A fly is a significant character in Agapito, Arvin Belarmino and Kyla Romero’s 14-minute short. The cold open shows this fly, an instant villain, bugging a camera-blurred man (the late Joel Garcia) in the foreground.
The vexing sound of the fly gives the audience split focus — the emotional irritation of a buzzing pest determined to eat the man’s face, and the camera’s selective and sharp focus on a ponytailed girl, Mira (Nour Hooshmand), the protagonist.
Later in the film, that same fly returns with a vengeance, in a hilariously absurd way that had me laughing out loud and triggering my own hacking cough from a lingering virus.
Agapito, which competed at Cannes this year (a huge accomplishment, considering only 11 were selected from over 4,000 submissions), was screened at the recently concluded QCinema Film Festival. The title refers to the film’s setting: a vintage duckpin bowling alley where all pin and ball handling is done manually by workers. Mira is the manager, and the fly-attacked Adeng is a rookie pinboy.
Washed in a desaturated color palette of teal and cream, the bowling center feels dreary — almost institutional, like a public hospital. Mira’s salmon top, however, brings warmth and affection to the otherwise cold space.
After all, Agapito’s biggest theme is love. And love, according to the Bible, is patient and kind. It protects and perseveres. It is not self-seeking and keeps no record of wrongs. In fact, there’s a kind of religious, spiritual tone to the whole short. The use of the church gospel song “Humayo Ka” by John Angelo Diamos permeates the film and gave me LSS until the following day.
The other bowling employees, led by Mira (Anton Nolasco, Jeremy Mayores, Veronika Reyes and Bullet Dumas), are astonishingly talented. With their harmonized chorale singing and competent interpretive dance, they could easily pass for a musical theater troupe rather than pinsetters.
At the center of this slice-of-life workplace story, with a touch of the found-family trope, is Mira’s relationship with her differently abled older brother, Junior (Andre Miguel). We see Junior — Belarmino’s inspiration for his own brother with special needs, also named Agapito — arrive at the alley on the 30th day of the month, and we come to realize that this is a tradition for the siblings.
With mostly static compositions, occasional tracking shots, wide framings, and full song-and-dance sequences, Agapito’s restrained approach and muted palette speak volumes about unconditional love. It shows a rare kind of familial love — one that endures despite the working-class grind. Family comes first; customer needs come second. Genuine love, the film reminds us, is found in consistency, attention, and the simple act of setting aside sacred time for someone you truly care about. Small gestures matter. Kindness is free.
Engaging, with commendable performances from Miguel and Hooshmand, Agapito may be middling arthouse fare. But it’s the film’s humanity that stands out, making you question if you’ve ever truly loved — in the biblical sense.
3 out of 5 stars