Don’t you always feel like those food concessionaires are selling you overpriced food?
One way to save money if you don’t cook is buying a small can of tuna which costs about twenty pesos and it would be even healthier.
I remember a colleague asking me one time: “nagtitipid ka ba”? * believe me, it sounds more hurtful in Filipino) when I brought my baon (packed lunch) to work.
In Land Without Bread (1933), Luis Buñuel parodied the white guilt of popular travelogue docs of the time, pointing out that sadness and economical devastation existed in Spain itself—no need to travel to some faraway land.
In Nanook of the North (1922), the life of an Inuit clan was notoriously messed with.
And yet, from direct cinema to Dogme 95, truth has always been an idealistic goal for many filmmakers, and not necessarily the purity of it, but the translation of its most deeply held essentials.
Arguably, documentary filmmaking has always been at the forefront of that aim, though during much of its primordial beginnings—especially throughout the 1920s, ’30s, and ’40s—documentary filmmakers trolled truth as if it was yet another stuffy branch of bourgeois power.
While you’re at it, why don’t you stop buying overpriced snacks from the vendo and convenience store?