Berlinale 2025: Where the Night Stands Still (dir. Liryc Dela Cruz) | Review
After a couple of short and feature length documentaries, and working with Lav Diaz on his Golden Leopard winner, From What is Before (2014), Liryc Dela Cruz debuts his first fiction feature, Where the Night Stands Still, in the inaugural Perspectives section at the 75th Berlinale. A man of many trades, Liryc serves as the director, writer, editor, cinematographer, producer, and production designer for his debut. Born in the Philippines, but based in Rome, Liryc, is a co-founder of the Il Mio Filippino Collective, a group of Filipino artists, domestic and care workers, and cleaners who are dedicated to fostering communities of resistance, care, and hospitality. With his multi-faceted knowledge and cultural background, Liryc’s fiction debut demonstrations a masterful use of economy and mise-en-scène where contemplation and family dynamics slowly simmer into a dramatic eruption.
The film focuses on three siblings under one location, that is the villa inherited by the Lillia, who worked for its former late owner, Patrizia, for over 35 years. Rosa and Manny, the two younger siblings who haven’t seen Lillia in years, pays a visit and sparks troubled memories along with the struggle as immigrants in a foreign country. The minimal and simple approach Liryc distills is well suited for a low budget, first time feature including a single location, long takes, static camera placement, minimal, yet realistic dialogue, and heavily contrasted black and white imagery. One can see the influence of Lav Diaz due to the slow cinema parameters, but Liryc aims to provide a different perspective by offering a moralistic story about Filipino family relations, immigrant experiences, the homeland and identity.

As the three siblings catch up, the subtle tension builds through fragile egos, forgotten memories, and the hunt for survival. Liryc also explores the notion of the forgotten homeland through Lillia’s inheritance. In the eyes of the siblings, Lillia appears to forget her Filipino roots due to her attachment of the villa (or Patrizia as her new family), causing an underlying strain on her real siblings. Manny and Rosa encourages her to sell the villa for a profit and move back to Philippines, but Lillia remains faithful towards the villa (and Patrizia). The disconnect between Lillia and the younger two are summarized through Manny’s languish immigrant experience, where he’d rather struggle in the Philippines than in Italy because in his words, “Here and in the Philippines, we are slaves”.
Liryc’s crucial use of location drives the film’s central figures into the deep trenches of their relationships. As the fourth unofficial character, the villa’s value is viewed at from two different perspectives. From Lillia, a mixture of hard work, luck, and grace due to her intimate relationship with Patrizia. For Manny and Rosa, the villa is a gateway to escape their struggle of slavery. In an ultimate conclusion that shocks in an intensely dramatic fashion (similarly to Lav Diaz’s Norte, the End of History), Liryc’s act of subversiveness does not stray away from the human condition. With a patient and precise direction, Liryc’s chamber room drama unveils the fragility of the human spirit through the Filipino diaspora.
Film Fest Report is an accredited media at the 75th Berlin International Film Festival.



