By Butch Francisco
Manunuri ng Pelikulang
Pilipino (MPP)
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Although her magnificent voice initially served
as her big ticket to superstardom, it was her performances in the movies that
enshrined Nora Aunor as the biggest female iconic figure in Philippine show
business.
Films have always been a part of her life –
first as a young movie fan who watched Vilma Santos’ Trudis Liit five times at
the flea-infested Allan Theater in her hometown of Iriga. “I have always been
Vilma’s fan,” she says of the actress-turned-politician, who had been her
archrival in showbiz for close to half a century.
When – at age 12 – she moved to Manila in search
of her big break, possibly as a singer on radio, it was in her agenda to see in
person and hopefully get the autograph of Vilma, who by then had become her
girl crush. She got this chance when she auditioned in the radio show of Ike
Lozada and German Moreno and to her delight found out that Vilma was among the
featured guests in the program. That could have been the happiest day of her life,
except that Moreno, who later would become her biggest showbiz drumbeater,
chose another aspiring singer over her.
There had been other rejections prior to that.
That had been one of the better days, in fact. At least, she was admitted to
the studio – at MBC on Taft Avenue. Once, she fell into a manhole after she was
accidentally pushed away by an overzealous guard in charge of crowd control.
Her 1967 Tawag ng Tanghalan win changed all
that. All of a sudden, she had showbiz offers, including the chance to be part
of the Araneta Coliseum concert of Timi Yuro, who had wanted to adopt her and
bring her to the United States – an option Nora seriously considered.
In the movies, it was the legendary
star-builder, Dr. Jose Perez of Sampaguita Pictures, who first gambled on her.
Sampaguita signed her up to a four-year contract, which, according to Nora,
stipulated that “by her fourth film, she would be elevated to lead star
status.”
The terms of her contract were unimaginable at
that time. Although she had beautiful expressive eyes and the perfect Asian
nose, she was dark and at 14 wasn’t likely to shoot up beyond 5 feet. Only the
year before, Rosemarie Sonora and Gina Pareño, gorgeous mestizas both, were
launched by Sampaguita as part of the studio’s much-heralded Stars of ’66.
Sampaguita had to test the waters with her
first. In All Over the World, Nora was merely asked to sing in one sequence.
She was even surprised when she was required by the studio to be at the lobby
of Life Theater on opening day. Dwarfed by her taller and fairer co-stars, she
retreated to one corner and was hardly recognized by movie fans. However, when
the movie got to the part where she sings, she heard clapping from a visibly
pleased audience. For her initial film, Nora got paid P200.
Her talent fee was upped to P400 in her next
film project, Sitting in the Park, which starred mostly members of Stars’ 66.
Then came Pogi and Ang Pangarap Ko’y Ikaw. Somewhere along the way, she got
teamed up with Tirso Cruz III – a tandem that instantly built a solid fan base.
Nora undeniably became popular not only with the
masses, but also with a curious A-B crowd wondering how a dark, diminutive girl
could possess such singing talent and charisma.
In the eyes of producers, she was a gold mine,
who could carry a film by herself and earn big bucks at the box-office. But
then, she legally belonged to Sampaguita, which decided to stick to its
tradition of carefully molding its contract stars first until they’ve reached
their full potential.
She wasn’t even halfway done with her commitment
with Dr. Perez when Artemio Marquez, who had directed some of her films for
Sampaguita, saw a loophole in her contract. “Dapat daw kasi bida na ako in my
fourth film, which didn’t happen,” recalls Nora of this episode early in her
career.
Since Nora was still a minor, it was her Aunt
Belen who signed the Sampaguita contract on her behalf. What Marquez did was to
seek out her biological mother, Antonia, to get a legal consent that enabled
him to produce under his own Tower Productions Nora’s first solo picture,
Musical Teenage Idol that true enough became a blockbuster hit – done on a
shoestring budget. Her take-home pay was P15,000, a huge part of it spent
treating out classmates at the Centro Escolar in Parañaque, where she later
collected her high school diploma. (It was also in this school where friends
started calling her Guy, a nickname she formulated for herself with the help of
her tough girl gang-mates.)
Nora didn’t have much time to enjoy her
box-office success because her camp had been sued by Sampaguita for breach of
contract. The case went on for years and eventually was decided in favor of
Sampaguita by the Court of First Instance, under Judge Ulpiano Sarmiento in
1974. The ruling allowed Sampaguita to garnish P1.3-M of Nora’s existing
properties. To show that they were only fighting for principles, the Vera-Perez
family didn’t even bother to go that length. “Basta pinatawad na lang ako ni
Manay Ichu,” Nora claims, referring to the long talk she had with Dr. Perez’
eldest child Marichu Maceda after the case was settled.
Nora didn’t sever ties with Sampaguita and its
sister company VP Pictures even at the height of their legal battle. Since the
litigation process took long, she was allowed to make movies both for
Sampaguita and Tower.
For Sampaguita, she did Guy & Pip, Always in
My Heart, Nasaan Ka, Inay and My Blue Hawaii, all of which were blockbusters.
Mrs. Maceda saw for herself how the actress was regarded practically as an
object of idolatry (“like a religious image in church”) by her followers. She
remembers how Nora would descend the famed Vera-Perez staircase – to be met
below by adoring fans who knelt down to kiss the hemline of her long gown. “She
was THAT popular,” shares Mrs. Maceda.
Over at Tower Productions, she was given a new
leading man – the dashing Manny de Leon, who lost no time winning her heart.
Although she still cared very much for Tirso Cruz III, her first and true love,
Nora decided to get into a romantic relationship with De Leon after she felt
the pressure from family members who all favored the new suitor – “maybe
because of the gifts of perfume and liquor he gave them,” she now laughs.
Oh, but it was a stormy affair they had – “kasi
ang dami niyang ibang babae.” Once, she bought a small pistol that gun
collectors refer to as señorita and this she actually fired at him, except that
the shot was a dud and the bullet just flew off and mercifully missed the target.
Their arguments got so tiresome to the point
that an exasperated De Leon had to tell Nora to her face – “na hindi naman kita
gusto at kaya lang kita niligawan kasi pinilit nila ako.” Yes, even in
Hollywood, as depicted in The French Lieutenant’s Woman, the lead performers in
romance films are encouraged to fall in love with each other for a more
realistic registry onscreen. And here in Philippine setting – in the hope of
better results at the box-office.
In Nora’s case and by her own admission, it helps
that she is in love with her co-star on the set. Manny de Leon’s blunt
confession that he didn’t love her left Nora emotionally devastated. Her ego
was bruised and her pride badly wounded. Even her body ached from too much work
and begged to rest.
She often noticed that at least three of her
films would show simultaneously in different theaters. In 1970, Tomboy Nora
opened on July 5. Two weeks later, on July 18, Hey There, Lonely Girl was
shown, followed by I Dream of Nora 10 days after on July 28.
By her own calculation, she was being tasked to
finish a film project in two and a half days, putting to shame the speed in
which pito-pito movies were made in the late ‘90s by Regal Films.
The work setup was made convenient for her. She
was put in an apartment in Natib St. in Cubao. Artemio Marquez lived nearby and
Nora only had to cross the street to get to the producer-director’s house where
practically all the films were shot.
There weren’t too many dialogues to memorize and
deliver. Mostly, she was made to sing for the benefit of the camera songs from
her album, which now entitles her to claim that she was ahead of the MTV era.
“No wonder I was being made to do a recording every week (for Alpha Records)
even if I was sick!”
She hardly slept in those days. And when she
did, she would wake up to the nagging question: “Am I being made to do three
films for the price of one?”
When she shot on location in her native Iriga
one time, she remembers wrapping up work and saying goodbye to her co-stars –
only to be roused from her sleep the following morning to find Ricky Belmonte
waiting as her new leading man. Was he there for another movie project she
didn’t know about?
Later that day, a train with three coaches was
hired by production to be used as movie backdrop. During a lull in the shoot,
Nora made known to everyone her desire to learn how to run a train. One of the
engineers gladly volunteered to teach her – which was easy since she always had
a knack for technology and mechanics.
Toward the end of the lessons, she was allowed
to run the train for a few meters from the Iriga station. But to the horror of
the train engineer, Nora just went on and on until they reached Sipocot, some
six towns away. There was no way she was returning to the movie set and that
was her chance to escape. After getting off the train, she and her assistant
Dory boarded a Manila-bound bus where she was hardly noticed by her
co-passengers under the cover of darkness.
Of course, Nora got it again from the press. By
then she had gotten used to everyone calling her “indyanera” or no show. While
she pled guilty to some of the accusations against her, she insisted that she
wasn’t at fault all the time. “If ever I was late, that was done on purpose,”
she says with conviction. “For instance, I don’t like it when the producer
mistreats the crew.” She displayed her disapproval by showing up half a day
late – like if the call time was 8 a.m. she would show up at 8 p.m. She
wouldn’t work either if the producer who had earned her ire was on the set.
One time, a producer castigated the crew for
engaging in a card game, “pusoy” – never mind if it was done during a break.
The producer banned outright playing cards on the set. The next day, Nora
brought her own mah-jong set and yes, several decks of playing cards.
In the early ‘70s, Nora also tried her hand at
producing her own films under NV Productions – “because I wasn’t happy anymore
with most of the offers coming my way.” Her first project was Carmela, which
proved to be a relatively light experience for her since Sampaguita – even if
they were in the middle of a legal tussle - assisted her, from the lending of
equipment all the way to the movie’s theatrical release.
Most difficult was the epic project Banaue that
in the end cost P3-M to produce. Although it was a huge hit, she never got to
enjoy a centavo of its earnings because the entire profit was used to pay off
debts incurred while doing the film.
No, she doesn’t regret producing Banaue – if
only for the fact that it gave her the opportunity to work more lengthily with
the future National Artist Gerardo De Leon. She was earlier directed by the
film great in an episode of Fe, Esperanza, Caridad, a Premiere Productions
project that also gave her the chance to work with another future National
Artist Lamberto Avellana (in the Esperanza episode).
And what did she learn working with the two
masters? “I learned to behave on the set,” she says with a hearty laughter.
Although Fe ... proved to be a demanding role, Nora was still on her quest to find
the right parts that would satisfy her thirst for artistry and eventual
recognition as an actress.
Maybe unknown to her, she had already been
noticed by eventually became the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino. Manunuri
founding member Behn Cervantes may not have completely appreciated the comedy
that was Batu-Bato sa Langit, but he still called Nora “a fine actress” in his
Daily Express 1975 review.
The critics’ support must have inspired her to
continue sharpening her acting skills further. Nora began experimenting in
Lupita Concio’s Minsa’y Isang Gamu-gamo. She refused to read the script in its
entirety and instead focused merely on the scene that was to be shot, while at
the same time inquiring about what happened in the sequences before and after
that. “I wanted to feel the moment without being burdened by scenes other than
that.” With regard to the use of those famous dark, expressive eyes, she claims
that “it just came along while I was in the process of improving my craft,
without anyone in particular teaching her how to do it.”
For her performance in Minsa’y, another Manunuri
founding member, Dr. Nicanor Tiongson, wrote in his Daily Express review in
1976: “Once again, Nora Aunor proves herself to be one of the finest actresses
today, with an acting style that is both ‘raw’ and ‘fine,’ characterized by a
disarming sincerity and force that can break into an unbelievable number of
nuances, shades and colors of emotion.”
It was in Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos where she
was officially recognized as the toast of the critics – having been crowned as
the first ever best actress winner in the annual Gawad Urian. “I was so happy
that I didn’t sleep for two days.” She just kept clutching the trophy around
the house and did nothing else.
Nora won six more Urian best actress honors:
Bona (1980), Bilangin ang Bituin sa Langit (1989), Andrea, Paano Ba Maging
Isang Ina? (1990), The Flor Contemplacion Story (1995), Bakit May Kahapon Pa?
(1996) and Thy Womb (2012).
She did Thy Womb because she got curious about
indie movies during the period she was in the US. When she came back in 2011,
she began inquiring about directors doing in indie films. The late showbiz writer
William Reyes recommended Adolf Alix and Brillante Mendoza, who promptly paid
her a visit during a shoot of her TV 5 soap.
She almost didn’t finish doing Thy Womb because
she felt nothing was happening while working on the film.
“Walang mabigat na eksena – puro laot lang,” she
recalls. Even co-star Bembol Roco felt the same. There was a script, all right,
but Mendoza wouldn’t show it – “para daw natural ang acting.” She only stayed
on because her manager and confidante Boy Palma kept watching the monitor and
assured Nora that “they were doing something beautiful and different.” Although
devoid of heavy dramatic confrontations, her performance in Thy Womb is one of
the finest in her career.
Nora is now having the time of her life doing
indie movies – “if only for the artistic freedom and wide choice of roles it
offers,” she points out. She easily adapted to the different working style in
indies because Nora is one of the few movie queens who was never afraid of
changes.
In fact, much early on, she busted the myth that
only Grecian goddess-like actresses could play lead roles on the big screen.
She also dissolved the prejudice against the
bakya crowd – so-called because in the ‘60s market vendors trooped to movie
houses to watch Tagalog features in their wooden clogs. Her almost unequalled
talent, charisma and all-encompassing appeal became the great equalizer – with
the elite beginning to appreciate Nora Aunor films (once patronized only by the
masses), particularly those done in collaboration with top directors.
Of course, in the ‘70s, from bakya, she was
called “baduy” (poor taste), but that was only for a while and she eventually
surpassed that phase of her career. Today, a Nora Aunor film is always
associated with prestige.
It helped that she had the power to choose film
projects and directors and used her clout to come up with some of the best
Filipino movies of all time. After the ‘50s golden age, it is said that 1976
and 1982 were the golden years of Philippine movies. In 1976, Nora had Minsa’y Isang
Gamu-Gamo and Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos and in 1982, she starred in the epic
Himala.
Truly, Nora Aunor played an important role in
changing – for the better - the taste of the Filipino moviegoer.
This year, she is the recipient of the
Manunuri’s highest honor – the Natatanging Gawad Urian. She joins the ranks of
previous winners, some of whom have since been named National Artists. For some
reason, maybe political, such honor was denied her.
She richly deserves to be named National Artist
for all her contributions to the local film industry. And yes, if only as a
reward for her efforts in helping Filipino moviegoers gain a more critical view
and better appreciation for true quality films.
