(First of two parts)
At the onset of this most oppressive of summers, I had the opportunity and privilege to meet and reunite with some of the most acclaimed actresses in the history of Philippine cinema.
This was during an awards presentation called Gawad Parangal sa mga Ginintuang Bituin ng Pelikulang Pilipino staged at the auditorium of La Consolacion College along Mendiola St. in Manila. The event was Nick Lizaso’s brainchild. A respected director for TV and the movies, Nick now also teaches in this pre-war educational institution that had since turned coed (it used to be an all-girls convent school).
In consultation with Danny Dolor (who runs the Sunday Remember When? column in this paper), this awards presentation was conceived to honor the finest and greatest actresses in local films from the ‘30s to the ‘50s. This was no easy feat considering the fact that most of the honorees were either abroad or were busy with their individual lives. As I pointed out in one of my spiels, “these women are so busy — mahihiya ang schedule ni Judy Ann Santos.” (Juday was supposed to be my co-host, except that when the program started, she had to leave to attend to an emergency at home.)
Below, allow me to share with you my personal encounters with the honorees present on that rare occasion (it’s difficult to bring them together) — an experience I will treasure in my heart forever:
Delia Razon — The box-office queen of the early ‘50s, she is now known as the grandmother of Rosalinda — Carla Abellana, but who else? Tita Delia (Lucy May Gritz-Reyes in real life) had always been the same charming and gregarious lady I had known since the ‘90s. Although she is the livewire of any gathering, she always remains poised and collected even at the most informal of occasions. Well, that was a formal affair and she saw to it that she was properly attired in her long aqua dress that day.
She may not know it, but the members of the Manunuri ng Pelikulang Pilipino learned an important lesson from her on how to deal with the senior members of the industry. One time, we gave a Natatanging Gawad Urian to a retired lady director. She was very happy to get the award, except that she had a problem getting to the CCP where the ceremonies were held. She lived in Montalban and so we had to get a limousine service for her and thought that was enough. Watching the proceedings on TV, Delia Razon almost screamed from her couch at home when she saw the beloved director sporting what Ronald Constantino thought (that was what he later told me) was a bathroom robe. Tita Delia told me off and from then on, we checked all the needs of the honoree prior to the awards night. Embarrassing situations like that had always been avoided since then.
Thank you, Tita Delia. We learned from that mistake and as you accepted your own award that day in La Consolacion, my heart was still overflowing with gratitude because of that advice you gave us many, many years ago.
At the end of the awards ceremony and reception, I escorted her to her car and before we parted ways, she told me: “Take care of Carla.” I will, Tita Delia — I always have since Carla became a Kapuso. I’ll always be fond of her the way I’ve always been fond of you.
Caridad Sanchez — Now still very active in soaps where she is cast mostly as a grandmother, today’s generation probably has no idea that she was LVN Pictures’ resident seductress in the late ‘50s. She oozed with sex appeal then — and is still very shapely now. In 1993, I conducted a survey on the sexiest actresses in the movies and she came in No. 2 — next to Nanette Medved, who was the hottest body that time. Tita Caring is still fit (she jogs up to now) and one day I intend to engage her in a running contest.
The truth is, she brings out the best in me. In 2008, I lost my cool dealing with a real estate agent and she scolded me (from head to toe) for making my short fuse get the better of me. I’ve been more patient since.
That day of the awarding, when I was about to introducer her, she hollered from her seat: “Galingan mo ang intro ko, ha!” That proved to be quite a pressure for me because that part of the script was tailor-made for Judy Ann and she had rushed home to check on child Johann and brought the spiels with her. I had nothing in my hands, but I went ahead and delivered not only Tita Caring’s portion, but all the way till the end. That’s the way Caridad Sanchez had always been with me: She poses challenges and expects me to deliver. And I know that had always been for my own good. Thank you, Tita Caring for always believing in my capabilities and I will try not to fail you and live up to your expectations.
Fely Vallejo — The press called her “the diminutive beauty with the golden voice.”
An alumna of the UP Conservatory, she appeared as a bit player in the 1937 film Huling Awit, but became a full-fledged star two years later in Dalisay. Later, she also starred in Ay, Kalisud, which was exhibited in Malaysia and Hawaii. After the war, she was directed by her own husband, the late National Artist Gerry de Leon, in So Long, America and in Isumpa Mo, Giliw. Ms. Vallejo didn’t really do a lot of films, but it should be noted that the few movies she did were box-office hits.
That afternoon was the first time I saw Fely Vallejo in person. She was frail and wheelchair-bound. Her loved ones, however, obviously take good care of her. In fact, since she couldn’t mount the stage anymore, it was grandson Janno Gibbs who spoke on her behalf. ”Nakakalakad pa naman po ang lola ko. Suplada lang siya talaga,” Janno said in jest. That still keeps me in stitches — just recalling how Janno delivered that line. But that was so sweet and thoughtful of him — skipping his busy showbiz schedule to be with his grandmother on this special day.
(To be concluded)