Forgotten Island and the Filipino Story: One Story, Many Voices
October is Filipino American History Month, and as award season approaches in early 2027, Filipinos everywhere have reason to cheer for DreamWorks Animation's Forgotten Island. The film is a fast-paced celebration of '90s nostalgia, provincial life, and Filipino culture, packed with food, music, and karaoke. It captures our hospitality, our love of family, and our respect for elders, while also touching on the tensions that come with the Filipino experience.
As a Filipino American who lived in the Philippines for 10 years as a journalist, learning Tagalog and polishing my Cebuano, I noticed the film's Americanisms. Unlike some critics on social media, I was not bothered by them. They did not diminish the film's Filipino heart.
What makes the film truly Filipino?
The most relatable parts of Forgotten Island are not the mythical creatures or the folklore. They are the moments set in the real world. Jo's father calling to say he is not taking her to America reflects a painful reality for millions of Filipino children left behind by migrating parents. Raissa's family pressure to leave the Philippines speaks to a society where success often means leaving home. The grief of boarding a flight, knowing the move is likely permanent, is a feeling many of us know too well.
An American colleague of mine was shocked to learn that the Philippines has entire government institutions dedicated to overseas Filipino affairs, driven by our reliance on remittances. For millions of non-Filipinos, this film may be a first window into a reality where not seeing your children grow up is just part of life.
Why the Filipino and Filipino American story is one story
I do not see the story of Filipinos in the motherland and those abroad as separate. They are one. A Filipino is a Filipino wherever they are, whether they speak fluent Filipino or not, whether they last stepped foot home a year ago or 40 years ago. Our collective story starts in the cities and provinces, stretches across oceans to the diaspora, and finds its way back again.
I understand the frustration of viewers who do not see their exact experience in a single movie. But the beauty of living today is that we do not need to put all our hopes for representation in one film. Nor do we need Hollywood to validate our stories.
Do Filipinos need Hollywood's approval?
No. While it is exciting to see our stories reach a global audience, and I will be cheering loudly for this film at the Oscars, seeking validation from Hollywood is tired and overrated. Forgotten Island is an achievement worth celebrating, but Filipino storytelling does not begin or end with it.
If we want true representation, we must take it upon ourselves to tell the Filipino story as we know it. Write it. Speak it. Sing it. Paint it. Draw it. Use whatever platforms we have. Neither Hollywood nor any other big machine in the West is the validator of our experiences. We are.
Ryan Macasero is a reporter for the Mercury News, covering San Jose, California. He is a former Rappler multimedia reporter and editor of the #BalikBayan section.