There are movies that make you laugh, and others that make you think. Then there’s Flower Girl—a cinematic fever dream that does both and then some. It hooks you with its absurd premise, mixes in fairy magic, gender politics, and sharp humor, then leaves you torn between cackling and unpacking the message. It’s bold and bizarre, and at the heart of all the chaos is Sue Ramirez, whose fearless performance as Ena anchors the madness with charm, wit, and surprising emotional depth.

Directed and written by Fatrick Tabada, Flower Girl follows Ena, a woman at the top of her game—confident and living the dream as a top sanitary napkin endorser. She’s polished, poised, and proud of her power, until a random CR encounter with a trans-fairy turns her world upside down. Just like that, her vagina vanishes. Gone. Snatched. She’s left with only a magical flower whose petals fall one by one unless she finds “true love” before the last one drops. What starts as a surreal quest to reclaim a missing body part quickly transforms into a much bigger journey: a twisted fairytale about identity, womanhood, and the way society defines femininity.

So yes, it’s wild, but it’s also wickedly smart. Flower Girl skewers gender norms, satirizes social expectations, and calls out the absurd pressures placed on women and queer people alike. At the center of it all is Sue, who brings Ena to life with fearless commitment. When the project came her way, she was all in—ready and eager to take on a story that pushes boundaries and sparks conversation.

“It’s very, very unique,” Sue tells ZEEN, her voice steady with certainty. “But what made me say yes is number one, the production that I’ll be working with: The IdeaFirst Company, CreaZion Studios, and Octobertrain. I know the kind and the quality of movies they make, at ‘yung material ay iba talaga. It’s a movie you don’t stop talking about when you get out of the cinema—the conversation only starts there and continues on the way home and before you sleep. There’s a debriefing that’s needed for movies that are this strong.”

What’s striking is how much trust Sue had in the team behind Flower Girl. She signed on based on the concept alone—not having fully read the script. “I didn’t even have to read the script when I said yes,” she says. “I’m a big fan of Fatrick Tabada, so when he pitched this movie to me, knowing that he wrote it and he’s going to be directing, I said yes concept pa lang. Tapos naloka ako no’ng nabasa ko na ‘yung script—but no, I knew that I trusted the set. I was confident na pagdating ko sa set, aalagaan ko at iingatan ako. ‘Di nila ako papabayaan.”

Of course, playing a woman who loses her vagina isn’t exactly in the rom-com starter pack—but that’s precisely the point. Ena starts out as a woman who’s defined her power by how she presents her femininity to the world. Losing that, in the most absurd way possible, forces her to confront what makes her her—when society’s definitions no longer apply. Sue handles Ena’s transformation with the perfect balance of satire and sincerity, allowing audiences to laugh, wince, and reflect in equal measure.

And because Flower Girl leans into its humor, the questions follow suit. Naturally, ZEEN had to ask: what would Sue do if her Poochy went missing?

“Maybe 911, noh, for emergencies?” she laughs. “‘Cause if I call my mom, hindi naman niya mababalik Poochy ko. No, you should go to the hospital immediately, or maybe even call an albularyo. But seriously, kung mawawala Poochy ko, ichichika ko agad sa pinsan ko para i-wish ko rin na mawala din Poochy niya,” Sue jokes.

And what if Poochy could send her a text after disappearing?

“‘Tutal, reklamo ka nang reklamo sa ’kin, aalis na lang ako,’” she quips, grinning.

Still, Flower Girl isn’t just one long punchline. Underneath the comedy, the film explores very real themes around intimacy, compatibility, and what love looks like in a world obsessed with labels. So ZEEN asked: does Sue think the Poochy is a necessary part of falling in love or finding “the one”?

“Malaking factor siya ng love. Malaking factor ‘yung sexual compatibility,” the actress answers thoughtfully. “We honor, of course, those who look at sex as sacred, but for me, personally, you need to get to know the person more and see if you’re sexually compatible before really deciding if this is endgame.”

It’s a refreshingly honest take—one that aligns with how Gen Z talks about love: open, curious, and nuanced. 

But beyond the big questions of love and identity, Sue is still someone who finds joy in the simple, everyday things. When asked about the content creators she currently follows, her face lights up.

“Grabe ako pasayahin ni Malupiton and Happy Friend Vlogs,” she says. “’Yan guilty pleasure ko, nanonood ng kalokohan nila.”

And when it comes to unwinding after all the onscreen madness, Sue’s tip is long showers:

“It really helps with de-stressing. Mainit muna, tapos cold towards the end, so it usually helps me.”

Flower Girl may be absurd, but its message is very real. And with Sue at the center of it all—flawed, funny, and fabulously fearless—it becomes a film that dares to ask: what if everything you thought made you “you” suddenly disappeared? Would you still be whole? Would you still be loved?

With Flower Girl, Sue Ramirez doesn’t just star in a movie—she carries a cinematic dare on her shoulders—one that’s weird and unapologetically bold. And in a world where femininity is often boxed and sold, this film, and its fearless lead, chooses to bloom on their own chaotic terms.

Flower Girl is showing in cinemas nationwide on June 18.