Robinson’s debut film First Light will screen at the 2025 Melbourne International Film Festival (MIFF) from 7 to 24 August at venues across Melbourne and regional Victoria.
In his debut feature film, First Light, director James J. Robinson delves deeply into personal themes of faith, identity, and heritage, against the evocative setting of northern Luzon in the Philippines. Inspired by his own experiences as a queer individual navigating the complexities of growing up Catholic, Robinson crafts a film that thoughtfully moves from initial disillusionment toward eventual reconciliation. The film stars Ruby Ruiz (Expats) alongside Filipino cinematic icons Maricel Soriano and Kidlat Tahimik and has garnered notable acclaim, including selection in MIFF’s Bright Horizons Competition. Here, Robinson reflects candidly on the personal journey behind the film, his visual influences, and how the project bridges his Filipino and Australian identities.
First Light is your full-length directorial debut – what inspired this particular story, and why was it important to set it in Baguio?
This story was founded in my frustration against the Catholic Church. Being raised Catholic and being sent to a devout Catholic College from a young age, I was taught the world operated in a particular way under God, and then through the introduction of the sun, these were manipulated against me as someone who’s gay. I suppose it disillusioned me from the church from a young age, but now I’ve reached a point through therapy and maturity that I can disassociate the beautiful, kind morals of the religion from the Catholic institution that gets corrupted by politics and money. I wanted to tell a story that walked that line, that mapped my own journey from devout Catholic, to anger, to peace. And for me, being raised mostly Catholic on my Filipino side, it made more sense to explore these themes in the context of the motherland. While my mother was born in Quezon City, our bloodlines run up the island to Ilocos and Benguet, so to use this story as a conduit to reconnect with my ancestors felt like the right choice, and I could speak for many hours on how blessed the project felt by those higher powers.
***NOTE: while we did most research in Baguio, the film isn’t set in a particular town, just generalised northern Luzon
The film has been selected for MIFF’s Bright Horizons Competition – one of the richest film prizes in the Southern Hemisphere. What does this recognition mean to you as a first-time director?
Of course, it’s a nice feeling, and very validating as a first-time filmmaker to be in competition alongside such incredible films around the world. The Sound of Falling, Renoir and Urchin have been very high on my watchlist since their Cannes premieres. However, I’m in this business because I enjoy writing things, making things, and most of all, bringing people together. There was so much joy in seeing my Australian crew becoming close friends with my Filipino crew; there was a level of cultural exchange I could never justifiably put into words. It was like seeing the way I’ve had to blend being Australian and Filipino at the same time, internally happen externally before my eyes. This is the true reward, and no other acclaim or award could top those feelings. So yes, it’s a total honour, but these festivals, parties and awards are only a small cherry on top of a much larger journey.
The cast includes some Filipino cinematic icons like Maricel Soriano and Kidlat Tahimik. What was it like working with these legends on your first feature
Working with such industry legends gave me so much confidence. While I’ve worked with many celebrities around the world as a photographer, this was still my first time directing a narrative feature. So, to have actors who know their craft always gave me something to lean on. I would explain to them the subtext of my film, the deeper motivations of their characters, and then in rehearsals, I had total trust that they had the ability to interpret those themes in their own ways. Everyone, and in particular my lead actress, Ruby Ruiz, was so open to giving me advice when I didn’t know what I was doing. I learned so much from them, and that’s something I’ll carry on to every project in the future.
You have a strong visual background as a photographer. How did your photography sensibilities inform the film’s aesthetic and storytelling style?
When I was writing the screenplay, I had very clear visions in mind of how each thing would look. I did my best to describe this, but not to over-describe that it would’ve left no room for my cinematographer or production designer to add their own voices. When it comes to my photography, lighting is the most important aspect, and I always shoot wide because I like to situate my subjects in an environment. These were the same key choices for myself and Amy Dellar, my cinematographer. We didn’t want to use too many angles, make everything so perfectly polished, etc. Instead, we were interested in letting the camera feel more like an omnipresent gaze, so there’s hardly any close-ups, and there are many long takes that let the actors perform almost more like it was a theatre performance. We don’t want to tell the audience what to think; we want them to feel like they’re observing from afar and to make their own thoughts.
From what we’ve seen and read, First Light is rich with visual poetry and symbolism. Can you speak about the visual metaphors or recurring motifs that shape the narrative?
There are a number of metaphors and motifs that shape this film. We were playing with some pretty loaded imagery. There’s a responsibility when you’re working with symbols that have existed in the Catholic Church for thousands of years, so I don’t use them lightly. That being said, while I have my own interpretations of what’s going on on the screen, I don’t want to over-explain them and potentially risk voiding anyone else’s readings. This is a layered film, and each symbol could hold multiple meanings depending on you as the audience. As such, I think it would do a disservice to the film to be overly prescriptive in the way that I see those motifs and why I used them. Perhaps those are questions audiences can debate between themselves, and if they really want, message me about [them].
ON FILIPINO IDENTITY AND DIASPORA
As a Filipino-Australian artist working globally, how does your cultural heritage influence the stories you tell?
No matter what I do, my identity informs my gaze as an artist. It’s funny, I think about this a lot when it comes to queer cinema – there are some queer storytellers that may make a film that has no queer plot lines at all. Then there are heterosexual filmmakers who may make a film about gay people. In this context, what is queer cinema? To me, a piece of art is always informed by the gaze of its maker, and while I may make films in the future that don’t have overtly Filipino themes or characters, to me, there’s still an undying Filipino outlook on everything. It’s in how I was raised as a person! Similarly, while this film is set in the Philippines, the majority of its funding is Australian, and there’s commentary on the Catholic Church that was very much inspired by my experiences being oppressed by the Church in Australia. Sadly, the experience is universal. There’s no way these parts of my identity can be removed from the stories I tell. You won’t find overtly queer themes in First Light, but also – old powerful nuns in the mountains of the Philippines in blue habits? There’s a level of camp in there and an inspiration from Hollywood Golden Age leading ladies in my characters, so to me it feels queer.
This film was supported by both Filipino and Australian film bodies – how does First Light reflect or bridge these two identities?
Rectifying my identity as being mixed race has always been a challenge. I’m too Filipino to fully exist in white spaces and white culture, and too Australian to exist entirely in Filipino ones. But while I spent most of my life feeling like I was never enough for either, I now feel like I’m entirely a product of both. It took me a long time to merge these two sides of myself into some kind of equilibrium, but now I’ve done it internally, I know exactly how to speak to both Filipino and Australian film bodies in a way that finds the mutual interests and universal overlaps of culture and identity. That universality means it can extend to other countries and people when they watch this film too; we wanted to dig at something deeper, more human, than the national lines that divide us.
Do you think your work helps challenge or reshape how Filipino stories are seen in Western media?
I don’t think I can say that’s something that may become clearer over time, but it’s something out of my control. Now the film’s done, my job is to surrender and let it exist in the public sphere without me trying to control anything. I do love that making this film with two different government bodies does mean we’re bringing Filipino cinema to Australia in a manner that’s never quite been done before, and if a single person watches this film and is inclined to seek more Filipino films by legends like Lav Diaz, Lino Brocka or Kidlat Tahimik, I’d consider it a success. There are many, many legends that have been doing this for decades before me, and I’m a small stepping stone in a much grander pathway.
ON ART, ADVOCACY AND STORYTELLING
Your past works – like Inang Maynila and Burn the Blazer – have tackled political and personal issues. Does First Light continue that thread of social commentary?
Absolutely. Apart from my more fun editorial photography career, which I suppose I more see as an outlet for pent-up creative energy, the thing that drives me to create is to make any attempt I can to make the world a better place. Sometimes that feels like a ripple in the ocean, but a ripple in the ocean is more than nothing. As my favourite author, Ursula K Le Guin, said, the true reward in this line of work is freedom. Creating art is not about awards, money or social capital; collectively, we strive for a larger goal. I would never be able to make a film that isn’t fanned by the flames of my anger towards oppressive power structures. And if that’s your reason for creating, then it’s a sustainable well of conviction that could never, ever possibly run dry.
What responsibility, if any, do you feel as a storyteller to represent or confront difficult truths, especially when drawing from heritage and history?
There is absolutely a place in storytelling for escapism – and in fact, it’s a necessary antidote for living in the times we do. I don’t think I would’ve survived moments of my life had I not had other worlds to escape to in books or on screen. For me, I’m lucky to know that my voice does feel the responsibility to confront difficult truths; I’ve seen too much and had too many friends go through awful things to ever let that side of myself lay to rest. While trying to change things through art can feel futile, we’ve seen it work before, and I’ll never stop trying; protest is protest no matter how effective it feels, as much as those in power wish to make you disbelieve.
ON CAREER AND CREATIVE GROWTH
You’ve photographed huge names like Kylie Jenner and Rihanna – but now you’ve turned your lens toward something more introspective and cultural. Was that shift intentional? Can you talk about it?
I’ve always been shooting introspective and cultural work, though much of it I sat on, and only few projects like Inang Manila or On Golden Days I released. To be honest, I think I had to wait until I was a certain age, and had a certain amount of life experience to release work that was up to a standard I set for myself. As much as you think you understand the world when you’re young, I also knew there was so much I didn’t know, and could never know, unless I meaningfully engaged with people and lived my life purposefully. It’s been wonderful working with such big celebrities, not only because of the exposure it offered me, but because I get to meet more and more people in the craziest sectors of the world. That only ever helps me understand people even more. From the outside, First Light may feel like a pivot, but for me, this is the first time I’m releasing a piece of work that feels entirely me.
LOOKING AHEAD
What’s next for First Light after MIFF? Are there plans for further international screenings or distribution?
There absolutely are. The film will be in theatres in Australia by the end of this year or early next year, thanks to our distributors, Bonsai Films. We’re planning our international premieres, with ideas for each continent, but for the time being, we need to keep these all under wraps. We can’t wait to bring the film around the world, though, since we believe this is a story that will resonate universally – the corruption of religion by politics and money is sadly an issue that’s pertinent in all corners of the world.
Are there future stories you’re itching to tell — especially those rooted in the Filipino or diaspora experience?
There are – I have a number of films written and ready to go, the question is just choosing which one is next and when the time is right to tell each story. I have one other film set partially in the Philippines that’s an adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s controversial novel Heart of Darkness. It’s both a modernisation and a total subversion of its colonial themes, in a way that I still think pays respect to some of Conrad’s more ethical intentions. It’s been one of those projects that’s never left my mind since I conceptualised it, and it bleeds into every part of my day in some form or another.
First Light will screen from 10 to 23 August 2025 at select Melbourne and regional theatres as part of MIFF. For more details, visit https://miff.com.au/program/film/first-light.
