“Does this Filipino Woman Speak Tagalog?” asked the White Man

I want to start this off by saying I know that this is a pretty small thing to be so emotionally invested in. But hey, it wouldn’t be the beginning of Virgo season if we didn’t overanalyze the things we love and bring us joy.

And Lucifer, ultimately, does.

I have been a huge fan of Fox’s — now Netflix’s — Lucifer for a very long time. Big, big fan of Tom Ellis himself. I enjoy the lore, the characters, the wit, the psychological and philosophical narrative routes it often takes to explore a modern-day Lucifer Morningstar. And all that glorious Deckerstar content. I still enjoy it.

However, I am also a native Filipino woman. I understand the joy that my people and I feel when we hear our favourite characters in our favourite internationally-acclaimed shows speak our language on global stages. It doesn’t even matter if it was spoken by a minor character or even if it’s just a little mention of the Philippines on a pamphlet that appears for a split second. We would be so happy and we are. Often, it even makes national news. It makes us feel seen, I’m guessing, and it can feel like we’re being elevated to a global audience, somehow. We’re a small country that’s big on pride; we find anything to be proud of — and we are loud about it.

It should feel like a love letter… like these writers and performers are reaching out to us, telling us that they see us and our support and our very loud love. So, when Lucifer Morningstar himself spoke Filipino in the show’s recent fifth season, I found myself exceedingly surprised by my own deep, deep disappointment.

Screenshot taken from Lucifer S05E07. Lucifer Morningstar supposedly speaking Tagalog. But is he, though?

Omnilingual Lucifer and the Problem with Misspeaking Filipino

Lucifer Morningstar is a character who is written to be omnilingual. He is naturally fluent in every single spoken language known to mankind, though by his admission, that skill does not extend to being able to read in these languages. It’s part of the Lucifer-brand of charm; he has to be able to draw out desire, universally. In the same show, in the same fifth season, actor Tom Ellis wonderfully portrays Lucifer’s twin brother, Michael, who has a more US American accent as opposed to his natural British one. So, I assume that Mr Ellis is no stranger to accent work and the months of training necessary to masterfully learn it as he did.

It’s that assumption that makes me beg the question: where was that effort when it was time to speak two lines of my language correctly?

Now, I know what some of you might be thinking: Jonnah, maybe that was just his accent. But let me stop you right there. It wasn’t just his accent. I understand an accented way of speaking another language that isn’t your native tongue — and the surprise it warrants and the work it takes to get it right. I really, really do. Especially when I’m in a foreign country and I get approached by western people trying to flirt with me by saying “But you don’t sound Filipino” because they assume I should have an accent while, for the most part, I have a US American accent. However, while there’s a lot to unpack there, let’s not get distracted. My point is, I understand accents and how they affect outsider perceptions of who we are, which brings me back to the scene in question.

Allow me to break it down for you.

(In Lucifer 5x07, “Our Mojo”; season 5 spoilers ahead)

Lucifer and Chloe are in a flower shop manned by two Filipinos. The younger Filipino man is presumably a Filipino-American who grew up in the US. The older woman, who is described as his grandmother, is very clearly a native Filipino woman (like, you can hear it). The young man says that his grandmother “doesn’t really speak English” and does not like cops. Lucifer, upset that he has just lost his “mojo”, is called upon to speak with the woman as Chloe is trying to cheer him up and support him through this loss. The scene goes as follows.

Lucifer: Nagsasalisa [sic] ba siya ng Tagalog? (“Does she speak Tagalog?”)

Florist man: Oo, nagsasalita siya Tagalog [sic]. (Yes, she speaks Tagalog.) (Interesting side note but the Filipino sentence here isn’t even grammatically correct. The “ng” suffix is missing to connect “siya” and “Tagalog”. And this actor also pronounces the Filipino words with a US Americanised accent.)

Florist man: But fair warning, she doesn’t like cops.

Lucifer: Oh.

Florist man: She’s pretty mad that I called you guys.

Chloe: Well, also not a problem. My partner is not a cop.

Lucifer: No.

Chloe: He has many connections, he can grant favours, and obviously is very charming. He’s like my very own Swiss Army knife. [to Lucifer] Would you please go speak to the lady?

Lucifer: Well, after a buildup like that, how could I refuse?

Chloe: Thank you.

Lucifer [to the florist woman]: Kamusta ka, madam? (“How are you, madam?”)

As you can see, yes, this is absolutely a whole think piece/open letter type of situation because of two lines. In truth, I’m trying to explain more to myself why I feel this way… why it feels hurtful to hear my language like this.

Firstly, Tom Ellis’ delivery of “nagsasalita” that came out as “nagsasalisa” with a hard emphasis on the final syllable “sa”. “Nagsasalisa” is not a Filipino word. Like, I don’t even know what that is.

Secondly, the “kamusta” which Mr Ellis pronounced with a hard “oh” sound where there should be a “you” sound. To textually borrow the eternal, iconic delivery of Ms Emma Watson in that one movie, “it’s ‘ka-moose-tah ka’, not ‘ka-mos-tah ka’”.

Was it a typo in the script? Was it meant to just be a throwaway Filipino line that they assumed would go over most US Americans’ (and Filipinos’) heads just to drill in the fact that Lucifer is omnilingual? Did no one correct him or teach him how to say it? Did Mr Ellis not ask how it was spoken? I mean, there’s a native Filipino woman in the same scene. Did the writers or performers not ask her? I’m not even trying to be funny or sarcastic here; these are genuine questions. I desperately want to know why in the same show where this incredible actor can pull off two regionally different western accents was unable to say two lines in my language correctly.

This is a new feeling for me. I have never felt this before. But this isn’t anything new for hollywood or this particular show.

Accents and Asian Languages Spoken by Western Performers

This is not the first time Lucifer has had to speak an Asian language.

I’m Filipino and write from that perspective but this is clearly a recurring problem for not just my people. I hardly ever hear my language spoken in this context — where western people are written as presumably “fluent” in our language but then do this and be unable to pronounce basic words. But I can assume that a lot of native Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Arabic speakers (or native speakers of other languages not listed) have probably had to deal with situations like this a lot more than me.

In Season 2, Episode 10, Lucifer was conversing in Mandarin Chinese. Native speakers of the language have stated that the accents used on the show made the words barely understandable. One comment stated, “I live in China now and hear Mandarin every day. This is not how people speak and also the accent is so bad. To be fair, it is a hard language and the tones are really difficult to master unless you hear them all the time.”

Now, in direct contrast to that, actors in this day and age famously put in a significant amount of work to perfect regional accents. Tom Holland, for example, famously went undercover in a New York high school just to perfect his Brooklyn accent for his role as Peter Parker/Spider-Man. In “The Crown”, dialect coaches and fact-checkers are on set for authenticity when playing the British Royal Family.

I want to know why many actors can spend weeks or months in training to be able to speak convincingly in another Western accent and portray characters native from New York or Southern California or Boston or England or Ireland or France or whathaveyou… but learning to say two lines in a foreign language, in my language, correctly is, what? An afterthought? Too much work? What is it? Is it too hard? (It’s not.) Shouldn’t learning how to pronounce this minuscule and basic line, this foreign language that your character is meant to be flawlessly fluent with be something you put just as much effort and respect into?

There’s speaking with an accent, which I get, and then there’s just saying words wrong.

Lucifer Morningstar is omnilingual. It’s in his character bible. He has to be able to convincingly seduce desire through every language. It is, therefore, necessary for him to be able to fluently and convincingly speak every language. When he gets it wrong like this… I’m telling you right now if this man tried to speak to a native Filipino woman who didn’t understand a lick of English and he spoke to her in Filipino like that? Mojo-less or not, buddy, you are not drawing out desire; she would laugh in your face.

And to say it with such confidence! Good Dad Above, Lucifer is asking if this native Filipino woman can speak her own native language… while he, on the other hand, is saying it wrong. It boggles the mind, the audacity of that one line.

The Treatment of Filipino in a Broader, Real-Life Context

There are, of course, deeper reasons why this seemingly small thing has brought so many underlying emotions to the surface for me. The Filipino and Filipino as a language are not respected or held in high regard in modern-day, western, developed countries.

This is a time when Filipino, as a language, and Philippine Literature are no longer considered core subjects in tertiary education by decree of the Philippine Supreme Court. This is a time when English is considered one of the official languages of the Philippines due to colonization by US America, taken from Spanish rule, on Philippine soil between the years 1898 to 1946. But in the present day, educated and qualified native-born Filipinos (if they were educated in the Philippines) are still required to pay Php14,000 (nearly $300) to take IELTS exams with its validity expiring every two years (or other similar tests) in order to qualify when applying for jobs or college in developed, western countries.

Filipino deserves better than this.

We spend so much time, effort, and money to learn English. To speak, write, listen, and understand the language like them. I’m a native Filipino and Filipino is my native language, but when I speak and write in English, you wouldn’t be able to tell, and I credit that to my education and prolonged exposure to US American media. It’s what we’re trained to do. There is so much effort that is expected of us to get English right so that we can be considered to be on the same echelon of sophistication, capability, and intelligence with native English speakers. To be respected in our ability to speak this language, too.

But when it’s their turn to speak our language, are we supposed to be content with what? Just barely good enough? At least you tried?

This tiny thing from a show that I still absolutely love reminded me of all of those unfair double standards and microaggressions we, speakers of non-western languages of the world, face every day. I can tell and feel, however, that the lines were written with good, loving intentions. It was a shoutout to Filipino Lucifans because we are loud and supportive as hell (*ba dum tss*). I know it and I appreciate it so, so much.

I only wish it was said right.

I wish that if large-scale production companies and well-meaning creators are going to include us, my people, my language, or my culture into your globally available show or film… that you exert the bare minimum of effort and at least endeavour to get it right. Don’t we deserve that much, at the very least?

Stories have always been bigger than just something for passive consumption. Throwaway lines like this that are not given proper respect, in place of actual representation, feel like patronising pandering. Filipinos are global citizens in every aspect. We are everywhere and if we’re to be included in a story, no matter how small a part we play, we, our language, and our culture deserve to be seen, heard, and respected in a way that rings true.

If you, dear well-meaning artist, truly desire to include and elevate us, then we deserve the work it takes to get us right.

So ask us if it’s right. Consult with us. Hear us.

Let us be part of the conversation if we’re going to be part of the conversation.