Kilig me softly
Kilig. That flutter in your heart, that smile that’s so wide it aches. It’s that jolt of excitement when a couple exchanges a meaningful glance on-screen or a book character says the perfect line at the perfect moment. Kilig is a whole vibe—a very Filipino one—that transcends language and borders, capturing a giddy whirlwind of emotions.
For Gen Xers, moments of kilig were rare gems, found on TV or in VHS tapes, not binge-streamed. Love stories then were fewer, but the kilig was just as we understand it today—like the iconic boombox scene in Say Anything, where Lloyd (played by John Cusack) stands outside the window of Diane (Ione Skye), holding a boombox over his head, blasting Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes. Pulling off a stunt like that today could make a stalker out of a wooer. At the turn of the millennium, John was able to redeem himself in Serendipity with Kate Beckinsale (who knew the future Death Dealer in Underworld could elicit kilig moments?)
Based on my own observations, real-life kilig is often found in the quiet, small gestures: remembering a favorite detail or showing up after time apart.
Kilig hits somewhat differently in Asia. The subtle hand-holding, the accidental skinship, the stare—you know, that intense gaze between two characters that seems to last a lifetime? Western cinema might give you kisses in the rain or even sex in the first 10 minutes of playtime; K-dramas give you a half season of longing stares and innuendo before anyone even holds hands or touches lips—and I mean literally just touch, like kissing one’s grandma.
For many individuals, kilig is intimately tied to their first experiences of romance through film and television. An informal survey of Filipino viewers, from our generation to the next, reveals a rich tapestry of shows and movies that evoke this sense of thrill. Unsurprisingly, slow-burn romances and intense emotional arcs that define most Asian productions feature prominently on people’s kilig lists. My wife, for example, favors Coffee Prince, Rookie Historian Goo Hae-ryung and Run On—all K-dramas celebrated for their complex characters and deeply touching romances. I enjoyed watching them with her, as well as my personal bias that is Romance is a Bonus Book.
‘Kilig’ is that unforgettable mix of hope, excitement, and gentle romance that everyone understands.
Chinese shows like Hidden Love and Put Your Head on My Shoulder also have a good following, while Hollywood has its own share of the kilig pie: the “Before” trilogy starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy has become a cult favorite among those enamored with relatable dialogue, even if the final installment is somewhat of a let-down. Films like When Harry Met Sally and Pride and Prejudice exemplify stories grounded in misunderstandings, growing respect and longing gazes that build up to peak kilig.
But kilig doesn’t always require romance at its core. Some viewers find it in shows like Anne with an E, where character growth and resilience make the heart flutter as much as any love story. Evidently, this kind of kilig is not tied solely to romance; it’s about watching characters rise above challenges with hope and possibility.
Interestingly, kilig also transcends gender norms, even in a society where men are often encouraged to be emotionally restrained. Yes, even in our macho Pinoy culture, where men might be pressured to suppress their softer side, kilig can often resonate even more intensely, particularly when society rarely gives them an outlet to express it. Descendants of the Sun, where the tension between a soldier and a doctor transforms into love, is a show that reaches deep into this feeling and is popular with men as it is with women. A Discovery of Witches lets men peek into the forbidden love between a vampire and a witch, while Amélie and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind appeal to a limited audience that enjoys a dash of humor with quirky lines.
For others, kilig is about nostalgia and personal memories. Some recall their own high school romances while watching A Walk to Remember, remembering the rush of first love as they see Landon Carter’s touching gestures for Jamie Sullivan on screen. A return to cherished memories is as good as kilig gets.
Yet, not everyone feels kilig so easily. For some, it is situational, whether a story resonates with their own experiences or ideals. It’s also highly personal, growing from memories, dreams and individual preferences, not from a universal template. Others might feel it vicariously, smiling as friends blush over crushes or getting excited over fictional love stories even if they don’t seek the same experiences for themselves.
Recurring favorites among younger viewers, like Lovely Runner, Crash Landing on You, and Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha, and even the hugely popular 10-season Friends, illustrate how kilig manifests in modern times by giving fans moments marked by that tension between what is real and what they hope might be.
So, what really is kilig? We’ve already established that it’s something sweet and romantic, a sensation that makes people giggle, gasp and cover their faces—like in those scenes where the leads share a single pair of headphones. It’s almost comical, because what they’re really sharing is more than music (a bit of earwax as demonstration of true love, anyone?), but kilig lives for moments like these.
The truth is, kilig is complex, and everyone feels it differently. Some might say it’s akin to titillation, but it’s tamer, less steamy than Bridgerton. Sometimes it’s sparked by a shy glance or a seemingly insignificant gesture of thoughtfulness. And yet, not everyone feels it—even though the world often expects kilig to be exclusive to women.
If a girl isn’t feeling kilig, does that make her icy, uninterested, or “anti-romance”? Hardly! In fact, people who aren’t prone to kilig may not feel like they’re missing anything. Perhaps they feel it vicariously for others, like watching a friend blush over a crush. Kilig is never mandatory, and not everyone is wired to feel it just because the music swells or the leads finally kiss.
Across generations, kilig has found its way into favorite classics and cult hits alike. Older viewers may find this in the nostalgic longing of The Bridges of Madison County or the witty back-and-forth of Something’s Gotta Give. For others, the thrill lies in the bittersweet endings of Nicholas Sparks adaptations like The Notebook, which add a hint of tragedy to the romance.
Then, of course, there are the quintessential “princess” stories that take cues from the Disney formula—a Cinderella moment that lets the ordinary become extraordinary and lifts up even the cynics.
Could kilig be generated by non-visual cues, like music? For sure, music is a powerful narrative tool, and in some cases, the soundtrack almost overshadows the love story itself. Consider The Bodyguard and the unforgettable I Will Always Love You, or Titanic, whose theme, My Heart Will Go On, is as legendary as the iceberg that sealed the movie’s bittersweet end. Titanic didn’t quite give me that kilig feeling, more like stimulating (who can forget that car scene?) and hemorrhoid-inducing at an over three-hour runtime.
In the end, kilig is that unforgettable mix of hope, excitement, and gentle romance that everyone understands—even if they experience it differently. And if all this talk of kilig has you smiling, blushing, or maybe even covering your face, that’s kilig for you—playing the heart like a love song, again and again.