SINEGANG.ph’s Best Filipino Films of 2025
SINEGANG.ph’s Best Filipino Films of 2025
Feature art by Abigail Manaluz
What a year for the Philippines. From high-profile political scandals to some of the worst disasters the country has ever seen, one can’t help but think if there is an end to all of this madness. Even the movies of the past year seem to be in dialogue with the political unrest happening around us or from within.
Philippine cinema in 2025 grappled with the past and the present, and wondered if there is any hope for a better, more just future. The answer can be as clear as an acquittal from an unjust detention. But it can also be aimless just like walking the empty streets at night.
In any case, we are still privileged to have had a fruitful year of local cinema. These are not just mere forms of entertainment; they are records and reflections and resistances.
Here are the best Filipino films of 2025. Listed alphabetically.
Still from Bloom Where You Are Planted
Bloom Where You Are Planted
Dir. Noni Abao
Noni Abao’s Bloom Where You Are Planted embraces ideas of home by its chosen subjects, who happened to be land rights activists facing state terror and threats for protecting also the homes of marginalized sectors of Cagayan Valley. It questions and grapples with how home for them feels either safe or even terrifying, but still a place worth fighting for. Intersecting with ideas of activism shows how the land and the community they defended immerse them in who they are now and their identity. It’s a compassionate tribute to activism and their chosen homes that they continue defending. —Christ Dustly Go Tan
Read our full review: ‘Bloom Where You Are Planted’ REVIEW: Portrait of a Nation on Fire
Still from Cinemartyrs
Cinemartyrs
Dir. Sari Dalena
What Sari Dalena achieves in Cinemartyrs goes beyond the boundaries of mere fiction and documentary. More than a film, it is an act of communion between the living and the dead, between those who remember and those long silenced by the Philippine-American War. In doing so, it subverts the Catholic-centric notion of possession that dominates much of horror cinema. What is often depicted as desecration or demonic becomes, in Dalena’s hands, an act of grace, a surrender to the past that allows the forgotten to move through us. The film does not merely revisit the past, but lets it breathe again, to tremble and to speak, through image and sound. To experience it is to preserve memory; it is participation, it is resurrection. In a time when the past is continually sanitized and shaped by imperial narratives, Cinemartyrs asserts that the act of remembering is also an act of resistance. —Joe Balinbin
Read our full review: ‘Cinemartyrs’ REVIEW: Experiencing memories of a forgotten war
Still from Dreamboi
Dreamboi
Dir. Rodina Singh
To be trans is to be scrutinized at every level, whether it’s Diwa’s identity, presence, and body parts being interrogated at work, or even filmmaker Rodina Singh finding her vision run through two release-banning X ratings before its approved R-18 rating gets stamped by the MTRCB for a film festival already curated for R-18 films. The joy and pleasures of Dreamboi lie in the joy and strength that Diwa is able to locate, in her trans sisters, in her burgeoning office romance, and in her secret listening sessions fantasizing over Dreamboi privately. It’s when her reality crashes into her fantasy in her office’s basement bathroom—the gender-neutral space she’s shunted to - that her world gets truly rocked. Tony Labrusca embodies the Dreamboi fantasy so well, but EJ Jallorina invites a tantalizing fantasy into reality—that trans women have been worthy and are ready as ever to lead the movies. —Philéo Victor Ko
Read our bite-sized review: ‘CineSilip 2025’ BITE-SIZED REVIEWS: Big Screen, Bold Desires
Still from Food Delivery: Fresh from the West Philippine Sea
Food Delivery: Fresh from the West Philippine Sea
Dir. Baby Ruth Villarama
Baby Ruth Villarama’s Food Delivery humanizes the often less-witnessed stories of battles at sea brought by the Imperial Powers of China. Providing an intersectional overview of the current situation from the marine soldiers’ isolations and safeguarding to the fishermen’s harassments and depleting fishing yields, and even mentions of imported products prioritization, the documentary presents these stories of struggle in delivering food to the people’s table and how life was held at such a high cost for such actions in protecting the country’s seas. It delivers an urgent call to action to immediately address these problems and presents the consequences to the country’s sovereignty if unattended. —CDGT
Still from Habang Nilalamon ng Hydra ang Kasaysayan
Habang Nilalamon ng Hydra ang Kasaysayan
Dir. Dustin Celestino
Rolling one’s eyes is an understandable reaction to Dustin Celestino’s Habang Nilalamon ng Hydra ang Kasaysayan (As the Hydra Devours History). Whether from reading its ostentatious title to watching Kakampink-coded, middle-class academics and nepo babies with blood-soaked family histories—who are somehow deeply versed in Greek mythology—grapple with the aftermath of the 2022 Philippine presidential elections, which saw the son of an ousted, brutal dictator and the daughter of a violent, misogynist autocrat claim the two highest positions of power in the country under the guise of unity. It’s annoyingly insular and the urge to yell “Move on, it’s 2025 already!” is strong, but the film makes a firm case for using its premise as a fertile ground for drama and introspection. Its limited scope is used to push itself further within its characters, acting in ways that are messy and human as they go through the five stages of grief caused by the overwhelming powerlessness to stop our nation from going through an endless series of tragedies and injustices; a sad tale worthy of being a future classic.
Celestino remains unmatched when it comes to crafting engaging conversations, and harnessing the talents of our country’s top performers to great effect—the fact that the film won nearly all of the acting awards at Cinemalaya 2025 is no coincidence—but what stood out the most is the levity. The fury and angst that motivates his films is punctuated with humorous asides, and the use of Greek mythology to reflect on the somber state of the nation becomes instructive, as it points to an optimism that is burdensome yet essential to move forward. The light shines brightest in the dark and Celestino has finally found it, shining a path disillusioned Kakampinks ought to follow. —Kieff Iporac
Read our full review: ‘Habang Nilalamon ng Hydra ang Kasaysayan’ REVIEW: A new renaissance of Dustin Celestino films
Still from Lakambini: Gregoria de Jesus
Lakambini: Gregoria de Jesus
Dir. Jeffrey Jeturian, Arjanmar Rebeta
A years-long production of juggling different directors, cast and crew, and varying visions, Lakambini, Gregoria de Jesus has taken its shape as a pseudo documentary about its production, historical anecdotes, and the sequences already shot from the film’s earlier versions. The result? Lakambini is an insightful piece foretelling the historical figure that intersects with interviews and notable sequences. The film is an essential piece that can be shown in classes in schools, without it being too formulaic and boring. — Ralph Regis
Still from Magellan
Magellan
Dir. Lav Diaz
An anti-epic and anti-biopic in the truest sense, Lav Diaz’s Magellan rejects spectacle and heroism, presenting its titular figure as wounded, ordinary, and stripped of myth. Diaz’s patient, unadorned approach allows time and landscape to bear witness to the quiet brutality of conquest, confronting imperial history through restraint. — JB
Read our full review: ‘Magellan’ REVIEW: A Lav Diaz anti-epic, anti-biopic
Still from Only We Know
Only We Know
Dir. Irene Villamor
If there is a Filipino romantic drama that exceeds preconceived notions and expectations, it would be Only We Know, starring Charo Santos and Dingdong Dantes. With its brilliant screenplay and chemistry of the two leads, the film capitalizes on the genre but takes a quick turn for a bit of a misdirection. Beyond the romance, it actually focuses on dealing with grief and companionship between adults. The film excels when it leans on what it means to be human and the longing for intimacy and friendship is a common craving for all of us. — RR
Still from Open Endings
Open Endings
Dir. Nigel Santos
Nigel Santos’ Open Endings unravels queer women's relationships that are often less seen in mainstream media, the honest and even the messy and complicated ones that still feel human and close at home. It challenges romantic conventions and diversifies female queer relationships, offering safe spaces between exes and partners and friends. The act of holding on with the people you love, beyond the labels or even beyond friendships, is still a quiet resistance to what love looks like in their terms. Santos shows that there are still many kinds of love a queer woman can give. —CDGT
Read our full review: ‘Open Endings’ REVIEW: Loving by Choice and by Chance
Still from Pinikas
Pinikas
Dir. Cris Fuego
Cris Fuego’s Pinikas may have flown under everyone’s radar (it was only screened at a few regional film festivals in the Visayas and Mindanao last year) but it stands as one of the greatest examples of independent, grassroots filmmaking in recent years. Shot in 2019 in Pintuyan, Southern Leyte with a dedicated VisMin crew and without financial involvement from any local major film studios, this Bisaya feature was stuck in post-production purgatory for five years before finally reaching audiences in 2025. What emerged is a beautiful provincial melodrama about love, family, and personal choices. The film embraces its familiar melodramatic tropes while subtly subverting them to create an empathetically layered story of a woman’s strength and agency in a men’s world, anchored by a revelatory performance from Angela Villarin. Here’s hoping that this film gets more local screenings that it so richly deserves! Oh, and did I mention that this is a Bisaya feature film?! —Linus Masandag
Read our full review: ‘Pinikas’ REVIEW: Usa ka Salidang Binisaya nga Puno og Kasing-Kasing
Still from Quezon
Quezon
Dir. Jerrold Tarog
Jerrold Tarog’s Quezon feels like a perfectly timed release where the country’s political climate is now just a circus of performances from succeeding political dynasties or from rich businessmen who are still greedy for power. Manuel L. Quezon, portrayed by Jericho Rosales, as a politician and as a myth, questions patronage and the authenticity of politics that continuously evolve and corrupt the thinking of the masses into believing that they could save their struggles, but still fall prey to the game of politics. The film remains relevant as a reflection of the summed-up political violence the country continuously faces now by tracing one of the origin stories of its cultural machineries, and why it even worked in the first place. —CDGT
Still from Raging
Raging
Dir. Ryan Machado
Ryan Machado’s Raging mostly whispers—until it ends with a faint shout. This slow-burn provincial tale reveals a larger story beneath its mystery: a plane crash cuts through the forest, witnessed only by Eli (Elijah Canlas), who then goes to search for it and to prove that it happened. His loneliness and suppressed emotions, shaped by the abuses and shunning he endures from his community, seep into you too, stirring a similar quiet rage at a system that continues to fail him. All of this takes place in a rural province in Romblon, where the land itself bears the same abuse and injustice as Eli's. Each lingering frame—often still, sometimes drifting—felt like whispers wanting to be heard, the story restrained yet intense, its handling of sensitive subject matter unsettling yet never exploitative, and its use of silence make us feel the unsaid, the unseen, and the unbearable burden carried by its abused protagonist. —LM
Still from Republika ng Pipolipinas
Republika ng Pipolipinas
Dir. Renei Dimla
What stays with me the most about Renei Dimla’s Republika ng Pipolipinas is Cora Vitug, played tremendously with dorkish sincerity by Geraldine Villamil. It may seem easy to mock her for building her micronation as an effort to stand against the local government who attempts to seize her land, and I do think people like Cora shouldn’t be the butt of a joke in a satirical mockumentary like this. Thankfully, the film moves past that and sees Cora as not just earnest in her plight but also a really down-to-earth person. And believe me when I say that in today’s world, where all hope for a future seems squandered, we need more people like Cora (real or fictional) whose embers light up the dimmest of corners. —Justin Caunan
Read our full review: ‘Republika ng Pipolipinas’ REVIEW: Too Real To Be Funny (But Still Is)
Still from Some Nights I Feel Like Walking
Some Nights I Feel Like Walking
Dir. Petersen Vargas
What makes Petersen Vargas’s Some Nights I Feel Like Walking stand out as one of the strongest films of 2025 is how it shows how queer bodies are rarely treated as their own. The film depicts how queer lives are shaped by systems that constantly decide for them. Some Nights presents the body as something negotiated for survival, where choice and dignity is often stripped away, even in death. For me, what makes this film powerful is how it gives weight to lives society has already written off and lets their inner lives take up space. The film also understands how wanting love, safety, or control can push people into dangerous spaces. Some Nights leaves you with the truth that for many queer lives, survival itself is already a form of resistance. —Jessica Maureen Gaurano
Read our full review: ‘Some Nights I Feel Like Walking’ REVIEW: A much-awaited homecoming
Still from Sunshine
Sunshine
Dir. Antoinette Jadaone
There is not much left to say about Sunshine that hasn’t already been said, praised about, or yelled from the rooftops; it is indeed brilliant, harrowing, and moving, encompassing any and all emotions that should overtake any young woman who must face the advent of teenage pregnancy in the Philippines, a country where abortion remains illegal. In the case of this film, it is the titular gymnast who finds out about the baby in her belly right before national tryouts. Reminiscent of how Manila in the Claws of Light and Manila By Night depicts their eponymous conceits, Quiapo is almost its own character here—a gritty, unyielding creature Sunshine struggles to find hope in, traversing shady corners to find abortifacients that will do the trick. Through the turns Sunshine’s journey takes, it is an unparalleled Maris Racal who anchors the film in its various ambitions; her technical brilliance, with Antoinette Jadaone’s assured directorial hand, makes for a winning film that emerges as one of last year’s absolute best. — Thandie Aliño
Read our full review: ‘Sunshine’ REVIEW: A flicker of hope in the city of broken dreams
