Love Teams: The cultural phenomenon of the movie industry

Fernando Armorsolo - On the way Home

Hands down the best movie genre of all time are RomComs. I would watch everything including Hollywood classics like Pretty Woman to the very popular 10 Things I hate About You. But in truth, the movies that I looked most forward to were Filipino RomComs.

You may ask, what is so different? Well, most of these Romcoms have set “LoveTeams” that entail two famous actors that star in multiple movies, shows, and advertisements together. Many then end up dating in real life which feeds into the lore of it all. These LoveTeams stole the hearts of the masses, including mine.

Growing up, I was obsessed with KathNiel— Kathryn Bernardo and Daniel Padilla, known as the box office king and queen. Watching them wasn’t just about enjoying their performances; it was about feeling kilig a Filipino term for that indescribable giddiness sparked by moments of heartwarming connection. KathNiel embodied this emotion, both off and on screen, appearing in holiday specials, singing together on talk shows, and modeling on massive billboards along the highways.But at the heart of why we feel kilig lies a system that blurs the line between performance and personal life.

If you are placed in a successful love team, you are set for life. These LoveTeams, much like sports teams operate under an intricate structure. The talent agencies act as coaches, pairing the actors together ,and training them rigorously to be on the playing field to make their filmographies the next best thing. Paparazzi, talk shows, and marketing campaigns are the supporting players, building and amplifying the brand. And then there’s the fanbase — the goal keeper of the team whose passion can make or break a LoveTeam’s success. The goalkeeper determines whether or not the other team gets a point. If your goalkeeper is “goated”, your team is complete. Many fandoms follow a cult-like obsession that keeps the mvps cherished. From fan accounts to edits, it allows not only other super fans to watch but even convince the average spectator watching the game to feel kilig.

However, the relentless pursuit of perfection and constant supervision can come at a cost. Being the MVP on a championship team gives you fame and adoration but also the pressure to maintain that image, with every game or new project people are always expecting the best. The lines between their real identities and their on -screen personas blur the weight of living upto the expectations of fans, and their own careers in the industry can become overwhelming.

You may ask, what happens when the MVPs retire—or worse, when the team disbands? The breakup of KathNiel, whether as a love team or as a real-life couple, reveals the weak foundation on which this system thrives. Their partnership wasn’t just a career— it was a cultural institution, propped up by fans who invested not only time but emotional stakes. When the fantasy ends, it’s not just the actors left to pick up the pieces, but also the fans whose sense of kilig is tethered to the duo’s perfection.

The end of KathNiel challenges us to reconsider the love team phenomenon. It asks us whether the system truly allows for authenticity, or if it traps its stars in golden cages. In their prime, Kathryn and Daniel weren’t just making movies; they were performing a dream that millions believed in. But dreams, like love teams, are built on a delicate balance; one that is as beautiful as it is fleeting.

So the next time you find yourself rooting for a love team, remember: even MVPs need time to play for themselves. After all, kilig isn’t just about what we see on screen; it’s about how we learn to cherish the connections, real or imagined—that shape our lives.

Author: Ava Julia Daquial