Sunshine

Sunshine is truly an eye-opener. It bravely tackles real issues that so many young adults-and even kids who are just stepping into their teenage years-are silently going through. The film dives deep into the realities of early pregnancy, abortion, and the emotional and social weight that comes with them.

What I really hope is that parents take the time to watch this film. Not just to be aware, but to feel that urgency-the need to guide and talk to their children about these sensitive but important topics. It's a conversation that can't be delayed anymore.

What stood out to me the most was how real and raw everything felt. I didn't leave the cinema feeling happy, but I did feel relieved. I felt the pain, the heartache, and the struggle that Sunshine went through-but I also saw the strength in her journey. The story is complete. It gives you everything from beginning to end, no shortcuts, no sugar-coating.

I loved the film. I honestly want to watch it again-not just for the story, but for the emotions it stirred up and the awareness it brings. This film matters.

This is the sunshine the country needs in today's climate.

It was Jadaone's courage that popped in my head when the title card flashed, a very Filipina name that connotes brightness and warmth - two things the film was not intended for, two things the titular character deprived of.

Sunshine is a story of every Sunshine, a Filipino woman vulnerable to systemic injustice and oppression; a story no one could have been told better than a Filipino woman herself - and a fearless and intelligent one at that. From reproductive health and general health care system to conservatism, Jadaone's care and spirit championed. Her personification of one's conscience was beautifully done. I sobbed through the last 15 minutes.

True-to-life darkness in the country executed from the literal streets to the contexts of quality of life through Orendain's realism. There's a harrowing frame in the movie that ticked all my boxes as a fan of dark cinematography. I bled in the dark with Sunshine right there.

This film boasts a talented bundle of actresses: Meryll Soriano, Annika Co, Xyriel Manabat, Jennica Garcia, with Maris Racal tying the ribbon, flexing her acting muscles across different tones and needs. Well-written and well-directed performances with standouts coming from Garcia, Co, and Racal. Ah, women.

Malalim. Matapang. Mahalaga. Hindi ako babae pero gets na gets kita, Sunshine.

It follows a young gymnast who discovers she is pregnant on the week of the national team tryouts. On her way to a seller of illegal abortion drugs, she meets a mysterious girl who eerily talks and thinks like her.

Dude the cinematography and camera angles in this trailer is what I have been wishing Philippine Cinema would have already been by now. Not the disappointing films they keep hyping and giving fake accolade.

Finally, a realistic story, not about kabit, poor/rich love story, badings. This is a realistic struggle of teen pregnancy in the Phil.

Sobrang deserve ni Maris makakuha ng maraming awards sa acting! Ang ganda! Ang galing!

The performances are outstanding, with the lead actress delivering a raw and emotional portrayal of Sunshine's struggles. The supporting cast adds depth to the story, particularly the little girl, who brings a sense of wonder and curiosity to the film.

One of the most striking aspects of "Sunshine" is its refusal to provide easy answers. The film presents a realistic portrayal of the complexities surrounding reproductive choices, leaving viewers to ponder the moral implications.

We watched Sunshine yesterday, July 24, during the block screening at SM Megamall. I had seen the trailer beforehand, so I knew we were in for something bold, something necessary. But I wasn't prepared for how deeply it would sit with me long after the credits rolled.

I didn't cry while watching the film, but once it ended, I found myself overwhelmed. The weight of Sunshine doesn't hit all at once - it lingers, it settles. And it stays.

At its core, Sunshine is the story of a woman taking control of her body in a society that keeps telling her she isn't allowed to. It's not simply about one choice, one moment, or one woman. It's about the collective experience of many Filipinas who navigate a system that consistently fails to hear them.

Antoinette Jadaone's direction doesn't shy away from discomfort. She faces it head-on, inviting the audience to confront the silences we've learned to live with - about abortion, reproductive rights, the stigma around sexuality, and the lack of access to informed sex education in the Philippines.

Sunshine is timely, urgent, and painfully real. It gives voice to the cry of our generation, echoing the need for progressive reforms that protect women and children. The film challenges its viewers not just to empathize, but to act.

As a viewer, I left the cinema not only moved, but also awakened. Sunshine isn't here to entertain. It's here to disturb, to provoke, and to push us into uncomfortable yet necessary conversations.

To my fellow Filipinos: let's not turn away. Let's create spaces where women can speak freely, where choices about their bodies are met with compassion, not judgment. Let's demand that our lawmakers stop treating reproductive health as taboo.

To filmmakers and storytellers: keep telling these stories. We need more films like Sunshine-bold, unapologetic, and grounded in truth. The personal is political, and cinema has the power to move both heart and policy.

Let Sunshine be a beginning. Let it be a spark. And let's keep the conversation going.