Banned in Manila, Premieres in NZ: The West Philippine Sea Film That Couldn't Be Silenced

The film, originally selected by CinePanalo, a festival organised by supermarket giant Puregold, was suddenly removed from the programme after what organisers called "external pressure." The implication was clear to many: the film had touched a nerve too sensitive for some, particularly due to its depiction of China's presence in contested Philippine waters.

Puregold's ties to a Chinese supply chain reportedly placed the company in a precarious position, and the filmmakers were given a choice: pull the documentary or risk the entire festival being shut down. Villarama, unwilling to let her fellow directors suffer, withdrew. But her message was loud and clear. "Who runs our country now, if we can't even screen a film about our own people?" she said.

What started as a deeply local story about food delivery missions to outposts in the West Philippine Sea had become a case study in foreign influence, creative resistance, and the struggle for narrative control.

Despite the setback in the Philippines, Food Delivery found a second life across the ocean. It was invited to premiere at New Zealand’s DocEdge Festival, the Asia Pacific’s leading platform for documentary storytelling. For Villarama, this international recognition is more than a silver lining—it’s a lifeline for the story she believes must be told. The documentary follows the lives of Filipino fishermen and soldiers who operate in the contested waters of the West Philippine Sea, often under the threat of Chinese Coast Guard harassment.

The title, at first glance, seems lighthearted—evoking images of food delivery apps. But the metaphor runs deep. The film documents the arduous naval expeditions known as RODE—Rotation and Reprovision Missions—which bring food and supplies to Philippine outposts. These missions are vital for survival in the remote islands that define the nation’s maritime boundary.

Through vivid, human-centred storytelling, Villarama explores the lives of these quiet frontliners who maintain the country’s sovereignty while also ensuring food security. “Our fishermen aren’t just workers,” she said. “They’re our guardians. If they’re not okay, then our country isn’t okay.”

For Villarama, the film is a continuation of her life’s work as a storyteller committed to uncovering the human condition in complex political issues. After her critically acclaimed documentary Sunday Beauty Queen, she considered taking a step back from filmmaking. But as maritime tensions escalated in the West Philippine Sea, and as story after story emerged about harassment from Chinese vessels, she felt compelled to act. "I got tired of just being a spectator," she said. Food Delivery is the product of months of research and a month-long embed with fishing communities and naval personnel.

Villarama and her team witnessed drone surveillance, harassment from both Chinese militia and coast guard vessels, and the psychological toll that such constant scrutiny inflicts. But instead of chasing danger for spectacle, she chose to focus on the everyday lives of those at the frontline. One scene captures fishermen catching fresh jack-striped tuna and sharing a meal on deck, free at sea and proud of their work. “There was beauty in that freedom,” she said. “They live with a kind of purpose and peace that many of us in the cities will never know.”

The act of telling this story, however, has not been without consequence. Villarama and her crew were under surveillance during their expeditions, their movements shadowed by drones and Chinese Coast Guard ships as they approached key features like Scarborough Shoal.

One decision—to not cross the 30-nautical-mile boundary that would provoke an active chase—was driven not only by safety, but by purpose. “We already had footage. We had already captured something even more powerful—the real, unguarded lives of these people. Why risk lives for spectacle, when what’s at stake is already too real?” The tension, she believes, lies not in confrontation but in the contrast: between nations flexing military might and humble fishermen simply trying to survive.

The erasure of the film in Philippine theatres revealed the stark limitations of creative expression under geopolitical pressure. Yet the fallout also sparked solidarity. Philippine filmmakers, journalists, and even the government’s own classification board supported the film, granting it a PG rating suitable for schools and public viewing. The move highlighted a contradiction: the state deems the film educational, while commercial interests deemed it too controversial. “The censorship didn’t come from the government,” Villarama said. “It came from corporate fear. And that’s perhaps even more dangerous—because it’s less visible, less accountable.”

The decision to exclude the film from the Philippine festival circuit may have silenced its domestic reach, but it also magnified its message internationally. DocEdge’s late invitation was a welcome surprise for Villarama, who was already preparing for a long battle to keep the film alive. “They had already closed their programme,” she recalled. “But they asked to see it, and days later they invited us. It meant the world.”

In choosing to spotlight Food Delivery, DocEdge not only amplified a film—it lent its voice to an urgent cause. As Villarama noted, the West Philippine Sea isn’t just a map dispute; it’s a battleground for food, freedom, and identity.

The film invites audiences—Filipino and foreign alike—to see beyond headlines, to understand the lives at stake, and to ask why such a film would need to find sanctuary abroad. “We are at war,” she said, “a war of narratives. And I hope this film helps us remember what is ours, and why we must never give it up.”

At its core, Food Delivery is a love letter to the unsung. To the fishermen who work quietly at the frontlines of sovereignty. To the soldiers stationed in isolation, their only contact the monthly supply ships that keep them alive. To the mothers, sisters, and wives who wait back home, unseen but ever-present. For Villarama, their lives are not side stories in a larger geopolitical drama. They are the story. And through this film, she hopes to reframe the conversation—not around provocation, but preservation. “I want people to see how much we have,” she said, “so we stop letting it slip away.”

As the credits roll at DocEdge, thousands of kilometres from the shores of the Philippines, one message will linger: sovereignty is not just about lines on a map. It’s about people. Their dignity. Their purpose. Their right to be seen—and heard. Through this film, Villarama has delivered more than just a documentary. She has delivered a call to awareness, to action, and above all, to remember that the sea, and those who live by it, are worth fighting for.

The Food Delivery: Fresh from the West Philippine Sea will premiere in Auckland on June 30 at the Capitol Cinema, followed by a screening on July 4 at the Bridgeway Cinema. On July 27, it will be simultaneously shown at The Roxy Cinema in Wellington and the Lumiere Cinema in Christchurch. For full screening details, visit the DocEdge website.

-Asia Media Centre