“Mind your f*king business!” echoes in my room, as Liza Soberano stabs at a cake multiple times, grunting as she does so. It feels awkward in her tightly laced corset and long sleeves that likely ended with frosting on its edges. It feels editorial, even performative, in nature. Like someone attempting to emulate Taylor Swift’s crash in her music video for Blank Space with its extravagant set design and perfectly angled cameras.
It is a terribly uncomfortable watch.
But that seems to be the style of Sarah Bahbah, the director of this elevated “podcast”—uncomfortable truths within gilded backdrops based on her creative portfolio.
“Why bring up the director?” you might ask. To understand the inner workings of what I like to call a “bid for authenticity” by Liza Soberano, we need to look into why everything looks the way it does, and what feelings it might evoke within us. For some, this is simply “aesthetic,” but for someone like me who loves dissecting PR moves and marketing and analyzing movies and shows for a hobby, artists (both the good and bad ones) are almost always intentional with every detail within their shot.
Director Bahbah, despite having work that I can admire, feels cartoonish with her deep voice and surface-level pseudo-therapist questions (though she does admit to not being a therapist). She looks and sounds peak “LA”—when you want to make fun of someone from Los Angeles, you act like her. Maybe it’s my jaded outlook or the fact that I’m finally seeing that stereotype in reality that makes me dock points from this project in particular.
According to Bahbah’s description for the video, “As a director, I built this world in close collaboration with @LizaSoberanoOfficial, shaping every detail of the set based on where she told us she feels safest, a space where she could fully tap into her truth. What you’re about to witness is entirely unscripted from Liza.” It is the first call to authenticity for someone whose image has been planned out to the minutiae. Thinking on her origins and the context of her fame, everything down to her love life was planned out by studios. It’s an open secret that they are corporate in nature, but it is still a sweet lie we choose to participate in.
But what of the contents? An hour-long video separated into chapters detailing the biggest parts of her life. Her childhood, where she suffered abuse under her mother’s boyfriend and even the foster family who took her in the longest. Her longstanding romance with Enrique Gil that lasted throughout all of her early 20s, culminating in her symbolically serving cake to those who have hurt her, and then smashing it all.
All this within gorgeous sets that, to me, feel both authentic and inauthentic, but mostly the latter in my humblest of opinions. It feels performative in nature, despite the contents being so raw and heavy. Setting Soberano in a bathtub and then on a fancy chair in her “persona” as she talks about her real-life experiences creates this dream-like, disconnected feeling from the contents, at least for me. She recounts horrible tales of abuse while the camera pans and cuts as if it was a photoshoot (to which there are apparently prints for sale if we so choose to purchase). It’s all as if to say, “Hi! Here’s all the bad things that happened to me, but don’t I look gorgeous?”
To add a little more, I personally don’t appreciate director Bahbah’s interlaced cuts to herself within the edit. It comes off as sharing the spotlight and pushing herself to be a character when, in my opinion, her disembodied voice would have more than sufficed and given more shine to her own subjects. It, at the risk of sounding extremely critical, feels narcissistic in execution. But who am I to judge?
I personally don’t appreciate director Bahbah’s interlaced cuts to herself within the edit. It comes off as sharing the spotlight and pushing herself to be a character
But then again, why sit around on a couch in just as vapid a set and recount those stories when you can go the extra mile for artistry and do it in what might be, ironically, more authentic to Soberano? For what it’s worth, based on the 1 million+ views as of this writing, it has captured the Philippine audience and has been buzzing in my own circles for a bit. Many are supportive of this form of expression for Soberano, and I’m all for it. I’m allowed to say I don’t like something, but also give credit where credit is due. Heck, I’d even give her flowers to celebrate this. If it means something to her, then who am I to judge?
Soberano’s bid for authenticity, though not my cup of tea, is something I’m capable of admiring in both execution and bravery. It is a brave thing for someone who was once so entrenched in the strict rules of Philippine celebrity-hood to come out and be more “real.” I’d argue that most people back in the Philippines are not ready to hear this side of her, nor see her in this light. She’s discovering herself after having been suppressed by Philippine media and the opinions of those around her. And I can deeply relate to that as a fellow mid-20s girl trying to find her place. The difference between her and me (besides Soberano being absolutely gorgeous and ethereal, in my opinion) is that I get to make my mistakes in private, whereas hers are publicized for mass scrutiny—something that, despite her sweet disposition, takes immense strength to power through, especially with how early she was exposed to the public limelight.
At the end of the day, what even is authentic? Is it sitting on a couch recounting tales of abuse with mics in hand? Is what Soberano did a sin worthy of crucifixion online? Was it even real or just a well-calculated move by her and her team to change her image? What does it say about our world and how we view authenticity if it needs to come immaculately packaged like this video?
Despite what might seem like a scathing review, at the end of the day, I like this direction that Soberano is going towards, and only wish the best for her. I hope that, in doing this project, she feels she learned a lot of valuable lessons from it. With her move to LA and her first role in an American movie last year, I can only hope that she discovers more of herself now that she’s moved away from the Philippines and into a more global career. Good luck, Liza Soberano! And, in your words, I’ll mind my own f*cking business.
