Why do the rich and powerful collect lions, tigers, or cobras as pets?
Perhaps because violence is so foreign to their insulated lives that it becomes a novelty—an exotic possession to be admired, controlled, and discarded once inconvenient. Lino Brocka’s ‘Jaguar’ channels this very idea with unflinching precision.

Here, the “jaguar” is no beast of the wild, but a man: Poldo Miranda (Philip Salvador), a security guard whose very nickname is a witty reversal of the Spanish word guardia. Poldo is not framed as a human being with agency, dreams, and dignity; he is a tamed threat, useful only insofar as his employer Sonny Gaston (Menggie Cobarrubias) can exploit him.
Based on Nick Joaquin’s reportage ‘The Boy Who Wanted to Be Society,’ which chronicled the 1960 Brown Derby shooting, the film reimagines 1970s Manila as a crucible of class disparity, where servitude masquerades as inclusion.
Brocka mines the details of everyday exchanges to expose the inequalities embedded in Philippine society. A simple unworn shirt, forgotten instantly by Sonny but treasured by Poldo, encapsulates the cruelty of casual privilege. No matter how many times Poldo risks his life for his employer—breaking up jealous rages, serving as a chauffeur, or guarding his dalliances—his loyalty is ultimately met with indifference.

The narrative turns on Sonny’s pursuit of Cristy Montes (Amy Austria), a nightclub dancer he plucks from obscurity with the promise of glamour and material comfort. Poldo, too, succumbs to Cristy’s allure, but unlike Sonny, he cannot buy her attention—only borrow it. As violence escalates, Poldo finds himself cornered, armed, and out of his depth, a man mistaken for predator when he is in truth prey.
For viewers of Bong Joon-ho’s ‘Parasite’—a film whose director openly cited Brocka as an influence—’Jaguar’ will feel strikingly familiar. The same sharp delineations between servant and master, the same simmering resentments dressed in civility, and the same cathartic eruption of violence when containment fails all pulse through Brocka’s film.
But ‘Jaguar’ offers no clean satisfaction. Even as Poldo enacts his rebellion, Brocka denies him triumph. Instead, he leaves us with the bitter taste of systemic rot—an observation that the poor can neither buy their way into the ruling class nor truly escape the structures that bind them.

Written by Jose F. Lacaba and Ricardo Lee, Jaguar carries Brocka’s signature neorealist eye. The camera moves from cramped Tondo shanties to glossy nightclubs and the surreal landscapes of Smokey Mountain, embedding viewers within Manila’s physical and moral geography. Salvador, in his breakout role, shifts with ease from swaggering machismo at home to submissive obedience at work, embodying the contradictions of a man trapped in two irreconcilable worlds.
The supporting cast adds texture: Cobarrubias as the spoiled Sonny, Austria radiating both sensuality and vulnerability, Johnny Delgado as the combustible “Direk.” Conrad Baltazar’s cinematography captures both the grit of the slums and the sheen of the elite’s playgrounds, while Rene Tala’s editing balances melodrama, violence, and exploitation with Brocka’s biting social commentary.
Premiering at the 1980 Cannes Film Festival—where it became the first Filipino film nominated for the Palme d’Or—’Jaguar’ stands as one of Brocka’s great international breakthroughs. Its 4K restoration, completed in 2023, premiered at the 16th Lumière Festival in Lyon and now opens the 7th Sinag Maynila Independent Film Festival (Sept. 24–30, 2025).
The genius of ‘Jaguar’ lies in how it reframes aspiration itself as a trap. Poldo’s tragedy is not only that he was born poor, but that he was made to believe loyalty and service could buy him entry into a world that was never his.

For anyone who has ever sold their labor, their dignity, or their silence to the powerful with the faint hope of being “included,” ‘Jaguar’ strikes like a dagger. It is cathartic, infuriating, and still frighteningly relevant—because the danger we think is domesticated, like Poldo himself, always has a way of breaking free.
Rating: ★★★★★

