ABORTION IS a crime in the eyes of the law and a mortal sin in the eyes of the Church. But for those who are lobbying for its legalization, the effort to restrict access to it is a control mechanism.
But for the protagonist of the film Sunshine, a 19-year-old gymnast who is not ready to have children, abortion is something that forced her to hide herself from the world as she grapples with guilt and shame in a culture that deems the unlawful act as a grave wrongdoing.
Sunshine, a film directed and written by Antoinette Jadaone, was first screened at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival and later won both the Narrative Feature Jury Award and the Narrative Feature Audience Award at the Austin Asian American Film Festival 2025.
The film follows 19-year-old gymnast Sunshine Francisco (Maris Racal) as she navigates her sudden pregnancy, two months away from her tryouts. Her coach (Meryll Soriano), unaware of the pregnancy, remarks that she has been working for the tryouts since she was 11 years old and getting into the team could dictate her future as an athlete. Her ex-boyfriend, Miggy (Elijah Canlas), wants nothing to do with her or her child.
During a trip through Quiapo, she encounters a nameless girl (Annika Co) who acts as both her inner voice and the echo of all the guilt and shame that have been taught to her for years. Over the course of the film, Sunshine finds herself increasingly isolated as her friend, Thea (Xyriel Manabat), is barred from interacting with her by her mother, who deems Sunshine a bad influence on her daughter.
Sunshine is followed by an intense feeling of shame throughout the film. After a failed abortion attempt, she is rushed to the hospital and her child survives the incident. As soon as she wakes up, her gynecologist asks that she beg forgiveness from God and thank Him that she and her baby survived.
When she questions what she should be thankful for, the doctor berates her and calls her “damaged goods.”
To the other women around her, Sunshine has lost her value as a woman. In the Philippines, many place a woman’s virginity on a pedestal and those who still have it are regarded as virtuous.
Sunshine’s arrival at the hospital for a failed pregnancy termination puts her under scathing remarks from a gynecologist. The film also emphasized the fact that Sunshine was not married yet, a detail that further lessened her value to the women around her. She was perceived as a “damaged good” because they thought no man would want her anymore.
The cinematography in the film shined in its portrayal of Sunshine’s growing feeling of entrapment. As she purchases a pregnancy test kit from the pharmacy, she faces judgment from the pharmacist who quips that “children these days do not know how to control themselves.” She stands behind the counter, the metal bars separating her from the pharmacists.
Her praying outside a church was cinematographer Pao Orendain’s way to physically show the distance between Sunshine and her faith. She is outside the worship place, though she continues to pray for forgiveness. While the narrative isolated Sunshine from her peers, the cinematography pulled her away from the faith she desperately clung to during that moment.
The church then becomes a transitional ground for her. The aisle is framed as a line that Sunshine crosses to get to the vendors who sell abortion medication, her act of going against social and religious norms out of desperation. A sense of shame follows Sunshine in the form of a poster that reads “Abortion is Murder” plastered behind her. It conveys the heavy feeling of shame on her shoulders.
Gymnastics seemingly took a backseat in the film’s third act. Sunshine meets 13-year-old Mary Grace (Rhed Bustamante) in Quiapo, who begs Sunshine to give her abortion medications as well, after having been impregnated by her rapist. During the climax of the film, Sunshine shifts her focus to Mary Grace’s survival after a failed abortion attempt.
As Sunshine faces her dilemmas and constraints, the film began to feel more like horror than a sports drama. Despite her begging, Mary Grace is denied services that she believes will save her life to protect the doctor’s license from being revoked.
The realization is harrowing for both Sunshine and the audience. This is where the film shined in its no-sugarcoating approach. The scene is raw and conveyed the helplessness of the characters perfectly.
However, the film left many things unanswered. The mysterious girl following Sunshine around was never explained. While there are heavy implications that the girl is simply a representation of her inner dilemma, she was also seen physically interacting with her and hiding from her onlookers.
Sunshine’s motivations as a gymnast felt out of place in the film. Her struggles mainly stemmed from the lack of support and hostility from people around her, not her gymnastics career. Unfortunately, the exploration of Sunshine’s ambition as an athlete and the struggles that came with it had to take a backseat for the heavier themes of the film.
Sunshine, with all its wins and losses, is a feminist film. Advocates of abortion regard it as an eye opener, but opponents of the procedure view it as a propaganda that justifies the murder of the unborn in the name of “choice.”
But one thing is for sure. Sunshine is not an easy watch. It does not sugarcoat with its language or its themes. Whether it will enlighten or disturb the viewer will depend on his or her perspective on abortion. Supporters and critics of the film will surely clash on its themes, but they will agree that Sunshine left a mark that triggered conversations and challenged assumptions. F
