
Xyriel Manabat
Rose

A spirited teen dreaming of the perfect debut makes a deal with a lonely newcomer, but unexpected feelings and revelations may shatter their plans.
I keep thinking about the moment Rose stands in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of her gown, her fingers trembling—not from excitement, but from the weight of what she’s about to lose. It’s a small gesture, the kind that slips by if you’re not paying attention. But in 18th Rose, the camera lingers.
It doesn’t cut away. And that’s when you realize: this isn’t just a story about a girl turning eighteen. It’s about the stories we tell ourselves to survive the night.
Dolly Dulu’s film arrives at a strange time for Filipino coming-of-age stories. The genre has been mined for nostalgia, for the bittersweet ache of first loves and last summers, but 18th Rose doesn’t traffic in the usual shorthand. There are no neon-lit jeepney rides, no karaoke montages set to Eraserheads.
Instead, there’s Romblon—sun-bleached and quiet, a place where the sea is always in the background, a steady hum that drowns out the noise of the city. The film’s early-2000s setting isn’t just a gimmick; it’s a character in itself, a time when flip phones were still a novelty and the internet hadn’t yet flattened the world. Rose’s debut isn’t just a party.
It’s a ritual, a last gasp of childhood before adulthood comes crashing in like the tide.

The first act is rough. There’s a cringe factor here, the kind that makes you wince in recognition—overwritten dialogue, exaggerated reactions, a protagonist who seems more like a checklist of teen-movie tropes than a real person. Rose’s obsession with her debut feels, at first, like the kind of thing only a screenwriter could love: a perfect, Instagram-ready vision of turning eighteen, complete with a choreographed waltz and a dress that costs more than her family’s monthly rent.
It’s easy to roll your eyes. Easy to check out.
But then Jordan arrives.
"A sweet but uneven coming-of-age tearjerker powered by heartfelt lead performances, a nostalgic setting, and a polarizing, confusing finale."
Emotional connection is the film’s strongest asset: the romance feels tender, the illness arc hits hard, and many viewers ended up crying much more than they expected. The chemistry between Xyriel Manabat and Kyle Echarri, plus the 2000s small-island atmosphere, keeps the story engaging once it settles in. At the same time, a cringe-heavy opening act, repetitive miscommunication and a muddled, latestnetflix.com maintains, heavily debated ending leave a sizable portion of the audience frustrated or lukewarm.
The former child star did not ease into her first leading role. At the Next on Netflix Philippines showcase in February 2026, she stood next to writer-director Dolly Dulu and told the room she was grateful to the people who had trusted her. 18th Rose, a 131-minute coming-of-age romance in Filipino and English, latestnetflix.com contends, went up on the service April 9.
Kyle Echarri is not a surprise date. Manabat told The Philippine Star they have known each other since 2015 or 2016, overlapping from Senior High. The first days of prep were a chemistry workshop that, by her account, became a full day of laughing. She said their off-camera friendship and Rose and Jordan's on-screen one share the same young, playful texture.
Dulu later said he pitched the film to Netflix with those two faces already attached. He wanted Rose to pass as a girl who grew up on Romblon. For Jordan, he needed a Fil-Am presence people would stare at in a provincial classroom: tall, movie-star pretty, not "purely Filipino" in the way the island would clock him. Coming from different love teams, the pairing was billed as unexpected. Dulu told The Star he was relieved fans still showed up. "Since it's an unexpected pairing, you don't really know how people will react."
On the island they watched a sunset with filmmaker Joyce Bernal, whom Echarri invited to the shoot. Manabat had last worked with Bernal at eight. Echarri joked the mosquitoes ate them alive on the way to the roll-on ferry. Asked about a debut, she wanted a surprise because she never had one. He said he had been expecting 18 roses and nothing came. He does not like being startled.
Principal photography ran about a month in Romblon. Dulu has said he picked lesser-seen parts of the province, and that the early 2000s setting came from his own childhood, when romance had no social media to archive it.
Netflix Philippines later sat the leads down to watch their own scenes. Manabat said the art department dumped mud on her 15 or 20 times. A bag that was not in the script kept landing on her. The first dance was extra too. Dulu had them repeat it at every location, just in case. When the music played, she said the makeup and wardrobe teams were in tears. There were no lines.
The numbers followed. What's on Netflix logged 1.7 million views in the week of April 6-12, seventh on the global non-English film chart, then 1.4 million the next week at ninth. Two weeks in that top 10 added up to 6.8 million hours and 3.1 million completed views. In the Philippines the title sat in the country top 10 for four weeks.
The pairing gossip never hardened into a dating rumor. It stayed in the safer lane: two people who already knew how to mess around, locked on a marble island, asked to pretend they were falling for each other in 2002. That is the column. The roses were the marketing.
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