Through the Lens of the HueMan Experience
Written by Rob Carlo Elle • Board by Miaka Byonne Cha | 28 June 25
The naked human eye can witness millions of colors —— like the shades that we may sometimes fail to name, or the tones that we cannot simply describe. But we know them; we feel them. Because color is not just a visual sensation, it’s also a memory trigger, a mood-setter, and a storyteller. In our everyday lives, colors define our emotions, and even dictate how we perceive the world around us. Colors are nowhere more evident to be gawked at than in the world of cinema…
In films, color is more than just an aesthetic choice. The grade of colors is the language of the film. It is a cue for what we should feel, a signal for what’s coming, and a reflection of a character’s internal world. Color grading may mold how a film looks, but its “hues” speak of something deeper: the human aspect of it —or—the “HueMan Experience.”
This year, SineHaribon bared the soul of every story — making each hue, deeply human.
The PLM Independent Film and Arts (PIFA) concocted its second SineHaribon Film Festival this year, held at SinePop Cubao, with its embraced theme: “Kapalaran: Buhay sa Guhit ng Hiwaga.” True to its name, it delivered stories not just written by fate but colored by festivity, creativity, and authenticity. Each of the short film entries painted a unique shade of humanity through a lens that is raw, real, and resonating.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
𝐑𝐞𝐝 – 𝐀𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲.
𝘈𝘮𝘰𝘳
A young lesbian girl wrestles with the unspoken thought; the quiet storm of coming out to her mother. But fate, as mysterious as it is poetic, lets her find a box—an old one tucked away, filled with letters and tapes dedicated to a woman named “Amor.” Engraved in that box, will let her decipher that love, both past and present, could be so cyclic, and generational. The film burns with a quiet kind of red that is vulnerable and hesitant, yet one that is also pulsing. “Hindi ko kayang numingning kung wala ka” a remarkable melody from Geiko’s Sol at Luna that sounded throughout the film which glazes so brightly to the audience, making this film the “Amor” of everyone’s heart earning its rightful place as the People’s Choice Awardee.
𝘒𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘈𝘸𝘪𝘵 𝘒𝘰’𝘺 𝘐𝘬𝘢𝘸
Unrequited love is a tale as old as time, often recycled in Filipino cinema, especially in coming-of-age narratives. Films like “I’m Drunk, I Love You” have etched this trope into the hearts of a generation. Yet, despite its familiarity, this film somehow breathes new life into those we’ve already seen —— it is strummed with longing and lyrical sadness. It’s the red of aching hearts and misunderstood verses. The film reminds us that while we often leave love to the hands of destiny by saying “bahala na ang tadhana”, fate isn’t always the one in control. Sometimes, the outcome is swayed by the words we never said, and the songs we never dared to sing aloud.
𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 – 𝐕𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭.
𝘏𝘰𝘺 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘩 𝘒𝘰 ’𝘠𝘢𝘯!
“Gandahan ang puhunan!” Drenched in vivid hues and stylized visuals, this film doesn’t just show off its aesthetic chops —— it cleverly critiques how appearance often becomes currency, especially in the pursuit of one's worth and ambitions.
What starts as a hilariously absurd story —- a stolen “self-made” designer shoe, then turns into an exploration of the unexpected twists that fate throws. In this film, shoes aren’t just shoes. They become symbols of a stepping ambition in a world that moves as wildly and chaotically as a rollercoaster. True enough, it was the “ganda-gandahan” that became this film’s strongest “puhunan,” snatching the awards of Best Film, Best Direction, and Best Screenplay. It’s no surprise that a single “Pradah” shoe kicked off a turmoil of events and carried the film all the way to the top.
𝘜𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢!
Each detail of this film has an inch of quick-witted Filipino comedic elements. This title alone slaps you with grit and sarcasm. Debbie, (derived from the word debt, which is “utang” in Tagalog), is a street-smart girl who takes the center stage of being a breadwinner, trying to keep her family afloat while her gambling mother sinks them deeper. What made this film such a standout was its relatable dialogue referenced from pop culture, trending Filipino memes, and classic Filipino films. Every scene minces the slams of survival, decisions that reek of desperation, but underneath it all is that unmistakable yellow of grit - a sunshine through smog, and humor in hopelessness.
The stars have already kneeled as this film rose to win the 2nd Best Film and the Best Actress award given to Janeiya Andrei Daza, who starred as Debbie, making this film have a lasting payoff. Even as those final credits rolled, one thing was certain: “Nandito na si Debbie”—and she’s here to stay.
𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 – 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬.
…𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨
Ironically, the title of this film is “Bulong,” yet what it says will scream in your head long after the credits fade. Set within dim hallways and strained conversations, the film traces the quiet yet disturbing setting of a boy caught between fear and inheritance. Every shudder of light and every hush in the dark feels loaded — like something is watching, waiting, or worse... whispering.
Most horror films we’ve seen paint their terror in blood, but in this film, it is painted in breath—foggy, fragile, and close enough to touch. Fittingly, it was awarded Best Sound Design, proving that in a film where whispers hold the highest amplitude of sound, “...Bulong” was not just heard but was also felt.
𝘎𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘵
This film is a slow-burning psychological thriller that quietly carves its way into your mind. Set in an aging barbershop, it follows a barber whose mundane routine unweaves as a mysterious customer twitches a haunting past. With every snip and shave comes every memory bleeding through- until reality itself becomes blurred. Bathed in a chilling hue of blue, Gupit masterfully evokes the cuts and slits of a haunting descent. Blue, in this film, is the color of its heartbeat. What seems to be just a barbershop was coated in melancholy, that mirrors the confusion of everyone’s mind, and foreshadows the inevitable twist, wherein, sometimes, the monsters we fear merely reflect what we’ve tried to forget.
𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 – 𝐀 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡, 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬.
𝘉𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘩𝘢
Some films don’t need dialogue to speak to you. Baliha is one of them. In a quiet walk across bridges, churches, and crowded streets, we follow a man carrying a weight we’ve all known too well — baggages. But what makes this short film linger is not just where he goes, but who he encounters. With its symbolic stillness and quiet strength, Baliha carried everyone’s attention in a journey that earned it with every silent frame. There is something freeing in the essence of this film, just like the hues of orange: warm, youthful, and quietly aching. It captures the beauty of movement, and the soft unspoken triumphs found in simply choosing to continue — despite the mounts of baggage being carried.
𝘐𝘴𝘥𝘢, 𝘋𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘢, 𝘛𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘰
Rooted in its title’s simplicity, “Isda, Dalawa, Tatlo,” this film portrays a countdown to a young child entering the uncharted waters of adolescence. Innocence swims through this film like its character’s best friend—Junior, a literal fish whom the boy consults about everything, including his circumcision. The boy’s fear of circumcision might seem laughable at first, but it reveals layers of cultural expectations tied to masculinity in the Filipino context.
In the Philippines, films made for younger audiences often come with an automatic trigger: censorship. Conversations around the body, especially a child’s — are usually softened, skipped, or silenced entirely. But what sets this film apart from those we grew up watching; is its refusal to tiptoe around the topic of a child’s genitalia.In doing so, it reminds us of a long-overdue truth that children don’t need censorship — they need language, understanding, and the right to name their own bodies.
Junior the fish may shimmer on screen, but he’s not the only gold this film holds. Isda, Dalawa, Tatlo’s golden child star, Lucas Martin, who portrayed Sonny, swam straight to victory with his Best Actor award, while Amber Santaolaya, playing his best friend March, earned Best Supporting Actress. The film didn’t stop there — it also made waves by taking home the Haribon Special Award and Best Poster Award. Its title may only count to three, but its impact transcends any number. In this film, the hues of orange delivered a message so heartfelt and universal, it resonated far beyond age, leaving a mark that doesn’t fade.
𝐕𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 – 𝐋𝐨𝐮𝐝, 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫.
𝘛𝘰𝘵𝘪 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘺 (𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭, 𝘔𝘦𝘥𝘺𝘰)
When we all thought that Virgin Mary is the only one who can bear a child through a miracle—— we may be wrong—— there exists Toti Mary. Toti Mary, the “tomboy-next-door” from West Calaguiman, finds herself in the middle of a divine (or not-so-divine) intervention. Toti Mary (Parang Musical, Medyo Hindi) is a phantasmagoria of a film that blends comedy, musicals, queer awakening, and small-town chismis into one unconventional storyline. What starts out as a hilarious and irreverent story slowly strips down layers of truth all told through a representation of a character who just wants to love, live freely, and maybe the avoidance of being the “chosen one.”
Toti Mary is a literal intervention to signify how we often mythologize women and their experiences just to cover a deteriorating narrative. This isn’t just a satirical turn on religion; it’s a reflection of how we rewrite women’s stories to make them more palatable, less threatening, more sacred, even when the truth may be far from holy.
“Bukod kang pinagpala sa tomboy na lahat,” — that’s what Toti Mary instantly became, not just in the film, but in the real-life lens of SineHaribon, where it swept a holy praise of brilliance. With a crown of awards in tow: 3rd Best Film, Best Cinematography, Best Ensemble, Best Editing, Best Production Design, and Best Musical Score along with Aristedes Lamorena Jr., who played as Jose, also walked away anointed as Best Supporting Actor. The actual divine in this film is not even a holy entity but the whole production itself.
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞.
Apart from being a festival of films, SineHaribon is a canvas— one where student filmmakers defied to dip their brushes into hues of reality. Under the theme “Kapalaran: Buhay sa Guhit ng Hiwaga,” these films asked us to look beyond the surface of what was drawn. Every artistry exhibits us to see not just what was shot, but also what was felt, what was feared, and what was fought for.
Each film took a different stroke in the masterpiece of the “HueMan Experience.” SineHaribon makes us realize that the fate we have seen whether on screen or in life is less about the stars it aligns, but more about the hues it defines. Hues that are bold, bruised, and bristling with meaning.
𝘚𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘨𝘶𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘢 𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘨𝘢 𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘺.