How a Fake Stairwell Became a Real Wake-Up Call

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By Francis Allan L. Angelo

At first glance, A Brief History of the Escherian Stairwell appears to be a documentary about a quirky architectural illusion. But for filmmaker Michael Lacanilao, it’s a sobering mirror held up to a society increasingly unable to distinguish truth from deception.

On May 2 and 3, 2025, at the UP Cinematheque in UP Visayas, Iloilo City Campus, Lacanilao returned to the scene of the viral crime—the internet—by hosting screenings and a forum in celebration of World Press Freedom Day.

The event was organized by the Iloilo Media-Citizen Council as part of its programs for International Press Freedom Day and was held in partnership with the UP Visayas Office for Initiatives in Culture and the Arts, Division of Humanities (College of Arts and Sciences), UPV iWrite, and the UPV Information and Publication Office.

What began as a master’s thesis proposal in October 2012 at the Rochester Institute of Technology has, over a decade later, transformed into a cultural case study on belief, media, and disinformation.

“The idea for the Escherian Stairwell began with a deep anxiety about how to discern truth from falsity,” Lacanilao explained to a rapt audience.

That anxiety proved well-founded. The original short film—just six minutes long—used slick editing, scripted performances, and faux-academic commentary to depict a stairwell that appeared to loop back on itself, a physical impossibility reminiscent of an M.C. Escher drawing brought to life.

The clip showed participants ascending and descending only to end up where they started, prompting many viewers to wonder: could such a place really exist?

It couldn’t. That was the point.

But after its YouTube release in April 2013, the illusion took on a life of its own. Comment sections brimmed with debate. Curious visitors arrived at the RIT campus searching for the nonexistent stairwell.

Social media amplified the myth, identifying it as the brainchild of a fictional Filipino architect named Rafael Nelson Aboganda.

“The idea was to flood the web with fake websites, fake articles, and armies of ‘Stairwell Believers’ in forums and comment sections that would testify to the structure’s veracity. We even made a 1997 documentary with real academics explaining how the stairwell exists,” Lacanilao said.

Though it predated terms like “fake news” and “deepfake,” the project foreshadowed the digital deluge of the 2016 U.S. elections, the rise of troll farms, and the weaponization of disinformation in the Philippines..

Lacanilao’s retrospective film, A Brief History of the Escherian Stairwell, reveals the inner workings of the hoax: behind-the-scenes footage, rehearsals, intentional technical flaws, and carefully crafted amateur visuals designed to feel “real enough.”

More than an exposé, the 31-minute documentary is an invitation to confront the vulnerability of belief in the digital age.

“The whole project is centered around the notion that there exists this real-life, physical manifestation of a logical contradiction — like a five-sided square or a married bachelor. Something you can disprove just by thinking about it,” Lacanilao said.

“Its non-existence is meant to be plainly obvious.”

Still, many doubled down. In one ironic turn, during the 2022 Philippine elections, operatives recirculated the video to stir nationalist sentiment, portraying the stairwell as a genuine feat of Filipino engineering.

Lacanilao remains cautious about drawing overt political parallels, but he acknowledged the power of storytelling—even when false.

“This was a student project. We had no connections, no funds, no platforms of influence. So think about what’s possible if you’ve got real funding. If you’re backed by corporations, by longstanding institutions, by governments.”

The screenings at UP Visayas sparked renewed discussions about media literacy, truth construction, and the power of narrative in an era of algorithm-driven information.

Lacanilao challenged audiences to recognize that truth discernment is less about possessing facts and more about cultivating a habit of inquiry.

“If all our lives we’re told what to believe and what to think, then that muscle in our brain that’s meant to think critically, to grapple with what to believe, and to struggle with untangling what’s true from what’s false begins to atrophy,” he said.

He argued that while AI-generated media has prompted fear about misinformation, it also presents an opportunity for necessary societal growth.

“At this point, I’m less concerned that individuals believe what is true and more concerned that individuals embrace the hard work of determining what to believe as a personal responsibility and an inherent part of being human,” Lacanilao said.

“It’s not something we should be shying away from.”

Rather than expressing apprehension about artificial intelligence, Lacanilao welcomes it as a catalyst for change.

“I’m tremendously excited about the technological advances in that area,” he said. “After all, there needs to be a paradigmatic shift in our society’s relationship with information and with imagery, and in the ways we construct our belief systems. It’s apparent to me that the technological advancements in generative AI and their widespread accessibility and ease of use will accelerate this paradigmatic shift. People will be forced to think hard about their relationship with information, with images, and with their most deeply held beliefs. And I cannot wait for our society to make that shift already.”

Panel discussions tackled questions such as: What happens when people stop questioning the credibility of sources? How can media consumers be empowered to become media critics? And how do you maintain the integrity of journalism in an age when illusions can be made indistinguishable from reality?

Lacanilao did not pretend to have all the answers.

“This project isn’t about solving the problem. It’s about seeing the problem,” he said. “If you’re feeling the same kind of existential panic I felt, that’s a good thing. That’s where we start.”

Ultimately, A Brief History of the Escherian Stairwell asks us to think not just about how illusions work, but why we fall for them—and what that says about our current moment in history.

Because in a world where a staircase can lead nowhere but still convince millions it’s going somewhere, maybe it’s time we checked our footing. (Photos courtesy of Charley Sta. Maria, Sam Tayopon of iWrite, and the author)