‘18th Rose’ is a love letter to early-2000s childhood
A scrappy small-town girl meets a grumpy boy visiting from the States. They bicker and fight—wait, they’re actually kind of cute. They strike a deal to help each other reach their goals, but surprise, surprise, the cat and mouse fall in love and get more than what they bargained for.
It’s a tale as old as time. But while Netflix’s “18th Rose”—starring Xyriel Manabat and Kyle Echarri—tinkers with those tried-and-tested tropes, it’s the choice of setting that wraps this otherwise familiar romantic drama in charm and nostalgia.
Shot in Romblon, the movie takes place at the fascinating technological crossroads of the early 2000s. Physical media and analog formats were still the way of life, but the internet and digital media were no longer seen as a novelty, but as viable mainstream tools. Where one would hang out in computer shops for an hour or two, chat with strangers on Yahoo! Messenger (YM), and then disconnect and play outside, listen to music on their Walkman, or sit in front of the family television.
‘Ate, pa-extend!’
This was writer-director Dolly Dulu’s childhood, and “18th Rose” is her way of reliving that era.
“Laking computer shop kasi ako—panahon ng ISP Bonanza, YM, at ‘Ate, kuya pa-extend. We downloaded songs from Limewire and burned them onto CDs,” the director tells Lifestyle Inquirer. “That transition period, where we experienced the best of both worlds, was one of the happiest times in my life. I wanted to write that story—and I know how to tell it—because I felt it.”
It’s only fitting then that many of the film’s establishing and pivotal scenes happen at a community computer shop called “Green Skies.” There, Rose (Manabat) feeds her 18th birthday fantasies by watching videos of lavish, celebrity debut parties. It’s also where Jordan (Echarri) desperately tries to email his father overseas, after he’s begrudgingly moved to Romblon with his mother.
True enough, the computer shop was a popular third space that allowed kids and teens to connect physically and digitally. You made friends with people God knows where and with the person in the next cubicle. Things were fast, but not always instant. The internet complemented life; it didn’t dictate it.
“While we could already go online, you still had to go out and meet new people if you wanted to build relationships. You had to put in the effort and initiate small talk to get to know someone better. You had to actively seek ways to experience life,” Dulu says. “That’s something I want to share, to let people today experience, even if only through a film.”
The less signal, the better
Basic brick-style cellphones and bulky computer sets with CRT monitors helped set the mood. While Manabat and Echarri—born in 2004 and 2003, respectively—didn’t exactly live through the era, they both have enough early recollections of such devices and hand-me-downs from their elders to feel transported to that time.
However, most of the nostalgic heavy lifting was done, not by the props but by the location. In a way, the simplicity of life in Romblon harkens back to how Dulu remembers the world in the early 2000s. This was especially true while filming scenes on Sibuyan Island, where internet connectivity is so scarce and inconsistent that they might as well be back in time.
“At first, I chose Romblon to create that small-town Filipino film vibe. I also wanted to show places in the Philippines that we might know by name, but not actually know what they look like,” Dulu says. “But more importantly, in the end, it compelled us to spend our days as we used to.”
“We’ve got to slow down and take our time appreciating nature, the food, and the fresh air. Kailangan mong chumika sa mga tao sa paligid,” she adds. “Hindi ka nagmamadaling makakuha ng reply—there’s no use checking your phone all the time anyway.”
A grateful heart
Sometimes, Dulu wonders if she’s seeing things—as most of us do with our own childhood’s—through rose-tinted glasses. But perhaps not. Technology has made just about everything fast and fleeting, and the recent trend of returning to analog tells her that she’s not alone in her yearning. “Digital cameras have become popular again, for instance,” she observes.
These things won’t fully recreate the early-2000s—digital media has become far too ingrained in our daily lives to give up. Still, she hopes that something as simple as playing music on CDs or watching a pure love story can still stir that old unhurried feeling.
“I hope it can bring back memories that make people smile. In this age, we just need something to remind us that the simplicity we look back on fondly can also come from within,” Dulu says. “If we look at things with a grateful heart, I think that can make our lives lighter amid all the noise.”
