Liza Soberano goes to Hollywood—and so do every Filipino's hopes and dreams

Liza Soberano turning heads in Liza Frankenstein, her Hollywood debut, shows how Filipinos crave for affirmation on the international stage, and how we burden our own to represent all of us.

I’ll be honest: I haven’t watched Jo Koy’s opening monologue at this year’s Golden Globe Awards. But then again, I didn’t really have to.

There was much coverage in Philippine media about how Jo is the first Filipino-American to take such a high-profile gig, about how he was enlisted for the role with only ten days to spare—I mean, we all know the Hollywood Foreign Press Association has their own troubles—and about how this would be such a great moment for all Filipinos.

But then he didn’t do as well as we wanted, and he just as instantly became the subject of our scorn. How dare he blame the writers for his failures. How dare he make a gag that Taylor Swift, our infallible queen, did not like. (I’m sure a lot of the criticism was because of Taylor.) How dare he—and this is something I actually saw someone post on Twitter—how dare he undo every single good thing that Dolly de Leon, who had received acclaim for her role in the Palme d’Or-winning Triangle of Sadness, has done for the Philippines on the global stage.

Sure, some people eventually had his back—an awards show is still a tough gig; just ask David Letterman—but, well, Jo Koy was a one-track comedian anyway, they say. He only talks about being Filipino but has no other material beyond that, they say. He can’t even speak Filipino that well, so why is he representing us, they say. And so on.

I thought it was an interesting look at how we Filipinos think. Much has been said about our unsavory “crab mentality”—what some of you might call “tall poppy syndrome”. But I also think the Jo Koy saga is indicative of how we Filipinos project our aspirations, hopes and dreams on “our kind” who achieves success outside the borders of the Philippines. In some cases the attitude is justified: take Lea Salonga, the first Asian to actress to win a Tony, and her success on Broadway and the West End, or take Manny Pacquiao and his jaw-dropping achievements in the boxing ring.

But then you have Filipinos—and particularly Filipino media—going through lengths to feature celebrities with the vaguest heritage. I remember how our evening newscasts were all over Canadian teen Maria Aragon covering Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way”, which caught the singer’s attention and went viral. Once her lineage surfaced—her parents immigrated to Canada from the Philippines—the pursuit of her saying she is proud to be Filipino was underway. Well, they got it.

I was quite annoyed at the coverage, because, really, her luck aside, it’s not so much an achievement of an entire country as it is an achieve of one person. But it hasn’t really stopped us from attempting to claim some credit for the success of actress Hailee Steinfeld and, more recently, Olivia Rodrigo. (Side note: Guts was robbed of a Grammy.) Take also how the press was all over how a Filipina, Sophia Laforteza, made the cut in the upcoming Hybe/Geffen “international girl group” Katseye, or how two Filipinas (and one Korean-Filipina) made the final group of the K-pop survival series Universe Ticket.

I suppose we really are that desperate for wider recognition. I’m not sure why exactly. It’s not really an inflated sense of worth; considering how messy our politics are and how backwards we seem compared to our neighboring countries, arguably we look lowly of ourselves and just want something, anything, to make us collectively feel good.

But we are not an untalented people. Recent years have seen Filipino musicians, actors and television shows gain recognition in our neighboring countries, for example. But our Holy Grail is still out of reach: recognition in the United States, a country that colonized us for under half a century. These guys arguably shaped our values more than the Spanish, who colonized us for over three centuries. Consider why I choose to write in English, and can easily do so. Consider why a lot of customer service jobs went here. Consider why so many Koreans fly to the Philippines to learn English. It’s that colonial heritage.

Anyway, successes like, say, Christian Bautista carving out a fandom in Indonesia, or the steady drip of Filipino bands performing in the region’s music festivals, don’t get as much attention because, you know, it’s not the United States. (I know, SB19 had a successful American tour. Imagine how much press that got.) Some variant on the “youngest sibling syndrome”, perhaps? “Did you see what I can do, kuya?”

One consequence is the weight of responsibility we as a nation pass on to Filipinos who make it big on the global (ie American) stage. But is it really up to them to tell our story? Not everyone is an alp.de.ap, who willingly mines his heritage and childhood for his music, both solo and with the Black Eyed Peas. But I suppose, for as long as you don’t do anything terrible, whatever that means, you’re fine. Bruno Mars’ music is not rooted in Filipino styles at all, but we love him anyway. Jo Koy—maybe what happened at the Globes will tide over (or is already tiding over) and we’ll love him again. Manny Pacquiao—well, just see what Dave Batista, who is half-Filipino, had to (not) say about him.

And that brings us to Liza Soberano.

Known for her striking looks—which lends well to the country’s thing for elegant beauty on screen—and her sensitive acting, Liza is one of the biggest names in Philippine showbiz, a constant presence not just on screen but in billboards as a sought-after endorser. Most of her career was your usual paired-in-a-love-team, rom-com-regular trajectory, but after backing out of a new film adaptation of Darna—it would later be retooled as a television series with Jane de Leon—she became more public about her dissatisfaction with the way her career is going, and its toll on her mental health. Her Hollywood debut, Lisa Frankenstein, is her first project as a part of Careless Music, the agency founded by James Reid.

Elsewhere the project would be a big deal because of the behind-the-scenes talent—the directorial debut of Zelda Williams, written by Diablo Cody—but here, of course, it is all about Liza. Understandably. It’s kind of like how we have become proud of Sandara Park’s success as a K-pop icon: we saw both their careers start here in the Philippines. A lot is riding on it, particularly our self-identity, our self-worth.

Most of the reviews were all praise for Liza, and—yes, I watched the film, and yes, I can see why. Sure, the movie struggled with establishing its tone at the beginning, and I feel some plot points may have been rushed in an attempt to both pay homage to its inspirations without looking like a hodge-podge. But once you get used to the idea that it’s a fun, almost hyper-stylized romp with mostly one-dimensional characters, you realize how Liza doesn’t just shine because her part is substantial, but because of the humanity and empathy she brings to Taffy, perky stepsister to fish-out-of-water Lisa (played by Kathryn Newton). That said, it can jar, especially in one key scene that I’m sure is designed to shock and elicit laughter—but that isn’t her fault.

I don’t think our newscasts have made reports compiling all those glowing reviews, at least as I write this—the closest we have is her co-stars talking about how perfect she was for the role, an angle I have seen our media explore over and over—but in any case, it’s an interesting phenomenon. Filipinos don’t get that many opportunities to be known for acting. From memory, we have Lea Salonga, and the other Filipinos cast in the early runs of Miss Saigon; we have Dolly de Leon; we have Jaclyn Jose, who surprised observers by winning Best Actress at Cannes in 2016 for Ma’ Rosa. It also helps that Liza is a young actress with a younger fan base. That’s bound to capture the imagination.

Of course, Liza’s role could have been done by anyone—her heritage is not a factor (although it surely made her being the daughter of Carla Gugino’s character easier to sell). Still, I imagine we’ll end up putting a lot of expectations on her as she pursues Hollywood further. It’s really her success and not of the country’s, but whatever, right? Maybe if she stumbles a bit we’ll turn out backs on her because how dare she let us down, right?

Funny, because she did talk about those expectations a bit in Rachel Bilson’s Broad Ideas, the podcast by Rachel Bilson and Olivia Allen. Liza was, as you’d expect, pretty frank here about how Filipinos are—specifically our attitude towards mental health—and how it contributed to her feeling of dissatisfaction and her recent career moves. (I’m sharing video of the whole podcast below, but she made those remarks within the first five minutes. Or you can jump straight to them here.)

Imagine if what she said about Filipinos being people-pleasers gets out. Some would get angry, call her ungrateful… but then, we were taught from childhood that we are a “hospitable” people, and it’s almost always accompanied by a photo of a harried Filipino housewife serving loads of dishes to unknown visitors during a town fiesta, so let’s be real—she’s right. But then, we expect her to represent all of us—even if she really isn’t—and that means she can’t say anything bad about us, and she shouldn’t besmirch us the way that Desperate Housewives episode did, so…