and eye for the countryside that surrounds it. His career as a photographer (for the likes of Vogue and GQ) is felt throughout the film in the precision of his framing and use of colour. In one scene, the sky blue of Yolanda’s habit is farmed against the sickly green of an emergency room and the blood red smears on a patient. Cinematographer Amy Dellar captures a range of azure skies, the quiet flow of the nearby river, the sun emerging through clouds drifting over the local mountains and the glow of dozens of candles lighting the way to worship.

Robinson also provides a subtle sense of some kind of trouble brewing in paradise. The convent is subject to power cuts, buckets catch dripping rainwater from the ceiling, bats have made a home in the tower and there is a smell of rot from the local forest. Fear of the future provokes memories of the past. The stifling humidity and sense of slow-decay suggest the world of Lucrecia Martel.

Yolanda is visiting a hospital when she is approached to comfort a dying man in his final moments. Construction worker Angelo (B. J. Forez) has suffered an accident and the doctors have abandoned any hope of saving him. Angelo’s fear of death is unsettling to Yolanda. Subsequent events teach her a stark lesson in the inequalities and injustice of the society around her. Even Father Claridad (Soliman Cruz) and the local church are complicit in sustaining a world that favours the haves over the have-nots. The splendour and size of the church are a stark contrast to the conditions in which the nuns live.

Yolanda’s instinctive desire is always to help others. She would never draw attention to her own cares, but we gradually become aware of the burdens that she carries and the situations she feels powerless to influence. Sometimes faith may not be enough and First Light also becomes a coming of age story in which Yolanda is exposed to the messy realities of the wider world and how she has been sheltered by her naivety. What is required for people to be good becomes a preoccupation.

Robinson grounds the film’s engagement with morality and mortality in the landscapes, skies and life of the Philippines’ largest island. He gives space to consider the film’s central issues, but that philosophical heft is matched by the gentle, understated humanity of Ruby Ruiz as a woman led from faith to doubt and action. Ana Roxanne Recto’s delicate score using guitar, cello clarinet and harp enhances the film’s contemplative nature.