First Light: The Intersection of Faith, Power, and Government
by Sydney Reyes
The Filipino-Australian production, First Light (2025) by director James J. Robinson made its premiere at the 2025 Melbourne International Film Festival, taking us to the secluded mountains in northern Luzon of the Philippines. The film follows Sister Yolanda (Ruby Ruiz), a nun much too witty given her occupation. When she witnesses the mysterious death of a young boy working on a construction site and dubious neglect from the hospital accommodating him, the nun wakes to the harsh reality of the world outside the convent.
Robinson rightfully earns the two hours of time and attention from audiences. The film is a slow, ponderous exploration of the real issues that go on in the country: corruption, mistreatment of the working class, and how the church plays into this. The film masterfully handles these themes in the most profound manner. However, what makes First Light stand out is its perspective. We see these layered issues through the eyes of a nun, offering a point of view I never really considered. First Light takes its sweet time in showing us the world of Sister Yolanda, from living in the convent to her routine of visiting not only sick patients in the local hospital, but also an elder on their deathbed who knew her mom way back. As the film progresses and more issues come to the surface, Sister Yolanda realizes that she has been living a sheltered life in the convent. Yet no matter how much she tries to help, she is ultimately powerless to the bigger entities of the government, the rich, and the church. Watching Sister Yolanda’s world crumble alongside the decline of her health ignites an anger in the audience, confronting us with the blunt truth that these issues are bigger than herself, and not even the church is guiltless.
A film that is an intersection of heavy and real issues requires a lead who can express being at the receiving end of it. Ruby Ruiz, a veteran Filipina actress, shoulders the gritty role of Sister Yolanda. Ruiz’s portrayal of a gentle, mild-mannered nun who is not afraid to speak her mind is authentic and immersive. But when her character is put through so much pain, revelation, and disappointment, Ruiz passionately shows us quiet anger. Ruiz’s Sister Yolanda successfully reflects the audience’s feelings after seeing how the system can fail people, letting them connect with the film even deeper. There are also other great performances in the film, such as the evil conviction expressed by the locally-revered Maricel Soriano, and the fresh innocence of a novitiate nun by first-time actress Kare Adea, all working to deliver the story in a genuine manner. Yet it is truly Ruiz's performance that deserves the central role, and is integral to getting First Light’s messages across.
First Light contains a notable dichotomy: as the plot thickens and we are faced with sadder realities, the backgrounds remain somber and beautiful. One of the most interesting stylistic choices is the lack of closeups. Scenes where characters have difficult conversations are filled with stunning greenery and landscapes of the Philippine province, almost cushioning us from the weight of what’s going on. We rarely see Sister Yolanda and other characters’ facial expressions up close, relying on their voices and body language to fully understand their emotions. This balance kept me engaged, simultaneously appreciating the views and infrastructure of my country while my heart breaks for people at the receiving end of injustice.
The film’s clear and clean-cut stance on dealing with spiritual doubt amongst all the chaos is best seen at the end of the film when a changed Sister Yolanda and a fellow nun sit in an outdoor karinderya (cafeteria) at dusk, contemplatively discussing their faith. Questioning it alongside the institutions they are supposed to trust—they even go so far as to wonder if there really is a God. This deeply meaningful exchange concludes with the idea that choosing to believe in anything, means you must acknowledge the doubt within. Despite everything Sister Yolanda witnessed, her peer gently reminds her that there is no right or wrong way of practicing one’s faith. The lifestyle of the sisterhood is not the only way, that even something like faith can be on one’s own terms. This is a powerful scene that perfectly encapsulates the heart of First Light. In one scene alone, Robinson slowly but surely expresses the thesis of the film, ensuring we leave the cinema fully grasping the message.
First Light is a patient and steady unraveling of how selfish human interest can muddle the authority of not just government, but religious institutions supposedly guided by a firmer morality. It’s a tough reality to come to terms with, but Sister Yolanda powers through, coming out a little wiser in the end. And when all is done and irreversible, if it’s still beyond your control, maybe the only thing left to do is to walk away. The film may take time to tell its story, but this silence makes a loud statement. First Light deliberately challenges our attention span to go the extra mile and witness the unpolished and authentic issues in the Philippines, along with musings on spiritual doubt. It’s a true eye-opener that leaves you in a reflective state even after the credits roll.