The Tanduay Rum Diaries Part Two

THE TANDUAY RUM DIARIES #2: THE FIRST CHURCH OF FERNANDO POE JR

…in which your humble narrator, and Dani Palisa, his tattooed Sancho Panza, are on a Search For Weng Weng shoot in Manila, only to discover Christ in his Second Coming is to take the shape of their former King of Action Movies

[Previously published on the Video Zoo blog, September 2011]

Andrew: It’s January 2008, on the fourth trip to Manila for the yet-to-be-finished Search For Weng Weng documentary, and I take the text message summons from former SOS Daredevil, Sixties and Seventies action movie goon and Weng Weng’s co-star Steve Alcarado. I’d stumbled upon Steve quite by accident on my first shoot in November 2006 while he was drinking coffee with his fellow out-of-work goons at Quezon City’s Tropical Hut. I got to know Steve quite well; he’s a wily goon who’s constantly pitching me projects. One of my proudest souvenirs from The Trenches is a hand-painted poster for “Tomorrow Is Another Day” along with a two-page synopsis which features, among other action essentials, ninjas, samurais, exploding speedboats, and the Pinoy James Bond himself, Tony Ferrer, in the starring role of the debut from “Leavold Productions”. Ferrer is now well into his Seventies and has managed to elude my barrage of requests to interview him. And I’ve been persistent. After all, he did play Weng Weng’s boss in For Your Height Only, and his Agent Falcon’s trademark white suit had inspired Double O’s similar if somewhat shrunken attire.

Steve had cordially invited Dani and I to a company shindig, with the promise of meeting Tony Ferrer as bait. At the time Steve was one of several former goons working as sales representatives for an earthmoving company in Quezon City, its office inside a walled compound on the busiest stretch of EDSA an empty Tanduay bottle’s throw from the GMA-7 TV building. Several of the old SOS guys had netted sales this month and are being honoured with an all-you-can-drink cocktail party and roast pig barbecue at company HQ. Dani and I figure Agent Falcon is unlikely to make an appearance, but with the prospect of swimming through free booze with the old stunt guys, the SOS Daredevil has made an indecent proposal which was impossible to refuse.

At the appointed I leave Dani and Big Jim Gaines, a six-four, half-African American veteran of action movies, to park Jim’s SUV, and meet Steve Alcarado (“I’m the Lee Van Cleef of the Philippines!” he told me at our first meeting, his eyes appropriately narrowed to slits) outside GMA. As we approach the eight foot gates to the Waco-style compound, Steve says to me, with all the sincerity he can muster: “My boss wants to give you a book to take back to Australia. It’s religious…” He draws a breath “… but not very.”

I say nothing, ignoring all manner of warning bells and whistles. At this point, the “booze and goons” mantra has completely taken over.

In the belly of the Beast

Steve and I exit EDSA and walk through an eight foot gate into a carpark the size of a baseball field. HQ is on the left, an enormous man-made lake has taken over most of the right hand side, and a bamboo hut on stilts is perched over the grey-green water.

Outside the CEO’s office, I sit on a couch and begin to leaf through the company’s magazine placed strategically on the coffee table in front of me. On the cover is the smiling countenance of the Philippines’ greatest ever goon, Fernando Poe Jr (or FPJ), surrounded by a snapshot halo of the thirteen Filipino presidents including the current Gloria Arroyo. Underneath are the ominous words: “Divine Government of God.”

To put FPJ in perspective: until his death in 2004 following a failed bid at the presidency, he represented to his generations of fans a bizarre, mythic amalgam of John Wayne and the Infant of Prague. Roles in over 250 action films from the mid 50s cast him as a stoic champion of the poor, the downtrodden, the forgotten Pinoy Everyman. Without exception he’s an honourable man pushed to the brink by cartoonish screen villains, usually played by Max Alvarado or Paquito Diaz and their armies of SOS Daredevil goons, until he snaps and dispenses righteous justice with both fists or his trademark .45s and Magnum .357s. More than a few of the Philippines’ millions of Catholics are no doubt still holding their collective breaths on the Vatican approving FPJ’s sainthood.

On Page Ten is a story on how the Pope is the Antichrist, how Arroyo is the Satanic Pope’s emissary in the Philippines, and how Poland is the centre of apostasy – why I couldn’t fathom, other than the previous pope was born there, the evil fucker. Central to this bizarre cosmography is the belief that Arroyo had stolen the president’s chair at Malacanang Palace from FPJ during the 2003 elections, a notion proving more believable with each passing year of Arroyo’s rotten, corrupt, stinking-of-traded-horsemeat presidency.

Dani: After dropping Andrew off, me and Jim cruise around the seedy backstreets surrounding EDSA before being given the all-clear to park within the compound itself. Greeted by a guard with a semi-automatic rifle and a grin full of jackal-like, albeit rotten teeth, we’re escorted in. This place immediately strikes me as strange. Looking at a man-made pontoon shack in the middle of a man-made lake at the centre, while within the shack, people ran around furiously preparing a pig on a spit.

Dai and Steve Alcarado

As we got out of the car, Steve Alcarado leans out of the glass monolith opposite the man-made lake/pontoon and beckons us over. “Andrew is inside.”

We are led up a giant staircase to a sweaty, wide-eyed Andrew, about four shades paler than usual. As Steve scuttles off and heads downstairs, myself and Big Jim corner the terrified looking Andrew and ask him what’s wrong.

In a hushed tone, he eyeballs us and whispers urgently, “We’re in a cult!”

Big Jim furrows his brow. “What in Hell are you talking about?”

…this was the last thing I was expecting…

Andrew: I spit out the next few words in a ludicrous stage whisper with all the gravity I could muster. “We’re in the First Church of FPJ!”

Jim looks a little concerned. “Oh wow,” he finally says. “Dude, do you want me to bust us out of here?”

“No!” I hiss. “Let’s see how weird this gets!”

Jim leads us past the earthmoving equipment parked in a Panzer formation and over the bamboo drawbridge into the party hut. “Ok man, but I got us covered, ok?”

He then spies FPJ’s half-brother Conrad Poe sitting on the deck with a table full of SOS Daredevils cronies. I remember Conrad from our interview the previous year – a thick silver-backed gorilla of a guy, he’d unsuccessfully made the transition from goon in FPJ’s films to leading man in his own right. Still, he has a powerful presence onscreen and off, an aura of power emanating from his position in FPJ’s filmic Royal Family.

“Hey, it’s cool! Conrad’s here!” Jim announces.  He then hisses to Conrad, “You’re not the High Priest of this goddamned cockamamie FPJ cult, are you?”

“Nah!” says Conrad, dismissing him with a wave over an enormous two litre flagon of brandy. “It’s just business. The CEO’s given me [an undisclosed amount of] pesos to use my name.” He takes a swig from a tall glass of neat brandy. “I’m using the money to finance my next film!”

Conrad then eyeballs me and recognizes me from the interview last visit. “I need a white face to play an American soldier during the American-Filipino war. You interested?”

“Sure!” I offer, hoping to see the colour of another plane fare.

“But first…” He takes another bolt of brandy. “…We go to my place on the coast. THREE DAYS DRINKING!”

Seriously, it would have been rude – nay, DANGEROUS – to refuse. At Conrad’s table the brandy flowed freely; inside the hut, the roast pig was in the process of having its face removed with a meat cleaver. It’s a not-subtle reminder of how difficult it is to remain vegetarian in the Philippines. I remember trying to explain my dietary limitations to a crestfallen host. “Sorry, I can’t eat beef. No chicken, no fish.” With doe eyes that looked ready to burst into tears at any moment, they asked, “Not even pork?”

Dani: The initial thought of being strung up in the middle of the First Church of FPJ starts to ease off as the brandy flagons are poured down my throat. I guess they dodn’t notice “Lamarcadeldiablo” plastered across my chest.. .the last thing you want people to notice at these kinds of shindigs.

Then the Speech starts, and all of a sudden I begin to get the same feeling of impending doom creep back up as the tiny moustached messiah speaks and Jim begins to translate his rantings, and the words on my t-shirt are the least of my worries…

Andrew: “The Speech” is a forty minute sermon mainly in Tagalog, but we do recognize the words “Antichrist” and “Poland”. Suddenly Dani feels marked by his t-shirt, his Polish lineage and his Catholicism. We turn towards the lake to stop smirking; every now and then Dani actually feels for his people: first the Germans had screwed them, then the Russians, and now the Filipino fundamentalists. The SOS guys are enthralled. Is the CEO a messiah figure to them, or merely the guy whose paychecks keep them dancing like poodles on a hotplate? I’ll probably never know. But their reverential silence only amplifies the sounds of grins cracking across our incredulous faces.

Eventually the sermon grinds to a halt. There’s rapturous applause, and the CEO beams beatifically at his payrolled flock. “And now…” he waves his arm past Dani and I, “karaoke!”

"And now...karaoke!"

As if by magic, two young hostesses appeared from a changing room at the back of the hut, grabbed the microphones, fired up their infernal music machine, and started cranking out 100% Hits circa 1985, one after the other. The hired Bikini Goons of the Manila Karaoke Mafia really seem to have caught the CEO’s full attention, as he sits glued to a plastic lawn chair in front of them and slaps his thigh in appreciation at the end of each warble.

Dani and I looked at each other with dinner plate eyes. “We’re drunk and we’re locked in a compound with religious lunatics,” Dani points out with remarkable calm. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I read Dani’s mind loud and clear. “Let’s do it.”

As our tuneless whistling introduces Scorpions’ “Wind Of Change”, I jump on top of a plastic lawn chair, and Dani takes lead melody, long hair flying at tattoos on display. “Taaaaa-ake me, to the magic of the moment….” Power fists follow one another. “”…on a gloooo-ory night…” I venture a few windmills with my free arm and start my pelvis gyrating in the direction of the CEO seated less than three feet away. “….where the children of tomorrow dream away..” “Dream away!” “…on the Wind of Change..” “The fuckin’ Wind of Change!”

Brandy is a terrible drug, I should mention at this point, and karaoke etiquette deemed appropriate at RGs in the Valley on a Wednesday crawl may not pass muster at the First Church of FPJ. Shit. This could go horribly one way or the other. The CEO starts slapping his thigh again, and we’re not sure if this is a good thing, or if he’s allowing his circulation to improve before leading our death march up Calvary. Then as the tuneless whistling outro fades, a miracle happens: he screams “YES! There WILL be a wind of change!” He’s evidently decided we’re the two Albino Apostles who have blown off EDSA to carry the Word of FPJ back to the Antipodes. As the Bikini Mafia resume their Gloria Estefan quota, the CEO plies us with copies of his self published hardcover, The Sound Of The Seventh Trumpet. Having a quick flip past hand drawn pictures of Angels and the usual Book of Revelation stuff with his terrifyingly Pinoy slant, I fix him with a brandy clouded, pie-eyed stare. “We’ll take them,” I offer, “…but only if you autograph them.” “YES! YES!” He grabs a presentation pen. “To Andrew,” he scrawls, “GOD BLESS 1.25.08”.

Andrew with poster artist Manny

Dani: I feel left out, so I sheepishly ask if he’d sign mine also. “Of course!” he bellows, practically snatching the book out of my sweaty palms. “To…Dani…God Bless!” This was the seventh circle of weirdness, and we manage to escape unconverted, but more importantly, my Eastern Block ass didn’t get shot and left at the bottom of their man-made lake. The night gets lost in a Brandy fog, I’m sure there’s dancing and creative ways to avoid eating the pig I saw get its face chopped in half with a hatchet…all I remember is laughing our asses off all the way back to the relative safety of Metro Manila, signed propaganda in hand.

Andrew: Amen to that, Brother.

POSTSCRIPT: I learned several months too late that Conrad Poe passed away from a heart attack in mid-2010. We never did have that three day drinking session – and considering his heart condition it’s probably just as well – and his American-Filipino war film, with yours truly as White Goon #3, remains unmade.

Fortress In The Sun (1975)

1975 - Fortress In The Sun (Mirick Films International/Jowell Film Productions)

[Release date 24th April 1975]

Director/Story George Rowe Screenplay Humilde "Meek" Roxas Executive Producer Jesse G. Chua Cinematography Armando Dulag Music Emy Munji Theme Song Jun Polistico Editor Josepino Marcos 

Cast Nancy Kwan (Maria de Leon), Tony Ferrer (Tony), Fred Galang (Emilio), Eddie Garcia (Don Eduardo de Leon), Chanda Romero (Teresa), Logan Clarke (Rico), Ruel Vernal (Allan Lee), Mel Francisco (Torrente), Dave Raymundo, Johnny Vicar, Conrad Poe (Mario de Leon), Van Munoz, Roldan Rodrigo, Paquito Salcedo, Romy Nario

Mini-review by Andrew Leavold

Heiress Maria (a beautifully matured Nancy Kwan) returns from overseas to her family's hacienda at Tierra del Fuego, where their sugar plantation's workers have been forced to choose between two evils: the sadistic treatment of her father Don Eduardo (Eddie Garcia at his sneering, domineering best), or the bandit Torrente (Mel Francisco) and his scorched earth policy against the sugar baron. Into the hacienda come two strangers, the undercover cop Tony (former "James Bond of the Philippines" and karatista Tony Ferrer) who in the line of duty falls in love with the kind-hearted reformer Maria, and the mysterious kung fu expert Alan Lee (Ruel Vernal), worming his way as personal bodyguard into Don Eduardo's confidence. An action-drama with a social conscience, this competent Mirick Films export title directed by George Rowe - Ferrer's director on a number of 60s Agent X44 films - is punctuated with fistfights, kung fu brawls, and explosive combat scenes as the hacienda becomes a battlefield pitting boss against workers and sex-crazed bandidos, and a fantastic supporting cast - Fred Galang and Chanda Romero playing sibling worker activists, American actor Logan Clarke as Don Eduardo's equally sadistic henchman Rico, and Conrad (half-brother of FPJ) Poe as one of Don Eduardo's sons.

[Press booklet courtesy of Simon Santos at Video 48]

 

 

 

Raiders For Victory (1982)

1982 - Raiders For Victory (Kinavesa International)

[Philippines release date 14th January 1982; original title "Mga Hayop Sa Paraiso"]

Director Jun Gallardo Screenplay Humilde "Meek" Roxas Producer K.Y. Lim Cinematography Jun Rasca Music Totoy Nuke

Cast Liz Alindogan, Beth Bautista, Rez Cortez, Marissa del Mar, George Estregan, Rudy Fernandez, Philip Gamboa, Jose Garcia, Jess Lapid Jr, Lito Lapid, Carmi Martin, Conrad Poe, Renato Robles, Bembol Roco, Ruben Rustia, Phillip Salvador, Dante Varona, Ruel Vernal, Ken Watanabe

Fortress In The Sun (1975)

1975 - Fortress In The Sun (Mirick Films International)

[Philippines release date 24th April 1975]

Director George Rowe Writer Humilde Roxas Producer Jesse Chua Cinematography Armando Dulag Music Emy Munji

Cast Nancy Kwan (Maria), Tony Ferrer (Tony), Fred Galang (Landowner), Eddie Garcia, Chanda Romero, Logan Clarke, Mel Francisco, Dave Raymundo, Ruel Vernal, Johnny Vicar, Conrad Poe, Van Munoz, Roldan Rodrigo, Paquito Salcedo

Synopsis from the Internet Movie Database: Maria is an idealistic, independent-minded woman who returns to her father's hacienda in the Phillipines after a long stay in a US college. Her father is a cruel landowner, who beats and drives his workers to exhaustion. She defies her father by reaching out to the peasants, teaching their children, and caring for their sick. She falls for a handsome peasant, Tony. One day, Tony reveals he is an undercover lawman and leads the peasants to rebellion. In the midst of a gory fight, Maria must make a difficult choice between her father and the man she loves.

Violent Zone (1988)

1988 - Violent Zone (John Garwood Productions/Arista Films)

Director/Producer John Garwood Story/Screenplay John [A.] Bushelman, Daved Pritchard Executive Producer Louis George Associate Producers William Rowland, George Lorenzana, Dr Enrique Macapinlac Music Mark Josephson, Malcolm Cecil Cinematography Roger Estrada First Assistant Director “Joe”/Jose Dagumboy Editor Stephen Bushelman Script Supervisors Jim Kelly Durgin, Debbie Tennison Dialogue Supervisor Daved Pritchard 2nd Camera Operators Jess Eribe, Rey de Vera Assistant Cameraman Rodrigo Cabrales Gaffer Angel Ballares Key Grip Jose Cabrales Grips Manolo Rivera, Eduardo Macrohon, Alex Montemayor, Ariel Cabrales Sound Mixer Alejandro Cabrales Mike Man Alfredo Limcuando Electrician Teodorico Rivera Jr Unit Driver/Generator Man Antonio Cruz Stillman Ely Balmeo 2nd Assistant Director Nelson Perez Sia Assistants To Producer Winnie Bronilla, Celso Bronilla Art Director Pete Manansala Assistant Art Director Ed Del Barrio Set Decorators Rudy Palma, Namie Union, Ric Dinosa, Boy Fernandez, Zaldy Acordo Head Propman Malou Diaz Propman Tito Espinos Schedule Master Rene Gracilla Wardrobe Master Alex Argente Tailors Bernie Flores, Dante Garbo Assistant Wardrobe Edwin Alon Alon Make Up Rey Salamat Hair Stylist Rudy Villalon Special Effects Concordio Archay, Joseph Candido, Franco Cusipag, Gaspar Balbaboco Security Sgt Nanding Palleda, Toto Enopia, Nanding Fernandez Transportation Captain Al Tagata Head Driver Maning Opolento Drivers Butch Balmido, Romeo Madreo, Luding Romano, Larry Ebuenga, Freddie de Guzman Utility Men Gener Gonzales, Henry Martin Production Coordinators Jojie Pena, Bill Marva Accountant Rowena Teotuico Catering Marina Bernarte Sound Effects Editor Robert Glenn Negative Cutter Fred Tietsel Assistant Film Editors Elsa A. Abellana, Lucy Fungo, William Rowland

Cast John Jay Douglas (Steve Ryker), “Christopher Weeks”/Jack DeLeon (Charles Townsend), Chard Hayward (Norman McKloskey), Cynthia Killion (Linda Blomberg), Daved Pritchard (Rick O'Brien), Michael Myracle (Doris Del Deccio), Alphonse Walter (Clarence Hartwell), Willie Olmstead (Ronald Cranston), “Joonie”/Joonee Gamboa (Dak), Mark Parra (Young Steve Ryker), Rick Dano (Jack Ryker), Manolo Quequing (Young Mishima), Ken Watanabe (Old Mishima), Eric Hahn (Thompson), Conrad Poe (Pham), Tommy Romulo (Captain Naguro), Bert Cayanan (Bru), Florante Bernandino (Brek), Larry Agee (Chopper Pilot #1), William McDonald (Chopper Pilot #2), David Kater (U.S.M.C. Red Cross #1), Bobby Hughes (U.S.M.C. Red Cross #2), The Golden Doves, The Cats Stuntmen

Sabotage 2 (1979)

1979 - Sabotage 2 (Margarita Productions)

[Philippines release date 17th March 1979; released internationally via Liliw Films International as "Sabotage", in France as "Chantage a l'Apocalypse" and in Germany as "Geheimcode Death-Force"]

Director Efren C. Piñon Story/Screenplay Efren C. Piñon, Greg Macabenta, Jerry O. Tirazona Producer [uncredited] Tony Ferrer Music Ernani Cuenco Cinematography “Juanito “Jun” Pereira Editor Edgardo “Boy” Vinarao Cameramen [1st Unit] Ricardo Herrera [2nd Unit] Amado “Botong” de Guzman [3rd Unit] Zosimo Corpuz [4th Unit] Eduardo Cabrales [5th Unit] Oscar Querijero [6th Unit] Rey Lapid

Cast Tony Ferrer (Agent Falcon, Agent X44), Azenith Briones (Cristy Mendoza), Andy Poe (Montalban), Max Alvarado (Michael), Olivia O’Hara (Marlo Andrado), Nick Romano (Manolo del Castillo), Ruby Anna (Ruby), Manny Luna (Greg Africa), Romy Diaz (Douglas), Val Iglesia (Aris Atlonxa), Conrad Poe (Jojo Martinez), Perry Baltazar (Johnny Fernandez), J. Antonio Carreon (Don Franco Madriaga), Mike Cohen (Dr Ivan Skovsky), Manolo Noble (Colonel Nemesio Camus), Protacio Dee (Takeo Kurosaka), Henry Salcedo (Atty. Gene Marquez), James Gaines [Jr] (Jonas Grey) , Rey Sagum (Dr Skovsky’s Aide), Ben Dato (Dr Skovsky’s Aide), George Webber, Richard Olney, Carol Meyerdierks, Rick Fuller, Lourie Ann Churchill, Truman Festos, Barbara Churchill, Adolf James, Elaine Blacher, Tsing Tong Tsai [rumoured to be in the cast, but may be in Last Target instead: Bill James, Kate Atkins, Cathy Young]

Todd Stadtman’s review at Teleport City:

The road that lead me to Tony Falcon, Agent X-44: Sabotage was, as is often the case with these things, a somewhat long and circuitous one. It began when I was watching the third Christopher Lee Fu Manchu movie, the Shaw Brothers co-produced The Vengeance of Fu Manchu, on TV, and found my attention drawn to the actor Tony Ferrer, who was playing the fairly substantial supporting role of Shanghai Police Inspector Ramos. Ferrer was certainly charismatic, and handled himself admirably in his action scenes. But what really struck me was that here was a Filipino actor playing a character whom the filmmakers had gone out of their way to identify as Filipino (why, after all, name a Shanghai policeman “Ramos”?). Given that this was a film in which a pasty-faced Englishman with putty on his eyelids was being sold as Chinese, made at a time when few in the movie business were losing sleep over whether their Asian casting was race or nationality appropriate, this seemed to me like an unusual consideration. Furthermore, while a character such as his would normally have had a pretty limited lifespan in a movie of this type, Ferrer survived to the end of the movie, playing a decidedly heroic role in the climax. These factors combined gave me a strong hunch that, while Tony Ferrer may have been a nobody to a large portion of The Vengeance of Fu Manchu’s international audience, somewhere he was a big, big star.

With a geek fire of white hot intensity now raging beneath me, I set to digging, and before too long found that Tony Ferrer was indeed a big, big star in the Philippines–and that he was known as “The Filipino James Bond” thanks to his recurring role as secret agent Tony Falcon, Agent X-44.

Starting out as a contract player with his older brother Espiridion Laxa’s company Tagalong Ilang Ilang Productions (the company responsible for introducing some of the biggest action stars of Filipino cinema, including Fernando Poe Jr., aka “FPJ”), Ferrer had a fairly undistinguished early career, consisting mostly of supporting roles. This changed in 1965 when his brother developed the Agent X-44 character with him in mind, casting him in the first of a hastily churned out series of films helmed by director and cult film actor Eddie Garcia. Within a year, the Tony Falcon films had become a bona fide phenomenon in the Philippines, and the series would go on to chalk up somewhere around twenty entries, spanning from the mid-sixties to the early eighties.

With this new information turning tantalizing cartwheels in my brain, I was now, of course, dying to see these movies. Unfortunately, I had to steel myself for the probability that this simply would not be possible. Film preservation was a foreign concept to the Philippines until only very recently, and the more distant a film’s vintage, the more likely it is to have long ago returned to the dust from which it came. This is a real shame, because from what I’ve gathered, the Filipino popular film industry of the sixties was very similar to its Turkish counterpart: As prolific as it was impoverished, and with a profligate disregard for copyrights, it churned out hundreds of films a year at a combined cost that would fund one decent-sized Hollywood production, those films loaded with spies and goofy costumed heroes, including undisguised versions of Batman, Robin and Superman. (Not to mention, I imagine, Jesus showing up to make someone bleed out of their eyes or something–because the three things I’ve come to count on from Filipino genre cinema are singing, violence and, wherever you’d least expect it to pop up, jarring evidence of the particularly punitive brand of Catholicism that holds much of the country in its thrall). Despite my pessimism, however, and after a few months of rooting around, the gray market came through for me, and I eventually came into possession of an example of Agent X-44’s impressively voluminous screen output.

The 1966 film Sabotage was not the first Tony Falcon film. In fact, there were at least five other entries in the series produced that same year. But it was the first to launch the series as a true phenomenon, as well as Ferrer’s career as a superstar in his home country. The film premiered at the first Manila Film Festival–a festival dedicated to showcasing the country’s homegrown movie industry–and out-grossed all of the other films on the program. Like pretty much everywhere else in the world, the Philippines was going through a major spy craze at the time, and there would be a number of other film franchises starring super secret agents of their own–Bernard Bonnin as Agent 707, Alberto Alonzo as Agent 69 and Eddie Fernandez as Lagalag among them–but, from the time of Sabotage’s release on, Tony Falcon was the undisputed box office champ above all.

Of course, I should make clear that the particular Tony Falcon film that I had come into possession of was not, as I had hoped and expected, the original 1966 Sabotage, but rather the re-titled international release of another film from the Tony Falcon series’ waning years, 1978’s Sabotage 2. Furthermore, as is often the case with these things, the currently circulating copy of Sabotage is of a quality similar to what you might expect a broadcast signal intercepted from a very distant planet to look like–given that very distant planet is very dark and perhaps underwater. So, while I was looking forward to tasting a new flavor of 1960s secret agent cool–or, at least, a woefully underfunded and technically over-matched facsimile of same–I now had to resign myself to the fact that what I was actually going to be tasting was something quite different and probably a lot less savory.

Or perhaps not. Because Sabotage is indeed a rich slab of nada-budget cinematic cheese. Ferrer was sporting a noticeable paunch by this time, a state of affairs that Tony Falcon’s trademark white suits did little to improve upon. Still the actor is commendably game, always ready to dole out some spirited faux kung fu whenever the action requires. But what’s most impressive about Sabotage is how, by way of its by-necessity minimalism and utilitarian aesthetic, it manages to strip the spy movie down to its essential elements, leaving us with what is basically a Roadrunner cartoon featuring people in suits and bikinis.

The film’s action begins with a team of hired killers–a couple guys with mustaches, a hot chick, and an afro sporting, smooth talking Jim Kelly wannabe–discussing their intention to assassinate a visiting Latin American diplomat. After that we’re immediately into the first assassination attempt, and from there to the arrival on the scene of the resplendently pompadoured Tony Falcon, who chases down the assassins in his car, doles out some faux fu and shoots at them. Another assassination attempt, in which Tony saves the diplomat from an exploding horse on a polo field, follows right on the heels of the first one, and then another, all leading to more chasing and shooting–and all, interestingly, played out with very little dialog. In fact, we don’t hear Tony utter more than two isolated lines at a time until the final twenty minutes of the picture. What dialog there is, however, is all uttered in heavily accented English, rather than Tagalog as I had expected.

Once it’s determined that they’re not going to be able to assassinate the visiting Latin American diplomat with Tony Falcon showing up to chase and shoot at them all the time, the hired killers decide that they should start trying to assassinate Tony Falcon instead. What follows is a series of set pieces in which we get to see what Tony Falcon does in his free time. While most movie secret agents seem to cool their heels by lounging in swanky cocktail lounges, what Tony appears to be doing here is attending a series of wedding receptions that are complete with buffets and awkward, seemingly obligatory ballroom dancing. Then we see him waterskiing with one of his gal pals and, later, golfing. All of these activities, of course, are interrupted by the killers showing up to shoot bullets at Tony through scope rifles, after which he chases, fu’s and shoots at them. These scenes also afford us an opportunity to marvel at some of Tony’s high-tech spy gadgetry, including some X-Ray Specs that work just as advertised, rendering everyone they gaze upon naked while having no effect upon the strategically placed furniture and foliage that hides their nasties.

Finally we are introduced to Dr. Ivan Skovsky (Mike Cohen), a super villain who sits in a control room staffed by women in bikinis and men in orange jumpsuits, considerately making calls at regular intervals to an army officer named Campos to explain his motivations for doing all of the things he’s having the hired killers do. These motivations, however, don’t seem very well thought out–or, at least, Skovsky doesn’t appear to be very committed to them. At first he want to assassinate the diplomat and extort just a bit of the Philippines’ gold reserves. Then he wants to extort all of the Philippines’ gold reserves under threat of him launching all kinds of nuclear missiles at the Philippines. When asked the very reasonable question of why he’s interested in the Filipinos’ gold in particular, he answers that he’s not so much interested in the gold itself as he is in sending a message to the world that he means business. He figures that, once he has either extorted all of the Philippines’ gold or annihilated the Philippines with all of his nuclear weapons, the rest of the world will simply lay down at his feet. This plan makes Skovsky come off more like a super-bully that a super-villain. After all, if you have to make an example of a country, why pick on one as poor and already troubled as the Philippines? It just doesn’t seem very sporting.

Eventually, by means of donning a fake beard, Tony Falcon gains entry into Skovsky’s secret compound, setting Sabotage’s spectacular climax in motion. Because Sabotage is a zero-budget action film, this will involve a lot of helicopters–or, more accurately, one helicopter playing a bunch of different helicopters–because nothing says “production value” like a helicopter. This leads to one of my favorite out of all the helicopter-related, zero-budget action film scenarios, in which someone fires a handgun at an airborne helicopter and it explodes like it was made entirely of atom bombs. After that comes the paratrooper assault, which is accomplished by having exactly two guys dressed as paratroopers filmed from various angles and in different locations to give the appearance of being many. Finally, with these items ticked off the list of things you need in a spy movie, a model of the villain’s compound is blown up and we’re free to go home.

Just a couple of years after making Sabotage, Tony Ferrer would star in his final Tony Falcon feature, a team-up with Fernando Poe Jr. titled The Eagle and The Falcon. After that he would only revisit the character by way of cameo roles in other films that served as either direct references or knowing-but-vague homages, in both cases reflecting the enduring affection with which Agent X-44 was regarded by the Filipino movie-going public. The first of these was when Ferrer played the boss of Weng Weng–that leathery, pocket-sized star of both Filipino action cinema and my most disturbing nightmares–in For Y’ur Height Only, a fact which should clue people in that Weng Weng’s Agent 00, with his blinding white suits, was as much an affectionate spoof of Tony Falcon as he was of James Bond. More recently, Ferrer reprised the Tony Falcon role in a 2007 comedic update of the character appropriately titled Agent X-44, in which he passed the torch to young star Vhong Navarro (who also starred in the Spider-Man spoof, Gagamboy). All of this is evidence that Ferrer has left a deep imprint on his country’s popular culture and, while I have no doubt that his status is well deserved, it will take far more than a viewing of Sabotage alone to fully explain it.

To be honest, I would rather not have watched Sabotage. But to its credit, it didn’t completely kill my desire to see some of the earlier entries in the Agent X-44 series. While the Tony Ferrer who’s on display in this particular example doesn’t present the most suave and sophisticated of secret agents, he is thoroughly likeable, and there’s something in his manner that suggests perhaps an echo of something more fabulous. I’ll just have to keep my fingers crossed and hope that some day, if the gray market gods are willing, that murky, garbled artifact that is the nth generation bootleg of the genuine Tony Falcon, Agent X-44: Sabotage will make its way into my eager hands. Hey, nothing is beyond your reach when you dare to dream.