Baby Ruth Villarama, director of the brilliant Sunday Beauty Queen (2016), returns with Food Delivery: Fresh from the West Philippine Sea. Initially slated for this year’s CinePanalo Film Festival, the documentary was pulled without explanation beyond vague “external forces.” Still, co-produced by the Chinese-Filipino-owned Puregold supermarket chain, the film persisted, was submitted to international festivals, and was finally shown in local cinemas.

Villarama’s film will no doubt excite Filipinos to watch it. Daily news of harassment against the Philippine Coast Guard (PCG) by the Chinese Coast Guard (CCG) in the West Philippine Sea (WPS), including a recent collision between two Chinese vessels during a high-speed chase of the Philippine vessel Suluan, keeps the issue painfully immediate.

The question, however, is not whether we own the WPS — but whether the film can provide fresh perspectives, emotional stakes and cinematic insight. Filipino audiences, myself included, even before heading to the cinema to watch this, were unwavering in our belief — grounded in legal and historical precedent — that the WPS, including Scarborough Shoal and the Spratly Islands, belongs to the Philippines.

Unfortunately, Villarama’s film falls short. Limited access and maritime security constraints are understandable, but they do not excuse a lack of focus or emotional engagement.

The documentary jumps from one idea to the next, from a fisherman’s prostate check-up to money-transfer dilemmas, to animated WPS maps, resupply missions to the BRP Sierra Madre, and four missing fishermen, creating a scattered feel. Conversations captured on camera are weak and offer little narrative cohesion. All this is laced with a heavy-handed musical score that often forces drama onto scenes.

Making a documentary about the WPS is ambitious, as it is a complex geopolitical issue that cannot be treated through a superficial context. We Filipinos already know the WPS is part of our exclusive economic zone, as affirmed by the 2016 Permanent Court of Arbitration ruling. A documentary’s job, therefore, is not to convince viewers of national sovereignty but to contextualize, explain, and humanize the stakes while delivering narrative and emotional resonance.

Food Delivery attempts to provide context on territorial and maritime rights through animated maps and news clippings, but most footage is stock or previously seen in media reports, such as water cannon confrontations and resupply obstructions.

The film also attempts to illustrate the challenges Filipino fishermen face, particularly real-life fishermen Arnel Satam and Ozman Pumicpic, in accessing high-value fishing areas within our EEZ, highlighting the gap between legal sovereignty and enforcement limitations. Arnel is a particularly charismatic fisherman who jokes on camera and openly declares he is unafraid of Chinese vessels.

Apart from our sacrificing PCG troops that protect the safety of our fishermen, Food Delivery fails to examine whether or not the Philippine government supports these communities, especially regarding old and damaged boats that make livelihoods impossible if not repaired, and repairs need money. Agencies like the Bureau of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources (BFAR) have mandates to assist, but the documentary barely addresses this.

It also neglects China’s perspective on WPS claims, which could have offered necessary journalistic balance, sparked debate, or at least given deeper understanding and historical context to the current tension.

Then comes the climax: a lengthy, purposeful, in-your-face shot of Puregold ecobags filled with groceries delivered to fishermen, accompanied by an overly dramatic score that soars to a crescendo, evocative of heroism. Because the storytelling leading to this act of gift-giving is ineffective, the moment ultimately reduces the film to a mere commercial for the beloved supermarket.

Another product placement — a coffee brand in the foreground — appears as well, which, in compliance with CinePanalo guidelines, could have been handled far more subtly.

For viewers familiar with WPS developments, the film offers little new information. The daily struggles of the fisherfolk, who are resilient and unafraid despite economic hardship, are portrayed superficially and lack the depth seen in other socially conscious local films like Tumandok (Cinemalaya 2024 Best Picture) and others that focus on severely marginalized sectors in the country, farmers for one. In Food Delivery, we see these WPS fishermen’s lives in passing, but not the profound impacts of geopolitical tensions.

We genuinely wish all the best for Manong Arnel and Ozman and salute the PCG’s efforts in protecting the safety of our fishermen, and we hope that the four missing fishermen are found. Also, Villarama deserves applause for attempting to tackle such an important topic. But it makes one ask: what is the docu’s purpose beyond asserting a fact already legally settled?

The dispute today is not about legal ownership, which was settled by the 2016 Permanent Court of Arbitration ruling, but about enforcement and China’s refusal to comply. This is already beyond our reach, and even Arnel knows it, as he jokes that only aswangs can shoo away the Chinese.

The only important aspect of this film is that it may benefit those who are still unaware of the ongoing territorial and maritime tensions. At the very least, it sparks awareness and may encourage viewers to research and follow ongoing developments. But in terms of execution, Food Delivery sinks in a directionless tide.

0.5 out of 5 stars

Now showing in select Philippine cinemas.