Some filmmakers chase Cannes their whole lives, Arvin Belarmino just keeps coming back. This year, the Filipino director returns to the festival not with one, but two short films—Agapito and Ali—both vying for the coveted Short Film Palme d’Or. It’s his third consecutive year on the Croisette, and while the passport stamps may be piling up, the sense of wonder hasn’t faded. Instead, Belarmino is doubling down on what got him here in the first place: raw, heartfelt stories that find the extraordinary in the everyday. ZEEN speaks with both Belarmino and Agapito co-director Kyla Romero about their creative process and the road to Cannes.

“It still feels surreal,” Belarmino shares with ZEEN. “For Agapito, we’ve gone above and beyond to bring our team to Cannes. While we’ve experienced this festival before, we want more than ever to share the fire with them.” The news of not one but two films being selected took the team by surprise—though it was always backed by belief. “Two films in the official competition is something we didn’t think possible but believed can happen nonetheless. And it is that passion, and faith, paying off, that makes this experience timeless and unforgettable for us.”

Having earned the rare distinction of returning to Cannes consecutively—with last year’s Radikals competing in the Semaine de la Critique—Belarmino admits the experience never gets old. “Every Cannes is a new experience for us, and this uncertainty is something we embrace time and time again. We may see familiar places and faces—but the films, the events, the people, the overall affair will always be different,” he asserts. It’s this ever-evolving landscape that keeps him coming back not just to the festival, but to the craft itself. “It has become one of our greatest inspirations for pushing on with our filmmaking—for taking risks and innovating our cinema.”

Agapito and Ali, though different in tone and setting, are equally personal. Agapito finds its roots in something seemingly simple: a duckpin bowling alley. “We encountered news about the existence of a duckpin alley that still operated the old way—with people manually setting the pins,” Romero recalls. What started as fascination turned into something deeply emotional. “We were thrilled upon seeing this, and wanted to make a material about it. From this, we made a story, tapping into our own sentimentalities as directors. I dedicate this film to my father, the late Danny Romero, who raised me in a sports facility. While Arvin dedicates it to his special needs brother, the namesake of the film, ‘Agapito’ himself.”

If Agapito is about the people and passions they cherish, Ali is about the ones they can’t have. “It’s inspired by the things that we only love in secret,” she explains. Collaborating with director Adnan, the film emerged from shared memories of their home provinces—Agoo and Masbate—and an honest reckoning with cultural suppression. “We realized that the Philippines and Bangladesh are more alike than we think. And our means of breaking free from suppression has always been through art. That became the soul from which Ali came to be,” Romero shares.

For Belarmino, Cannes is more than a red carpet—it’s a stage where Filipino filmmakers get to show what sincerity can do. “It proves that Filipinos are more than capable of entering the world stage, and even more so dominating it,” he says. “Hence, our venture to Cannes is of great significance, and it gives the hope that Cannes has its doors open for filmmakers like us, who simply want to tell true, sincere stories—stories that we find in our very own backyards,” Romero adds.

They both assert, “Moreover, this is also a testament to the state of Philippine cinema itself. Because Philippine cinema is changing. It is innovating. It is alive. These films are proof. The world sees us for something more than we credit ourselves for. We don’t have to say big things, or contribute big thoughts to the conversation—we simply have to be, and that sincerity is, a lot of times, more than enough.”

Belarmino’s journey resonates strongly with Gen Z, a generation that values authenticity, creative freedom, and stories rooted in lived experience. His films aren’t filtered through the lens of what’s trendy, but through what’s true. From underdog alleyways to secret longings, his stories capture what it means to be young, passionate, and determined to tell the stories that matter—even when the odds are stacked. It’s a reminder that world-class cinema doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful, it just needs to be honest.

And while the competition is the headline, Cannes is also a crucial platform for future work. “Cinema is a never-ending exploration for us. Right now, we are keeping ourselves open to possibilities.” One of those is Belarmino’s first feature film Ria, which is gaining momentum through labs like the Cannes Cinefondation Residency and the Locarno Filmmakers’ Academy—and most recently, it was announced as one of just nine international projects awarded the highly competitive Sørfond Grant for 2025. With Norwegian co-producer Fernanda Renno of Fidalgo Film Productions onboard, Ria received NOK 500,000 in support. The jury praised the film as “a raw, brave, and urgent debut” set in a rarely depicted Filipino community, pulsing with punk energy and a defiant political spirit. Meanwhile, Giliw (Beloved)—the debut feature by Kyla Romero, produced by Belarmino—is also making waves as part of Focus CoPro by Cinéma de Demain. It was recently awarded a script development residency at the Women Writing Lab by HFF München in Munich, Germany. “Arvin is one of the producers of this project. This is something we are looking forward to as well,” Romero adds.

Three years in, and Arvin Belarmino is just getting started. With two films in competition, a debut feature on the horizon, and a growing presence on the international stage, he’s proving that Filipino stories—told with courage, heart, and craft—belong exactly where they are: at the center of global cinema. His Cannes streak isn’t just a personal milestone; it’s a signal to young filmmakers everywhere that homegrown stories can break boundaries—and that sincerity, when rooted in truth, travels far.