With the success of its precursor, Bar Boys: After School bore the heavy weight of franchise expectations from its devoted audience. Released eight years after the original film, the comedy-drama sequel—directed by Kip Oebanda and an official entry in the 2025 Metro Manila Film Festival—returns to the same world shaped by choices, ambitions, and priorities.
The original cast reunites with Carlo Aquino as Atty. Erik Vicencio, Rocco Nacino as Atty. Torran Garcia, Enzo Pineda as Atty. Christian Carlson, Kean Cipriano as Joshua Zuniga, and Odette Khan as Justice Hernandez. They are joined by a new roster of characters, including Will Ashley as Arvin Asuncion, Sassa Gurl as Trisha Perez, and Therese Malvar as CJ David. The film also features Benedix Ramos and Sheila Francisco, nodding to its theater adaptation.
Rich in intention, Bar Boys: After School introduces a breadth of narratives that honor the past, all the while resonating with the present. It explores the effects of time on people and relationships—not merely its passage, but its absence, misallocation, and quiet erosion of ideals. The film unearths the unspoken cost of ambition and how individuals navigate systems shaped by previous generations. Yet what ultimately defines the viewing experience is not a lack of compelling ideas, but an excess of them—ambition that fuels the film’s emotional reach while simultaneously exposing its structural limitations.
The case still holds
The movie’s most immediate challenge lies in its attempt to juggle the conflicts of both the original quartet and an entirely new cohort without fully committing to either. With a two-hour runtime and a multitude of arcs, the persistent feeling that too much is happening permeates the narrative, leaving little room for the conflicts to deepen their impact. As a result, the film struggles to establish a stable center from which its themes and tensions can meaningfully unfold.
Still, it successfully conveys a strong sense of frustration and hopelessness among viewers, particularly through Atty. Vicencio’s case. As the dispute drags on, the same exhaustion seeps through the screen, reflecting the bureaucratic obstacles and systemic delays familiar to many ordinary Filipinos. A memorable detail is the courthouse’s leaking air conditioner, which forced their meetings with the opposing panel outdoors with nothing but an electric fan to cool them down in the heat. The scene, simply but potently, mirrors the draining, repetitive, and unforgiving reality of the justice system.
At the same time, Bar Boys: After School remains very much a comedy, punctuated by humorous moments throughout. The tarpaulin scene is a playful callback to an iconic joke from the original film, while the Y2K notebook merchandise offers a clever nod to 2000s Filipino pop culture. Joshua’s unexpected chemistry with Mae, played by Klarisse de Guzman, unfailingly draws laughter and kilig, perfectly offsetting the film’s heavier themes and reinforcing itself as a comedy-drama.
Damages incurred and paid
Carrying fresh narratives, the new generation of law students—Arvin, CJ, and Trisha—represent individuals caught in the same spectacle, mirroring the country’s social issues as they answer the recurring question, “Why do you want to be a lawyer?” But due to the sheer number of characters, the film struggled to fully dissect their individual origins and motivations.
Among them, only Arvin stands out most clearly. Will Ashley delivers a remarkable emotional performance, lauded for its sincerity and relatability as he portrays a working student struggling to make ends meet. Audiences also enjoyed his unexpected chemistry with Emilio Daez’s Ziggy, noting that even with limited screentime, their dynamic oozed with tension they wished was explored further.
Beyond the unresolved queer pairing, Sassa Gurl depicted Trisha effortlessly, empowering LGBTQ+, particularly transgender students, to rise above stereotypes. Meanwhile, award-winning actress Therese Malvar delivers an optimistic portrayal of CJ David, inspiring students from far-flung areas to dream beyond geographical and socioeconomic limits.
Even the original cast faces distinct conflicts. While we are shown a glimpse into the current lives of Atty. Garcia, Atty. Carlson, and Josh, their struggles are resolved rather quickly. In contrast, the supposed main conflict—Atty. Vicencio’s labor union case—allows for deeper character development. Carlo Aquino’s natural approach to acting viscerally renders his descent into all sorts of guilt, despair, and hopelessness as he endures the battle for the union’s rights.
Although Odette Khan’s commanding performance as Justice Hernandez won her the Best Supporting Actress Award during the MMFF 2025 Gabi ng Parangal, much of her dialogue feels written to be quoted rather than spoken, occasionally veering into unnatural preachiness.
Still, the film succeeds in capturing the realities of both law students and practitioners, an essential aspect that emphasizes the emotional and systemic challenges that come with the career.
Justice is served
Bar Boys: After School’s core conflict centers around a bold depiction of the unfair treatment of workers by a private firm, framed through Atty. Vicencio’s pro-bono case. The workers, deprived of their wages and rights, pay Atty. Vicencio with eggplant and peanuts, in exchange for their representation against the notorious Atty. Rhodina Banal, whose stark portrayal by Sheila Francisco exhibits how the Philippine justice system favors the rich and powerful. The dispute comes to a head when she tells Atty. Vicencio, “Hindi ako ang gumawa ng sistemang ito,” emphasizing the entrenched unfairness within the legal system that transcends individual morality.
(I did not create this system.)
Following the input of several resource persons, Atty. Vicencio’s profound journey won the hearts of many non-profit and pro-bono lawyers, who noted that the movie carefully balanced tragedy with hopeful realism. In the same vein, Arvin’s character parallels Will Ashley’s personal narrative as a working student and breadwinner. This earned admiration from viewers who resonated with Arvin’s poignant line: “I could have been more, if I just had more.”
Kip Oebanda’s Bar Boys: After School is both a grim reality check and a rallying wake-up call against the perils of the country’s justice system. Despite its narrative excesses, the film closes with a warm embrace for students and practitioners alike, assuring them that their tireless public service is recognized, no matter how invisible it may seem. As Justice Hernandez reminds, “History will not remember us, but history will not happen without us.”
