The Entitled: A Missed Chance for Depth

There’s a scene early in The Entitled where Belinda (Alex Gonzaga) stands awkwardly in her first designer dress, staring at herself in the mirror like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. It’s a moment that could have been the film’s emotional core—a young woman from Nalopok, suddenly thrust into high society, grappling with identity and belonging. But director Theodore Boborol never lets it breathe. Instead, he rushes past it, opting for shallow laughs over genuine introspection.

The premise is simple: Belinda discovers her estranged father is a wealthy hotel tycoon and is catapulted into a world she doesn’t understand. With the help of Jacob (JC de Vera), a charismatic attorney, she navigates this unfamiliar terrain. On paper, it’s ripe for satire or heartfelt drama, but The Entitled settles for something far blander. The film premiered on Netflix in 2022 to mixed reviews, with critics noting its lack of depth and predictable plot. And yet, there are flashes of potential—moments where the performances elevate the material just enough to make you wish Boborol had aimed higher.

Gonzaga is the heart of the film, even when the script lets her down. Her physical comedy is the strongest tool in her kit, particularly in scenes where Belinda’s rural upbringing clashes with high-society etiquette. There’s a genuine charm to her performance, especially when she’s fumbling through social situations with wide-eyed sincerity. But the writing often undercuts her. Belinda’s emotional journey is reduced to broad strokes—she’s either hilariously clueless or suddenly wise beyond her years, with little in between.

JC de Vera fares slightly better as Jacob, but only just. His character is written as the classic love interest archetype: charming, patient, and devoid of real conflict. De Vera brings a warmth to the role that makes him likable, but the script doesn’t give him much to work with beyond being Belinda’s guide through her new world. Their romance is telegraphed from the first act, lacking any real tension or chemistry.

The supporting cast fares even worse. Characters like Matilda (Ara Mina) and Enrico (Johnny Revilla) are reduced to caricatures—snobby socialites who exist solely to mock Belinda’s lack of refinement. The film leans heavily on classist humor, which might have worked if it were sharpened with wit or insight. Instead, it feels lazy, relying on tired stereotypes rather than clever observation.

Boborol’s direction is where The Entitled falters most. The pacing is uneven, rushing through emotional beats without giving them room to resonate. Scenes that could have been poignant—Belinda reconnecting with her estranged father, for example—are glossed over in favor of predictable plot twists. The cinematography is unremarkable, with static shots and flat lighting that do little to enhance the story.

Where The Entitled could have been a nuanced exploration of class anxiety—a theme Filipino cinema often excels at—it settles for superficiality. The film touches on ideas like individualism, power inequality, and the distance between social classes, but it never delves deep enough to say anything meaningful. It’s a missed opportunity, particularly in a country where class disparity is a pressing issue.

The romance, too, is underwhelming. There’s no real tension or conflict between Belinda and Jacob, making their relationship feel forced rather than earned. The film relies on tired tropes—the love interest who sees the protagonist’s inner beauty, the social climbing that leads to self-discovery—but never subverts them in any meaningful way.

Comparing The Entitled to other Filipino romantic comedies highlights its shortcomings. Films like Crazy Beautiful You or Be Careful With My Heart manage to balance humor and heart while exploring similar themes of class and identity. They succeed where The Entitled fails by grounding their stories in emotional truth rather than relying on broad comedy.

So who is The Entitled for? Casual viewers might find some enjoyment in its lighter moments, particularly Gonzaga’s physical comedy. But those looking for substance or originality will be disappointed. The film is a forgettable romp that offers neither laughs nor heart, and it’s hard to recommend it to anyone but the most dedicated fans of the genre.

In the end, The Entitled is a wasted opportunity. It had the potential to be something special—a sharp satire on class or a heartfelt exploration of identity—but instead, it settles for predictability and shallow humor.