“We need more stories like this to be told.”

The Philippines is on an Olympic high, particularly after gymnast Carlos Yulo became the country’s first multi-gold medalist, winning two titles in Paris back in August. For a country with just one gold win under its belt, Yulo’s wins have been nothing short of historic and inspiring. As such, buzz about the sport is at an all-time high, with parents training their kids to be gymnasts in the hopes of them becoming the next Olympians, and possibly podium finishers.

Enter Sunshine, a young female gymnast who has been training all her life to qualify, though her coach reminds her that this is her final shot at making it to the biggest sporting event in the world. Sunshine has been completely relentless and focused on her route to the tryouts to make it to the national team. That is, until she discovers that she is pregnant.

Ever since she started making feature-length films, director Antoinette Jadaone has been one of the biggest champions of telling women’s stories. Her first one, Six Degrees of Separation from Lilia Cuntapay, is a ‘mockumentary’ about the most prominent female bit player in Philippine movie history. In The Achy Breaky Hearts a single woman in her 30s feels the pressure of being questioned on why she hasn’t found her prince charming. And in 2020’s Fan Girl she follows a young woman’s journey into discovering the real identity of her actor idol. It should come as no surprise then that she is bringing the story of Sunshine to the screen, doing double duty as the film’s writer and director.

And it is to the film’s benefit that Sunshine is viewed through a woman’s lens. It is important that we witness female stories on screen being brought to life by women themselves. Make no mistake, Sunshine handles a ton of topics given its relatively short screentime – unwanted teen pregnancy and how it is frowned upon in a conservative country, or abortion seen as a ‘solution’ even through illegal means (the Philippines is one of the few remaining countries where abortion is not permitted under any circumstances). Some of the film’s scenes are set at Quiapo Church, probably one of the most notable religious sites in a predominantly Catholic country. Jadaone tackles these topics with equal care and grit, making sure Sunshine is never being judged for all of her decisions.

Despite the seriousness of its topics, Sunshine never loses its sense of humor though. Inspired by Taika Waititi’s Jojo Rabbit (as Jadaone has admitted), Sunshine has an imaginary friend who feeds the chaos of her overwhelming thoughts. In one scene she is being questioned by her ‘conscience’ about buying drugs that facilitate an abortion; in the next, the same ‘friend’ pushes her to slam the dashboard of her ex-boyfriend’s car. Scenes like these can be seen as a representation of Sunshine’s state as she undergoes this unprecedented moment in her life. She also gets strong support from her elder sister, a single mother herself who got pregnant at an early age.

Adding to the film’s strength is leading lady Maris Racal in the titular role. In what should be her breakout moment, by delivering a poignant performance Racal achieves her finest turn to date. The physicality that she brings to the part is already impressive in its own right and makes her believable as an aspiring gymnast, but what is more notable is the way she captures the roller coaster of Sunshine’s emotions and how she injects pathos into the role. Annika Co (playing Sunshine’s imaginary friend), Jennica Garcia (as the elder sister), and Rhed Bustamante (another pregnant teenager) all deliver solid, albeit short, turns. At its heart Sunshine is a statement film, tackling topics that might be perceived as taboo in Philippine culture, but that is precisely why we need more stories like this to be told.