Why All the Girls and Gays Are Flocking to See ‘Open Endings’ at Cinemalaya

@womansbathtube on X said: “Masc shortage isn’t real. Just go to Cinemalaya screenings for Open Endings and you’ll see,” which pretty much sums up the vibe this film brings to the function. 

And no, I don’t just mean spotting the second coming of a The Sunny Club event by a Shangri-La Malls lobby. I mean, the way the film itself feels like an actual proper sapphic film where queer women finally feel represented enough to flock to cinemas and their story is nuanced from being tender, funny, and a little messy without being reduced to some spectacle.

Open Endings tells a story about four queer women in their 30s whose shared pasts as exes, first loves, and first heartbreaks have somehow led them back to each other as friends. More than all the tangled romances, it’s a story of friendship—the kind that survives everything: the break-ups, the awkward brunches, the years in between.

If you’re coming into this expecting a tragic queer drama or a flashy coming-out story, you’re in the wrong cinema. Open Endings is about how love lingers after the labels change and how friendship can be just as intimate as romance, sometimes even more so. 

A Barkada We’ve All Met Before

In this barkada we have Hannah, Charlie, Kit, and Mihan.

Hannah, played by Jasmine Curtis-Smith, is the reliable mom friend who keeps everyone together. Charlie, played by Janella Salvador, is chaos wrapped in a cute tote. As Janella puts it, “Well, you know the joke about U-Haul lesbians?” Kit, played by Klea Pineda, is the joker of the group but also everyone’s ride-or-die. And Mihan, played by Leanne Mamonong, is the quiet observer with too much on her mind and a whole lot of commitment issues—so basically a textbook Virgo.

For Jasmine, this marks a return to sapphic storytelling as her first queer film since the cult-favorite Baka Bukas in 2016, another rare contemporary look at queer women’s lives. Janella, meanwhile, has become something of a staunch ally in recent years from playing Valentina in Darna to publicly rooting for more GL pairings onscreen. Leanne steps into her first full-length acting role after years of being known primarily as a singer, while Klea brings her own perspective as one of the few openly queer actresses in mainstream local showbiz.

While it’s tempting to get caught up in the ships, the friend-group dynamic is the heart of the film—a quiet testament to the beauty of female friendships. It’s a realistic look at how women love and show up for each other, even when the lines between friend, confidante, and something more start to blur.

Leanne says that’s part of what makes the project meaningful for her debut. “Sobrang onti pa lang ng sapphic films in the Philippines. So, when it comes to realistic portrayals, I’m proud na nagawa namin siya in this film. Mas realistic, mas l unique to the actual queer experience.”

The comfort on-screen came from how quickly the four actresses bonded off-screen. “I remember the last day, nung nagpa-pack up na kami, walang gustong matulog,” Janella recalls. “Me, Jas, Leanne, and Klea were just sitting by the villas. Ayaw namin matulog kasi ayaw namin mag-end. Ganon kami ka-clingy sa isa’t isa.”

And that’s what makes Open Endings feel refreshing. It doesn’t feel forced or trying to wring out a specific emotional reaction. It’s a story that allows queer women to just be… queer women. It lets them be funny, flawed, tender, sometimes a little messy—exactly who they are in day-to-day life, and the connections they form within their own community. And, surprisingly, that’s still something we rarely see in Philippine cinema.

A Queer Story by Queer Women

Part of what makes Open Endings feel so personal is the team behind it: all the department heads—from directing to writing to cinematography—are women. 

Director Nigel Santos says that dynamic changed everything on set. “It was female-led. It was so collaborative. For the first time, welcome lahat ng opinions because you’re not tiptoeing around anyone’s ego. I’ve been in the industry for more than a decade, and it’s the first time I’ve experienced a set that was this fun.”

That kind of environment shaped a cast and crew who weren’t just making a movie, they were advocating for it. It created a space where everyone felt invested in making sure the film resonated honestly.

For Jasmine, that spotlight still feels overdue. “People will be like, ‘Oh, it’s a token film,’ as one of the queer films in the festival. And, that’s great. That’s fantastic [that it’s part of the festival]. But, it shouldn’t feel like nakalusot lang [ang queer films.] It shouldn’t feel like you got lucky. There should be space for that.”

And if there’s one thing Klea hopes the film leaves with its audience, it’s understanding. “Gusto ko mas maintindihan ng mga tao kung ano ba talaga ’yung dynamics ng queer women sa mundong ito. Kung paano sila gumalaw, kung paano sila mag-isip, kung paano sila mag-express ng love sa isa’t isa.”

In a landscape that’s had an explosion of BLs the past years but still so few WLW stories, Open Endings offers something different. It’s not just representation, but the rare chance to see queer women’s stories told with honesty and care—by people who know what that care looks like.