Written by: Sami Salazar

 

When I turned ten, I only have one wish: to turn eleven. I remember my parents lying about my age just so I could sneak into an R-13 film at the mall. In high school, I envied classmates who were allowed to drink. At some point in our early years, we all wish for the clock to turn faster. That cycle never really stops for we crave freedom as kids, until the moment we begin to understand what aging truly means. And now, writing this at an age where I am old enough to be free to do whatever I want, I’ve realized that age was never the only thing keeping the youth from feeling free. The adults who shape the foundations of our lives hold an even greater responsibility: to ensure that the young, not only dream of freedom, but actually live it.

Being a filmmaker and as someone with a deep empathy for children, it only felt natural that I felt a need to see this year’s batch of young filmmakers who intend to shine light for the youth. This September 5-7, 2025, 10 youth-centered films were showcased for the 8th Edition of Sine Kabataan.

 

“Sa Tumoy sa Walay Kahumanan [After the (G)rain is Gone]” by Von Jorge Actub

The festival starts with the only Mindanaoan film in the festival. It follows Bitoy (James Sargueza), an 8-year-old son of a housewife and a bruised farmer living in a remote village. His belief that bigas heals all problems drives the story forward into an end that proves him wrong.

The film captures how wounds carried by one generation inevitably shape the next. It suggests that healing cannot come from quick remedies but from a slow and patient struggle against the roots of pain,in this case, the violent farmers overseer. The cinematography by Bagane Fiola drags us into the melancholic, poetic, and unhurried remote plains. It ends on a momentous image: Batoy and his parents staring at each other from meters away as they all freeze in the plains, each of them holding a different phase of the rice crop—from the mud, to what is served on the plate. And slowly, Bitoy mushes the rice in his hand as he grips onto it tightly. The shot becomes a quiet revelation of  experiences passed down from harvest, hardship, survival, until the child is the one who must finally eat what was sown before him. The film does not shy away from showing that sometimes, the “solutions” handed down are harsh, even barbaric, yet they still shape the ground the next generation must stand on.

 

“4 Better or 4 Worse” by Ronjay Mendiola

The film is a heartfelt portrayal of friendship, resilience, and the struggles faced by the LGBTQIA+ community in a society that often denies them proper healthcare and acceptance. The film follows four friends—Jen (Alon Sinag), Tintoy (Ronjae Realubin), Barbara (Pau Gutierrez), and Bianca (Gerson Raven), whose bond is tested by Jen’s health crisis and the weight of financial burdens. With Tintoy, Barbara and Bianca joining beauty pageants to raise money for Jen’s hospital bills, the narrative highlights not just their unwavering love and sacrifice but also the systemic neglect that forces marginalized communities to fight twice as hard for dignity and survival.

What makes the story impactful is how it interweaves personal battles with broader social issues. Tintoy’s powerful statement during the Q&A portion: that there is no safe way for people like them to transition, captures the urgency of inclusive healthcare reform. More than just a film about friendship and love, 4 Better or 4 Worse is a call to action: to respect, protect, and embrace diverse identities. As the film reminds us, “Progress is meaningless if compassion is left behind.”

 

“Due Date na ni Judith” by Kieth Earl Rebaño

Kieth Rebaño’s surrealist short is about Judith (Jorrybell Agoto), who is hastily getting closer to her due date in her pregnancy and in due bills. We follow Judith in a stylized world with a giant phallus, pregnant mosangs and basketball players.

This film is wide open to interpretation, owing to its nature as a surrealist absurd comedy. It made me contemplate if the meaning I drew was truly what was intended. Its surreal narrative and absurdist treatment of storytelling feel fitting, because reality itself can be just as absurd. Life grows inside young women, so do the expenses they are forced to carry. The clever play in the title, where “due date” refers not only to pregnancy but also to unpaid bills, is also one to be admired. Beneath the humor lies a lonely truth—the isolating weight of early pregnancy, where financial burdens which grow “exponentially” can take up more space in one’s mind than the people who actually matter. Ending on the strange but painful reality that growing up too fast means inheriting responsibilities that strip away the freedom youth should have had.

 

“Blooming!” by Ronnie Ramos

When Nena (Annika Co), a grade schooler, is asked to identify the different parts of a flower, the lesson takes an unexpected turn, questions shifting from petals and stems to the unfamiliar changes in her own body. A simple classroom task becomes a quiet confrontation with the overwhelming changes in growing up.

Though the transition to womanhood isn’t my own first-hand experience, the film is directed with such tenderness that it feels universal. It reminds us of the overwhelming changes we all endured in grade school. It captures the shift from carefree childhood into the daunting world of womanhood, using flowers as playful yet powerful symbols of growth. I laughed at the small, familiar moments of girlhood it portrayed, memories vivid as I grew up with two sisters. It gave us a gentle reminder that those who care for us most are often those who walk the same path beside us, becoming a vital pillar of support. The influence of Apichatpong can also unmistakenly be felt in its dream-like sequences, reflecting how body changes can feel surreal and disorienting for children, an effect further brought to life by Martika Escobar’s blooming cinematography.

 

“Sunog sa Sugbo” by Jon Owen Lepiten

Koy (Elj Seth Tababa), whose family is staying in the evacuation center due to a fire, is opened to start the same thing that victimized his family. “Sunog Sa Sugbo” is for me, the most provocative film in the lineup. The collaboration of Jon Lepiten and Kirk Nuñez resulted in a drowning image of a burning issue.

It tackled a dangerous yet relevant truth: how fire becomes an epitome of devastation for the poor, yet a tool of power for those who benefit from clearing communities out. Watching it reminded me of the repeated fires in Addition Hills, Mandaluyong. Allegedly intentional, these fires are displacing hundreds of families while authorities offered fewer and fewer answers. What makes this matter even more painful is how children are forced to grow up in an environment where home is never guaranteed and safety is conditional. Some even partake in these cycles just to keep themselves adequate. I loved how the film ended with the parallelism of water and fire, symbols of birth and death, freedom and destruction. But how can the youth ever feel free, when the very ground they stand on can be taken away in flames?

 

“City’s Laundry & Taxes” by Diana Galang

Also one of the provocative films in the lineup, takes us to a small town outside Manila in 2017, where the son of a laundromat owner, played by Louise Abuel, discovers his missing classmate’s ID tucked inside a policeman’s dirty uniform. We follow him as he contemplates on publicly publishing the dirty secret that one of their loyal customers keep.

The film echoes a grim reality: children as victims of extrajudicial killings, particularly during an infamous time when the government abused their authority. It shows how some policemen became numb to the very crimes they committed, their loss of conscience spilling into carelessness, turning justice against those it should protect. And yet, even in fear, children know what they see—and they remember. Rare moments of courage, like the one in this film, remind us that silence can be broken, even by the youngest voices. But if we won’t remember them, who will? As the film explicitly says, there are stains that couldn’t be erased, or rather, shouldn’t be.

 

“Signal Pending” by Lourchielle Hael

The only animation film in the lineup, shares a feelgood story of a desperate graduating med-student named Max the Bunny, searching for usable internet signal to pass their final thesis work. Going all in, no matter how far it brings them.

It was a simple yet relevant, light-hearted addition to the lineup. The film underscored how deeply our community values education, especially in the medical field, but also how access to opportunity remains unequal. Even in a time when Wi-Fi seems everywhere, it reminds us that it is still a privilege, often denied to the very students who need it most. This everyday struggle points to a larger truth that the drive of the youth will always matter, but without the resources to support their learning, that drive risks being left unrealized. Definitely, another creative pride of University of Makati in the field of student animated films.

 

“Elephant Paths”  by Joshua de Vera

In a fading town in Bulacan, four teenage misfits, Lance (Jansen Magpusao), Maya (Ysobel Refulgente), Alon (Air Salazar), and Kidlat (Bon Lentejas), find solace in each other’s company. Together, they carve out a hidden path, a sanctuary built from stolen scraps of belonging. Their quiet rebellion unfolds against the erasure of their hometown, where every step feels both fragile and defiant.

The term “elephant paths” may describe the wear and tear left by constant foot traffic, yet real elephants are said to be gentle with their steps. This paradox mirrors how relocation violently uproots both families and the land that once grew freely, just like the children who are displaced along with it. Stripped of spaces where they can simply exist, the youth are forced to improvise, carving out makeshift grounds where they can still be themselves and continue to dream. It is a quiet reminder that when the foundations of freedom are taken away, young people will find their own paths, even if they must tread them softly against the weight of the world.

 

“Coding si Papa” by Michael Angelo Pogoy

One of the most hard-hitting films for this year’s Sine Kabataan is a story of Gelo (Zed Martin), as he tries to collect money in hopes to afford a day off his father’s tricycle rounds.

Usually, when I want to write about the films I consume, I jot down notes as the film rolls in order to remember. This film left me without notes—not because it lacked substance, but because I couldn’t stop wiping my tears long enough to write them. On paper, it tells a simple story, yet the direction of the film pulled me fully into Gelo’s world, convincing me that I am Gelo. The film is light, hopeful in tone and filled with good intentions, but my sympathy was left entirely with Gelo. The sad truth is that not every child gets to be like him. Many Filipino breadwinners sacrifice time with their families just to stay afloat, and not all children are given the luxury of presence. It is heartbreaking that so many grow up with loneliness, forced into a call for action too soon, carrying a burden beyond their years. It broke me to think of literal children wishing they could pay their parents’ salary just to buy a day off, a single day of being truly seen. To wish that all children who dreamt to be a wish-granting fairy, become one someday.

 

“When it Rained Malunggay Leaves” by Cedrick James Valenzuela

A perfect closing film for the festival, the film shares a picture of Ariel (Gabby Padilla) who returns to her home province which houses her lone mother, Anita (Tanya Gomez), to spend All Saint’s Day together after a long separation. Exploring their wounds inside and out, it is almost as if they take turns in having the role of a ‘mother’.

Anita and Ariel are bound together by something as simple as malunggay leaves. Only Ariel can hand them to her mother, and in turn nourishes and heals her wound. The malunggay transforms into a symbol of a mutual attempt to heal, of how pain and care are passed across generations, and how sometimes the smallest gestures can carry the weight of forgiveness. I believe the director achieved his goal of creating a stylized film that could reach a wide array of audiences without losing its intimacy and sincerity. For me, these further amplify the film’s deserved success in being awarded Best Film and Best Screenplay for this year’s batch, affirming both its craft and the relatability it provides especially to the Filipino audience. It carried the essence of Sine Kabataan, offering us lenses not just to witness the exhausting agencies and scars of today’s youth, but to recognize the child within each of us beings who still aches, yearns, and oftentimes, still regrets.

 

The ten films of Sine Kabataan 2025 displayed this generation who ought to fight for the youth.  The generation that came before, in their love and in their failings, raised children who now carry both the weight of their scars and the strength to stand on their own. These stories reveal not only the struggles of the young but also the imprints left by parents, communities, and institutions which are sometimes tender, sometimes harsh. Sine Kabataan made us talk to our inner child, see our current selves, and persuade us to be one with the next generations of wishers.