Showing posts with label Weng Weng. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Weng Weng. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

For Your Height Only on German DVD - with my extras!

WENG WENG FANS REJOICE! The new German DVD of For Your Height Only (titled "Agent 003 1/2") just arrived in the post yesterday from its Film Art label, and the bonus features I supplied are all there! I'm extremely happy and proud to announce it's the most definitive DVD release of FYHO anywhere in the world thus far:

- Small hardbox with leather improvement - like a small leather-bound book! - limited and numbered to 1000 copies

- Picture format: 4:3 (fullscreen), with an alternative version of the main film (1.66:1 anamorphic widescreen)

- Sound: German & English language

- Featurette: "The Weng Weng Story" (with German subtitles) is actually three episodes of my Schlock Treatment program on Weng Weng, half an hour in total!

- On-Disc-Booklet by Andrew Leavold (also as an audio book, spoken by Charles Rettinghaus, the German dubbing actor of Jean-Claude van Damme), both in German

- Extensive picture Gallery with rare movie posters and stills

- Original English language trailers for "For Your Height Only" and "The Impossible Kid"

Discs may be purchased from www.diabolikdvd.com and Film Art's main distributor www.mediatarget.de

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Sex Blood And Betamax interview 2012



 
Sex, Blood, And Betamax Tapes

Interview with Andrew Leavold by Don Jaucian, The Philippine Star 21/07/12

When the history books of Philippine cinema will finally be dusted off, rewritten and repurposed for future generations of filmgoers, the entire segment of Pinoy B-movies will probably be relegated to a mere footnote; a fleeting mention of a sprawling narrative about weird creatures, exploitation films, goons dressed up as nuns, and bionic boys shuffling around the world’s film circuit, brandishing the flag of the Filipino filmmaking industry like a leprous cousin.

What’s even more interesting is that these films actually made money and sustained the local film industry for 40 years. Filipino B-movies were in demand worldwide. Filmmakers like Eddie Romero, Gerry de Leon, and Cirio Santiago (two of whom were anointed as National Artists for Film for their more significant works) made a killing with films like Mad Doctor of Blood Island, The Big Dollhouse, and Cleopatra Wong. These films were co-productions with international producers and made with one-tenth of a budget of a regular Hollywood fare. These English-dubbed movies featured mutated humans, bionic boys, gay satanic bikers, armies of Aztec midgets, and nubile Caucasian and African-American women in bamboo cages in the middle of the jungle.

It’s this lowbrow circus freakshow of a film subculture that drew Australian film historian and filmmaker Andrew Leavold to Pinoy B movies.

What The Hell?

“I think initially the ‘What the hell?’ factor drew me to these films; the feeling that these films came out of a parallel universe where the rules of filmmaking have been turned on their heads. As I started watching more films I realized that there was definitely a style of filmmaking which was quite foreign to Western audiences but once you get used to the taste, it’s absolutely exhilarating. It would be like watching Swedish art cinema for the first time,” says Andrew.

Andrew has been going back to the Philippines (which he considers his second home) after meeting Cinemanila Film Festival director Tikoy Aguiluz in an Australian film festival he curated several years ago. This ignited his search for his personal holy grail: a two-foot-nine midget B-movie actor known as Weng Weng. He has since dedicated his life making his documentary The Search for Weng Weng, which until now remains in a thousand pieces after an Australian producer picked it up and mutated into Machete Maidens Unleashed.

Weng Weng

“For me, Weng Weng is so deeply affecting purely because it has become a personal journey,” he relates. “It acknowledges Weng Weng the human being rather than Weng Weng the karate-kicking novelty. I’m uncovering the story that no one in the Philippines seems to have done. I just found it astounding that even the guy who trained and directed him in five films didn’t even know his real name. I met the director of the first Weng Weng film, Dante Boy Pangilinan, two weeks ago. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I embraced him like a lost brother. It was a weird moment. Weird sh*t tends to happen around the Weng Weng saga because I suspect he’s sitting on my shoulder, directing from behind the scenes.”

Andrew is also deeply fond of another actor who made his name in B-movie parodies of Hollywood films, Dolphy. His perspective on the comedy king’s career brings to light an alternative track running amok with comic book heroes, secret agents, and a whole lot of kung fu films. Weng Weng and Dolphy even worked in several films together including Stariray, The Quick Brown Fox, and D’ Wild Weng Weng. Both Dolphy and Weng Weng symbolized the ordinary Filipino in movies, taking on Hollywood clichés and dipping them into a uniquely Filipino perspective. 
 
Andrew Leavold with Dolphy, 2007
Dolphy As James Batman

“In the parody films, Dolphy’s vaudeville shtick translated perfectly once he started being featured in a starring role in the 1960s. The parody speaks so much about a playful anarchy and guerilla-style tactics taking potshots at Hollywood with a distorted mirror image of what it stole. There’s James Batman, where Dolphy played James Bond and Batman at the same time. That stuff is just genius. There were other films like Adolpong Hitler, Dolfinger. Where in the world would you find films like that?” Andrew explains.

For Y’ur Height Only: In the 1981 Manila International Film Festival, Eddie Nicart’s For Y’ur Height Only, a mockery of the Western spy films, was the only film that was sold to international distributors, beating out films by Fernando Poe Jr. and Lino Brocka.

Five years ago, he had the opportunity of meeting Dolphy for The Search for Weng Weng. The King of Comedy talked about working with the diminutive hero, and his own struggle to become one of the country’s top comedians.

“These were the golden moments in The Search for Weng Weng, sitting at a dinner table with Dolphy, eating pandesal and talking about 50-60 years of being a part of Pinoy experience which I could only experience second-hand. He does comedy well and he gets what the audience wants from these kinds of films. I’ve watched about 50 films of his. I don’t understand everything, but I get it. It’s going to be tough living in a world without Dolphy,” he says.

Andrew Leavold next to export specialists Cine Suerte's van, 2008
A F*Ck You To Hollywood

Despite the ridiculousness of B movies and parodies like Dancing Master, Terror is a Man, and TNT Jackson, these are all cudgels of cinematic heritage that academics and film historians shouldn’t overlook. They might be low-grade spectacles of blood, sex, violence and slapstick catering to a lower class of audience, but these are great examples of the Filipino ingenuity in filmmaking, producing highly marketable films made with very low budgets and were distributed in drive-ins, theaters, and homes around the world. These co-productions became the training ground of Filipino filmmakers, however shoddy the resulting films were, guided by international standards that trickled into local cinema.

“Let’s talk about pulp and commercial cinema [in a way] that isn’t condescending; in ways that actually do recognize achievement,” Andrew relates. “More than anything, Weng Weng represents a ‘f*ck you’ to Hollywood; that they were able to take on Empire Strikes Back, in the West Indies in Christmas of ’82 and beat them. It is the little Pinoy guy saying we can do it on our terms even if we have to steal the James Bond idea and have a midget James Bond with a small budget and still come out a winner. I think that’s incredibly cool. These were the Filipino guys who are able to do some amazing things on their own terms and resources. They showed such ingenuity and pioneering spirit, forging distribution channels rather than piggybacking on the Hollywood dream machine.”

Monday, August 1, 2011

"Weng Weng is Agent OO" - a komik by Ronald Tan (2010)


In October 2010 I met Filipino komik artist Ronald Tan, who at the time was finishing a project based on the life of Weng Weng. Ronald had contacted me several months before and asked permission to use my research - I said be my guest, and while you're at it, give Weng Weng's only surviving brother Celing de la Cruz a call and tell him about the project.

[From back left, anti-clockwise] Ronald Tan, Celing de la Cruz, me, and Celing's wife Editha

June 2011, I'm back in Manila, and Ronald hands me the finished komik which had won second place in a local comics' awards. We then drove to Celing's house to personally hand him the komik, a printout of my Weng Weng research, and a DVD copy of Machete Maidens Unleashed. I suspect Celing realizes just how widespread Wengmania really is!

Ronald's first printing has long since sold out, but he is planning on a second run in the next few months. In the meantime, here's the komik in its entirety - please enjoy!





















Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Imee Marcos interview 2007

IMEE MARCOS INTERVIEW with Andrew Leavold, July 2007

Former President Marcos’ daughter Imee talks candidly about her family’s cultural vision, her role in the Experimental Cinema of the Philippines, the nature of Filipino humour, and her love of a two-foot-nine agent named Weng Weng

Andrew: Most people would agree that your family fostered and maintained a healthy local film industry…

Imee: That’s a really generous statement. I think it may be that my mother always had a very big interest in the arts, and funnily enough, reviewing my father’s speeches, even his inauguration declaration and stuff like that, he talks about “culture” with a big and a little “c” very often, almost more than he spoke about politics. It comes as a surprise to me but in a way it doesn’t, because it was government policy at that time, and this newfangled concept that there should be “cultural infrastructure” provided by the government. Hence the building of the Cultural Centre (CCP), the Film Centre, the Folk Arts and so on. That became a big part of the budget, which in many cases became very controversial within the political realm, being that we never had enough funds for basic utilities. And why were we gallivanting around and insisting that there should be anthropology and architecture, and museums and performing arts… In the end it stems from a belief in my family that the Filipino’s competitive edge is actually his artistry, his soul, his determination and greatness of performance. I think that’s what we believed – that in the end, Filipinos will be known for art, and for making art, because that is what we are. I think in the end, Filipinos are really Asia’s artists.

In the film industry, particularly in the Fifties and Sixties, there was a static and quite parochial approach to film distribution: make your money back in Manila, reap profits in the provinces. It’s a very insular vision for a country’s cinema. It changes in the Seventies when filmmakers like Ishmael Bernal and Lino Brocka were taking their films to the world. Many say the Seventies is when Filipino cinema comes of age and takes on an international perspective, if only for a while.

Yes, I think that’s absolutely correct. In many cases, as you know, the Filipino cinema is the oldest in Asia. It was part of American colonialism, and really came in with Hollywood and the rest of that, and Washington was very insistent that every fifth camera needed to be sent to Manila, hence we had a very old tradition. And yet that old tradition remained local; it only became global in the Seventies. Curiously, during the time of Martial Law! (laughs) I am not about to attempt an explanation, merely to say that even autobiographically my father felt that he owed film his presidency. There are those that explained that when the incumbent president then, the father of Mrs Arroyo today, President Macapagal, banned and issued a restraining order against the opening of a film about my father’s life called Iginuhit Ng Tadhana (“Destined By Fate”, 1965) [the full account of the film’s controversy can be found here]. It was a very melodramatic premiere with no showing at all! And many have explained that that was in fact the turning point. Certainly my father recognized the power of film. Also he was running very low in the surveys until 24 hours before election, when he conducted something called a Telethon, when he received live for almost eight hours straight on TV, all kinds of questions from callers. He had the sense that also allowed him to win in urban areas where he wasn’t immensely popular.

So my father’s handle on the media has always been that it was a platform for politics, for education, for culture. He never had a nervousness about the media that we see today. It may have something to do with the fact that he himself was extremely telegenic and quite cinematic, and spoke extremely well, and that my mother couldn’t have been prettier on camera! (laughs)

It’s true, everyone said she brought glamour to the palace, and was the perfect focus.

Yes, my mother was an icon in politics, that was almost an icon as well in film. She actually took a screen test for Sampaguita Pictures, and I was told she was very good. Of course! Is there any surprise? But she decided to marry my father eleven days after that, so that was hardly a film career for her.

Your life would have been remarkably different.

I imagine so…

Film royalty!

Yes! And she was also a singer, a very good jumping point for any Filipino performer.

With the introduction of Martial Law came a series of restrictions of what can and can’t be shown…

I’m not a real authority simply because I was very young then, so it is a real problem remembering exactly where the lines were drawn. I remember basically there were changing values at each point. I think at the very beginning there were very serious restrictions on the news for example. But in fact in film it was quite broad-ranged. There was also a great deal of sensitivity about violence. Hence the rather controversial banning of animation like Voltes Five. I remember as a child thinking that was horrific (laughs), we were really angry about that. But my father insisted, because there were a series of child-related crimes that psychologists theorized had something to do with this dreadful animation that we adored. Later on there were some arguments between Lino and my mother about the depiction of Manila and what later became known as the ‘poverty aesthetic”. My mother is a real cheerleader for “the good, the true and the beautiful”, certainly classical in its definition and Greek in its sentiment. But Lino, who became a dear friend of mine, thought that he had to show what was occurring in the slums. In fact his films did very well. And curiously there was this little dance between censorship and Martial Law, and the fundamental belief of both my parents that Art was Art, and that it should be left alone.

There were also restrictions on how much could be shown, after the bomba era?

Yes. I spent a great deal of time overseas, particularly in Europe, so I didn’t quite get it. But I know that the MTRCB [Movies and Television Review and Classification Board], as it continues to be, was the board of censors. One of the ladies was Maria Kalaw Katigbak, who was also at the time in the Catholic Women’s League, so I suppose that’s self-explanatory. She was very strict about sex, and it became a bit of a game in the ECP [Experimental Cinema of the Philippines] when I headed it up later in the Eighties, when she was still the chairperson. It became a little bit of a game to try and figure out which bad words she didn’t know, so it was really wicked, and how long she would allow breast exposure and kissing scenes. It was very funny. She would actually time these things, and then we’d sneak them in… It was very naughty but fun. Sometimes I felt things were very unreasonable, so we’d have large arguments, then I’d go marching off to complain. But in the end the ECP got an exemption from censorship for certain so-called “artistic” or “culturally important” films, and we luckily got away with murder pretty much.

Those films were restricted to play within the four walls of the Film Centre?

That’s correct. That was the single venue for uncensored films. It became the single venue also for the Manila International Film Festival [MIFF], where Indian, Japanese, American and European films were shown in their entirety. Pretty much the directors’ cut.

Imee and I at the Film Summit, CCP November 2008

I believe Nagisa Oshima’s In The Realm Of The Senses (1976) was the first controversial film shown?

That’s right. It was one of the films I remember Lino Brocka watching – he used to watch six films a day during MIFF. I remember he beat Ishmael Bernal, he beat all of us. We’d get quite groggy, but Lino was a diehard. I don’t know how many times he saw In The Realm Of The Senses, maybe four or five times. He was quite fixated on this Brocka-esque melodrama.

There were other filmmakers also watching Realm, and I guess this ignites a new kind of approach to filmmaking in the Philippines…

That’s right. I think In The Realm… was significant to that degree, but I think even more importantly was the fact that people like the Indian directors were coming over, the Italians and so on. We had been brought up on a diet comprised almost entirely of American films, so this initial exposure to World Film was a real eye-opener for so many of the directors. Later on, of course, I took a major risk and made what was then the most expensive film in Philippine history, under a director who’d never been heard of before, who’d never directed any film before, and that was Peque [actually Peque Gallaga had directed one film, Binhi/“Seed”, in 1973]. Because Peque Gallaga had submitted a winning script, I said, “Let him direct.” And of course that’s Oro Plata Mata (1982), which still today is being studied for its meanings (laughs).

It’s curious – in the ECP, although it was called “alternative” cinema, I made it very clear to everyone that as Director General I wasn’t specifically interested in “art” or “artsy” or “arthouse” films. I was interested in good commercial pictures. And curiously, these good commercial pictures like Oro Plata Mata and Himala (1982) not only became extremely successful commercial films, they’ve also continued to become part of the syllabus for most of the film schools in Asia.

I always found it fascinating that Filipino filmmakers like Peque, Elwood Perez, Lino Brocka, Ishmale Bernal etc, could straddle the divide between art and commercial cinema.

I don’t think Filipinos know the difference! There are no venues for art films, we have this single indie film theatre in Robinsons which basically doesn’t fill up unless there’s gay porn showing (laughs). We really don’t know the distinctions simply because there is no venue for adult entertainment, no venue for art films, no venue even for short films. So there’s this happy mix, pretty much micro-Philippines in its cuisine, its history, its culture – it just mixes it up. We don’t really draw too many categories. And I suppose that’s the reason why actors and directors and scriptwriters will operate in so many categories quite happily.

I also find it amazing that someone like Maria Isabel Lopez, one of the most respected actresses of her generation, could also have a successful stint as a bold actress!

Yes, it’s curious. Today we see all of these developments where extremely successful commercial blockbuster directors are trying to go to Sundance to make an independent film or vice versa – unheard-of ethnic directors go to Sundance and try to make it big in Hollywood. We’re always perplexed by this effort, because we don’t know the difference! It’s ignorance, I think. And simply the lack of distribution for anything else except for commercial films.

Imee addresses a crowd in 1974

What was your background before stepping into the Director General spot in the ECP?

Actually I had a background in theatre, and I just had lots of friends in the film industry. I don’t know if that was any sort of qualification. Of course I was the distant daughter of the appointing authority, and that may have had something to do with it. I ended up as usual being some sort of compromise candidate, simply because there were so many film distributors and importers who were present in the ECP; I think a lot of the local studios requested my dad that somebody please go over and have the clout to represent local film against all the imported stuff coming out of the United States. Johnny Litton, for example, at that time – they were the biggest importers of film. And so somebody had to go and represent local film. I don’t know, maybe because I hung out with a number of them, I became the one, and I guess they figured I had my dad’s ear or something. So I came in entirely without credentials!

How long did the ECP last?

Well it lasted pretty much from 1981 to 1986, until the EDSA Revolution. I’d say it was successful to a certain degree, in as much as the film development, the ratings board, that’s still there, and I was actually the author of the law that institutionalized it when I was a congressman. So that’s there, it’s been there for a while. Alternative cinema doesn’t exist any more, but so many of the directors have since become among real institutions in the Philippines scene, including crowd directors like Joel Lamangan; the general gadabout for the ECP at that point, who is one of the most prestigious directors now, Chito Rono; Peque, of course, and many others. It was great fun, it was a wonderful period, everyone was in the same building, and there was a wonderful energy, a buzz that we were doing something that would be fun, but maybe, MAYBE also significant later on.

Then of course the Bold Explosion would emerge from the ECP, and a freedom, a freshness…

We didn’t see it quite like that at the time, not having had any perspective. We just knew that we were being very busy, and trying very hard to find financing, or at least incentives in terms of tax and other rebates for many of these films that wouldn’t have been produced otherwise. Many of the films were actually beneficiaries of quite hefty tax rebates, if they were considered “A” or “B” quality films. Others were direct recipients of government loans which sadly, in the main, were not paid – producers in the Philippines are not noted for their brilliant accountants. That didn’t work out too well (smiles). I think in the future, should there be a film fund it should be operated perhaps by a bank, and not by government because too many people have a sense that they pay taxes anyway, so why should they pay for the loan? Which really isn’t the way to have a sustainable film industry! But we’ve learned those lessons now. It’s still my hope that some venture capitalist or private equity – of course in America there are all those hedge funds. I still pray for the day that they discover our scene in the Philippines where we, after all, tread the middle between the huge Western audience and this immense desire for Asian content, and the burgeoning Asian market. Let’s hope we can translate between the two.

What do you remember about the first MIFF in early 1982?

It was great fun actually. I was very sceptical to be quite honest. I always thought film festivals involved Europeans, and I didn’t think anyone would come over to Asia, despite the fact that of course we had Indian and Japanese directors. And still I think there was a stunning turnout, and suddenly the spotlight was focused on Philippine film. Even we discovered that the Philippine film industry was the second largest in the world at the time. It was a revelation to all of us; we were just scurrying about doing our business, and didn’t quite realize how big it had become. Whether it was rubbish or whether it was bomba, whether we had all these idiotic action flicks which were so popular and were being churned out, goon cinema forever, and really toilet humour – the point really was that so many films were being made. And of course that high of just under three hundred films a year has never been achieved again. I think last year only thirty eight films were premiered in theatres, with several more opening in specialized locations in universities and so on. So it’s a real meagre harvest compared to what used to be.

And of course, For Y'ur Height Only was the biggest selling film of the 1982 festival!

Weng Weng! Yes.

What was the general reaction to that?

Of course everyone passed out! We had begun to assume all kinds of artistic pretensions, and what we saw as a very low budget, low humour sort of thing, suddenly gets bought in Cannes above all of our rather self-important films from the ECP and so on. But the point I suppose was that my parents were determined to open the door to Filipino films – we may not have agreed with the final product (smiles) but we were certainly determined to open the door and showcase to the rest of the world. Of course to our amazement it was Weng Weng that got bought.

Weng Weng of course is a typical Filipino phenomenon of transforming what is horrific and frightening and prevalent in Filipino culture into something silly, humorous and ultimately manageable in human terms. So I suppose we shrank the Goon! It makes perfect sense; it’s exactly what Filipinos do. We transform our pain into ridicule. It’s something that we always do. I suppose it’s the reverse impulse of the Medievalist, where the Devil is always the most seductive woman, always the funniest, most attractive character. This is sort of the reverse. The bad guys always become laughable and somehow pathetic. So Weng Weng epitomizes all of that. Why the rest of the world got it, I will never know!

I understand your brother was quite taken with Weng Weng, and that he was a frequent guest at the Palace.

Oh yes, he sure was. Not just my brother, everyone was. He was the cutest thing! He was such a sweetie.

At one point he was given a badge and a gun.

Are you serious? I didn’t know that.

I think Ramos was a General at the time.

Yes, he was the head of the police.

He was used on infiltration missions…

That’s so funny. I was at school, I don’t remember, but I do remember that everyone loved him dearly, and thought he was the sweetest thing.

So he was a frequent visitor?

I suppose so. I did see him at several parties, and that he was introduced everywhere. And that we spoke to him and tried to understand where all that special energy was coming from. We did immediately fall in love with him like everyone else. He was adorable. He had a natural sweetness about him, that made the goon characters that surrounded him, and that he ultimately played, infinitely ridiculous. It became so funny.

For some reason overseas audiences also fall in love with him.; It’s not just a Filipino phenomenon – the rest of the world gets it.

For some bizarre reason! Right.

Santo Nino shrine in Weng Weng's brother's home

You know his parents believed he was Santo Nino?

Yes, I think there was a little bit of that. We have this fascination with the Christ child, and there was a little bit of that, I think not only with his parents but with everyone else. There continues to be a strong schtick in many of our stand-up comedians, saying that the Filipinos have no superhero, and that in fact our superhero is the Santo Nino. Because almost every Filipino household has one, and that the globe and the sceptre and the crown transforms, as well as the cape, into superhero magic. I think there was a sense that this translated into films starring Weng Weng in some extremely irreverent and hysterical way. It’s been decried time and time again that we have no Superman or GI Joe or Batman and so on, but instead we have the Santo Nino, and all the children identify with him, grown up with the Santo Nino, in the same way a whole generation grew up with Weng Weng!

Let’s talk about the Philippines’ obsession with parody and its strange relationship with Western culture, where they poke fun at it and revere it at the same time. For almost forty or fifty years, parody seems to be the Filipino way of making the dominant culture uniquely theirs.

I think it’s an Asian thing to a certain degree, because perhaps in the West only happy moments, only triumphs and victory and successes are actually celebrated, whereas in Asia we tend to remember everything, we want it recalled, to become part of our consciousness. Even tragedy, even crisis, and really dreadful things must be recorded. It’s part of our art as well. You see really ugly things; illness and death are almost always in Asian art, and it’s recorded as carefully as beauty and perfection. In the Filipino case we of course need to go one step further, perhaps because our lives are quite melodramatic, simply because of all the calamities, manmade and foisted by nature, because poverty is so rampant and crime continues to hold sway. Perhaps because of all these things we need to deal with life on a daily basis, and our survival mechanism is parody, and humour is our coping mechanism. That’s probably why we do this. We need to transform these disasters, these calamities, these absolutely horrific things into funny stuff. Otherwise we couldn’t go on from day to day.

If you look at Hollywood as a steamroller flattening the cultural landscape of the Philippines, then the way to deal with that is to take Western cinema’s icons and flip them.

Our idea is that we’ve had too many imperialists; there have just been too many colonials. We’ve been conquered by so many big powers. And you obviously can’t fight them, because just when you’re about to win a revolution, here comes another one! So the point is, in order to deal with this is to make fun of it, so that it becomes subversive, and that parody is in fact the ultimate rebellion. Is that it? (laughs) It’s curious – the Filipinos are not ironic. We have no sense of cynicism or sarcasm, I think because humour needs to be a very pointed, bladed weapon against colonialism, against this huge juggernaut that we never have a hope of beating anyway. I suppose that’s why we’re so good at all these dreadful, silly mobile text jokes. I mean they’re endless, and now they have animation and graphics and colour and sounds. Some of them are nothing short of artwork. But they’re all part of the effort to make life manageable, life that’s usually tragic and disastrous.

It’s now a cliché that the Philippines was ruled by Spain for four hundred years, by America for fifty years, and by Hollywood ever since.

Yes, clichés are dreadful things but they have large germs of truth in them, and silly as that one is, many of our South East Asians say that we belong in Latin America, and that we have this South American sensibility that is bizarre here in Asia. Because we have this flair for melodrama, this rampant exhibitionism that is SO un-Asian.

It’s a Catholic country for one thing, where it shouldn’t really exist.

Manila Film Centre

Yes, there are no other Christian countries in Asia except Eastern Timor, which only just was born, and South Korea, which is threatening to turn evangelical every minute. Bur basically the straight-up Catholic country really is the Philippines, and all that wonderful guilt makes for great cinema! (laughs)

There’s also the twin poles – of repressed passion and sensuality, and of that fiery Latino passion – and the constant tension between the two, is very much like Latin America or Spain.

I think Italy more than Spain in a curious way, Italy also being supremely disrespectful of Catholicism. Even if they have the Pope, they never had the Inquisition of the Fifteenth Century like Spain did. It may have something to do with the fact that the largest population of Filipinos in Europe is in Italy – we’re the Asian Italians!

Is there anything else you’d like to mention?

I think it’s time for great Filipino film. I don’t know where it’s going to come from, but I’m actively waiting. I stopped running for office – I don’t want to be in politics anymore and I’d like to make a few films. Whether they’re animation features or interactive as they are these days in digital, even with our analogue brains, I’d like to be there. There’s a huge energy now with the interactive and new media, and strangely they are rare but celebrated Filipinos are in that landscape as well. I see burgeoning there somewhere.

Filipinos have always been incredibly talented comic artists.

I think that’s correct. Also in the music scene there will always be Filipinos. Filipinos are especially gifted. With all the earthquakes and the typhoons and the tornados, God made it up with all that music (laughs).

That’s the payoff?

That’s the real payoff. We’re funny and we can sing (laughs again). Everything else goes to Hell.

But without a trace of cynicism?

No cynical edge at all. My father used to call it the “cheap cynicism of the West”. It’s actually really frowned upon. It’s so not on in the Philippines, people don’t like you being sarcastic. I’m English educated and I’m told off all the time for being sarcastic, for being dark, for losing hope. It’s wrongful and even threatening to Filipinos - to lose hope, to be cynical and to say that things will ultimately not work and fail. They need to know that things will be better. It’s a very upbeat, Pollyanna sort of thing, even when there’s no evidence that should be the case.

So Nietzsche and Sartre never made much impact?

No, no mark at all! It’s a determined, learned cheerfulness.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Eddie Nicart interview 2007

WENG WENG'S DIRECTOR SPEAKS: EDDIE NICART INTERVIEW with Andrew Leavold, February 2007

[Photos from the Eddie Nicart shoot for THE SEARCH FOR WENG WENG, February 2007]

In The Search For Weng Weng, Eddie Nicart was truly one of the Holy Grails. It was February 2007, on my second trip to the Philippines, and the closest I’d come to finding the real Weng Weng story was his editor (Boy Vinarao) and co-star (stuntman Steve Alcarado). Not only had I run into the proverbial brick wall, but to add insult to injury, I was now ramming my head against it repeatedly.

A chance phone call to former child star Nino Muhlach led to a late night coffee near my Stonehouse hotel room in Quezon City. Nino was roughly the same size as Weng Weng when they used to show up to festivals together in the early 80s. “he used to get angry when I tried to play with him,” laughed Nino. “I thought he was a kid like me!”

Nino eyed me over steaming polystyrene cups and empty Nescafe sachets from across the table and said, “So how close have you got?” I told him all I knew. He snorted. “This is bullshit. Who do you need to talk to?”

“How about Eddie Nicart?” I shot back optimistically. “He was Weng Weng’s director, and trained him as a stuntman.” Nino flipped open his mobile and dialled. “Talk to Rene the Legman,” he said as he shoved the mobile towards me.

Sure I can bring you Eddie, said Rene. He was schedule master during the crazy days of Pinoy cinema and knew where all the Old Boys lurked. 3pm tomorrow, National Bookstore in Quezon City. Yep, I know where it is. See you then.

It was too good to be true – I was finally inches closer to the truth about Weng Weng! Sure enough, I found a table of aging goons at the National Bookstore coffee shop. There was Roland Dantes, former martial arts superstar, and his co-star in Arnis Sticks Of Death, Rusty Santos. Franco Guerrero, the One-Armed Executioner himself, was seated next to director Romy Suzara. It was a veritable Goon Convention, the stories were sparking off each other, and I let the camera roll.

I then spied a guy in a baseball cap escorted past the security guards by a shorter chap. “That,” said Franco, “is Eddie Nicart.”

I ran across the shopping centre to shake his hand. “I am SO happy to meet you,” I beamed. “I rang you several years ago on your mobile, and you told me to meet you in Manila. Well, here I am!”

“Yes, I remember,” he said. Such a quiet, humble guy. We all sat at the table, the stories flew thick and fast, and by the end of the afternoon Eddie agreed to an interview at his home several days later.

Tikoy Aguiluz and I hired a cab for the hours-long drive to Taytay, the Western part of Rizal province bordering Metro Manila. “When you get to Taytay, just ask for me,” were his instructions. “Everyone knows who I am.”

And know him for a good reason. As Barangay Captain for ten years, Eddie held an exhalted position akin to Village Chieftan. Barangays are like subdivisions within larger towns and are the smallest division of government. At the time of our visit Eddie had only just stood down as Captain, but was monitoring the upcoming Barangay elections. Across the road from his home in his bamboo recreation room, the walls were lined with Barangay paraphernalia, not to mention countless trophies for basketball, movie props, Betamax tapes, framed photos with co-stars Fernando Poe Jr and former President Joseph Estrada, and what was obviously an object of immense pride: a FAMAS Stuntman of the Year award for 1988.

Eddie is still regarded as one of the Philippine cinema’s greatest ever stunt performers, rising through the SOS Daredevils’ ranks from stuntman to fight director, character actor, and eventually film director, starting with a series of midget spy spoofs. He’s not the most confident of English speakers, but we understood each other well. I was in awe of the man who created Agent OO, and he knew it. Here’s our conversation, published for the first time.

Andrew: Your career started in the Sixties as a stuntman?

Eddie: 1961 or ’62. Maybe ’60. My first film was Sigaw Ng Digmaan [actually 1963] with FPJ (Fernando Poe Jr). I was a Japanese.


Eddie Nicart (left) on the set of Daredevil Rider (1973) [photo courtesy of Willie Milan]

Can you tell me what it was like making action films in the Sixties?

During the Sixties up to Seventies I worked hard as a stuntman, then Burt Reynolds comes to the Philippines. He made a film and I was the co-star, trainer, contrabida of Burt Reynolds. Both the stuntmen, we are jumping from the building. Impasse, Burt Reynolds. That was 1969.

You were a stunt director since which year?

When I was a stuntman, that’s 1962. Up to 40 or 45 years in SOS Daredevils.

I heard that Burt Reynolds gave SOS Daredevils a car or motorbike after the shoot because he was so impressed?

When we are shooting in Pasay, in that building where I am running, the jeepney is around, and I jump to the jeep. That’s why Burt Reynolds is “wow!”

I also heard you and an American stuntman once rolled down a hill – the American was battered and bruised, and you got up without a scratch?

There were many cactus. I rolled down the hill.


Eddie shows me the wire harness Weng Weng used in the umbrella stunt...

...and the back pad Weng Weng used in his more dangerous stunts!

Obviously you trained as a stuntman for many years. Someone told me the pay for a stuntman was very low.

At the time (in the Sixties), fifteen pesos, up to twenty pesos a day. Now is a thousand.

No union?

No union of the stuntman here. I formed a stuntman association, I am president with FPJ. I worked for one year to make an association, no film, just to have an association. A group of stuntmen from Cubao, Cebu, come here to Manila. That’s Ronnie (Fernando Poe Jr), Dolphy, (Joseph) Estrada – my three backers.

It seems both Estrada and FPJ did a lot for independent producers.

I think that’s good, but now it’s very hard. FPJ passed away, Joseph is under house arrest. Maybe ten years ago, the movies were in boom. But now very hard because of political (reasons).

If you had no union and therefore no protection if you were hurt, then you were out of work, no money?

There is no union, no protection here. When I made Robo Warrior (1996), when I made stunts, we have a contract for insurance.

I saw you in an Agent X44 film, The Infiltrators (1969). Do you remember how many films you did with Tony Ferrer?

Maybe fifty as a stuntman. After that, my producer Liliw (the Caballes) convinced me to direct a film. That was Weng Weng. At the time I was also directing foreign (films) as an action director, also local action director. So I got experience directing movies. It’s very hard to direct a small guy that did not know what he is talking about (does a high pitched voice). It’s very hard because he did not know how to speak English or to read the script. So the most I was going to do was dubbing (dubbed over?), and most scenes are action and with gadgets. He’s like a stuntman – jump from the building, jump from the bridge (laughs).

What was the life of Weng Weng like before Pete Caballes came along?

I think before that he is selling cigarettes, a vendor in Baclaran I think. The name of Weng Weng is I think Ernesto. The family name, I don’t know. The first name is Ernesto.

Did you ever meet Weng’s family?

One time only. When I went to the house of Weng Weng, I meet the mother, she was very old already. In a small shanty in Baclaran.

They were very poor?

Not so poor, but one meal a day.

Was his father there?

His father had already passed away. Only the brother, or sister also.

Was the elder brother supporting the family?

Yes. The brother is Bin. Ricardo, I think, and Bin.

I heard a story where Weng Weng was dressed as Santo Nino in the parades in Baclaran.

Maybe my instructor knows. When Weng Weng goes out, my instructor accompanies him. Even to the province to make a casual appearance, I think. The brother in Baclaran knows that.

Do you remember how Peter met Weng Weng?

I remember only that Peter saw him in Baclaran, and Weng Weng was selling cigarettes in a cigarette stand (imitates a high pitched voice).

Is that what Weng Weng’s voice sounded like?

Very small. But you could understand it. (Squeaks) “You want cigarette?” Very small. But when he tells a story, he’s very aggressive to tell the story. Sometimes he cannot do it, because he’s thinking that he did not remember the other (details).

How did Peter discover him?

I think in Baclaran. The brother of Weng Weng is a big guy, they had an idea to offer Weng Weng in the movies. So the producer got Weng Weng, brings Weng Weng into the studios. The studios say, “Who’s Weng Weng?” And then at that time Marcos brings Weng Weng to Malacanang (Palace). Because Caballes is Ilocano, also the President is Ilocano. “There is a small guy…” The President laughed and laughed, especially Bong Bong Marcos, the son of Marcos, already at the time was a kid. That’s why they have a friend. Then they say, “We make Weng Weng as an agent!” (laughs)

Make him a real life agent?

A real life agent. That’s why Peter Caballes brings him to the studio. “This is a real life agent!”

They made a badge for him?

Yes, a badge and a gun.

A little pistol?

25 calibre pistol. Then they have an idea to make a movie of Weng Weng. Then they talked to me after the director of Caballes, Boy Pangilinan, made a movie – Weng Weng is already in the leading role.

Do you remember what film that was? (Almost certainly Chop Suey Met Big Time Papa [1978])

No. Then the Caballes told me to make a full-length movie with Weng Weng. So we collaborate on the story. At that time, For Your Eyes Only, that’s James Bond’s story. So we make For Y’ur Height Only!

Someone once told me Weng Weng worked at the airport?

Because Caballes is an Ilocano, and the head of the airport is the best friend of Caballes. When foreigners arrived, Weng Weng is already there! So the foreigners, they appreciate Weng Weng.

We was like the Welcome to Manila sign?

(In a high pitched voice) “Welcome to Manila!” (laughs) That’s the life of Weng Weng.

Boy Vinarao told me there were six Weng Weng features and four cameos. Who would know exactly how many films he made?

The details (are with) Cora Caballes. They sell Weng Weng to other producers in that time, before I handled Weng Weng. Up til I handle Weng Weng, already up. Cora was elected already, selected as a politician, so she stopped producing. Maybe before he has cameo roles with Dolphy, maybe cameo with other outfits.

Do you remember meeting Pete Caballes?

I think it was in Pandacan (in Manila), I have a nice stuntman and they were making a movie also, they have a movie at that time before Weng Weng (Chop Suey…or the earlier Sila Sa Bawat Bangketa [1976]). And then they hired me as a stuntman, and then they have an idea. The director of Weng Weng in that Liliw production (Dante “Boy” Pangilinan) cannot easily make a film with Weng Weng, so the producer contacted me to make a movie with Weng Weng. I said maybe we can make a film with Weng Weng, but we are going to practice first with him in the gym. So I bring Weng Weng into the gym, then make him do his own stunts, martial arts, everything. And then they gamble the money to produce Weng Weng.

I watched Da Best In Da West (1981) and saw you were a stuntman, Peter Caballes was an actor, and Weng Weng was Dolphy’s deputy sheriff.

I think that was filmed in Baguio.

Did that film come before For Y’ur Height Only?

Yes, before For Y’ur Height Only.

What do you remember about Da Best In Da West?

And Lito Lapid. I’m a stuntman, and I was instructor of Lito Lapid at the time. All the fights of Lito Lapid, and the horse of Lito Lapid goes into the bodega. I made candy glass. On the mountain, the horse jumps into the water – I was the one who jumped into the water.

So you were the main stuntman?

Stuntman, instructor…

As an actor, what did you do?

I fight with Lito Lapd, that’s my role in the film. Lito fights with Dolphy.

So you’re a bad guy?

Bad guy (laughs) at the time.

Do you think Pete working on Da Best… inspired him to make For Y’ur Height Only?

After Da Best, Weng Weng guests in that film, then Cora has an idea to make a movie. That’s why they contacted me to make For Y’ur Height Only.

When you were first introduced to Weng Weng, did he know martial arts?

He did not know. We teach him, we practiced in gym with my instructor. Stunt acting, karate, fighting scenes, everything.

How long did you train him?

A couple of months, I think.

In D’Wild Wild Weng, he takes off his shirt and starts doing martial arts patterns on the hill – he’s quite good. So by the time you made D’Wild…, was he quite good?

Yes, the instructor teach him very well. We only had to count – “Weng Weng, go! One…two…three…four…” So he knows the numbers to do it.

How was he as a stuntman?

My instructor taught him, and whenever he did a stunt, there were other stuntmen to assist him. Maybe not afraid if it is very high, because there is a stuntman below, “C’mon, Weng Weng!”

The company Liliw Productions was Pete and Cora Caballes. When did they form the company?

I think it’s in 1968 or 1969.

What kind of films did they make?

Action, drama. For the Tagalog market only.

For Y’ur Height Only was their first international film?

Only (the films with) Weng Weng were his international films. And they made money on that film, so they can have a mansion in Quinta. Ten or fifteen million (pesos) worth of mansion.

The Caballes really did well? Yet you weren’t paid very much.

(Laughs) Not satisfied.

So the only people who made money were the Caballes?

Right. But because they are kind, they are so good…

So you’re not unhappy?

When it comes to the financial, I’m not happy. Nut it’s OK for me, because they are like my mother, they treat me as a brother.

There was a real family feel?

Yes, so I worked hard for him, five pictures I work for him. Maybe financially I’m not happy but it’s OK. It’s not we are only for money, but for our heart.

He allowed you to direct your first film. Then you started making films for other producers. What was your first film after Weng Weng?

Lito Lapid, Alamat Ni Leon Guerrero (1982). Like a Lone Ranger, there’s a Tonto, there’s an Indian village…

It’s a Pinoy western?

Yes, Pinoy western. Senator Lito Lapid, producer also. The second one is Zigomar (1984), like Zorro. I made two Dante Varona pictures, and Get Commander Jack Moro: Bangsa Moro Army (1989), that’s a real story.

There was a rumour of an Agent OO TV series?

No TV series. Film only.

There was a film called Agent OO?

That’s a different film.

With Ramon Zamora?

I think so. Zamora. I think only five pictures. For Y’ur Height Only is the one that makes dollars.

The film was shown at Metro Manila Film Festival, then Dick Randall saw it, and sold it all over the world?

Then brings Pete to Cannes festival.

The film was sold everywhere – Australia, the Middle East, Mexico. Because the idea of a miniature James Bond is insane! Were the other films taken to Cannes as well?

I think so. The Impossible Kid, D’Wild Wild Weng were also taken to Cannes by Pete Caballes. But I don’t know if they made money.

Can you tell me how you got Weng Weng flying out of a building with only an umbrella?

He jumped from the seventh floor of Midland Plaza with a big umbrella. I made a gadget with piano wire, then a tie with a harness. I made the piano wire so that if the wind blows up, I can control the umbrella with Weng Weng.

There’s a great scene in For Y’ur Height Only where he punches someone in the balls and runs between their legs! (laughs) And the scene where Weng Weng slides down a ferris wheel.

Right! He’s doing it all. It’s in Angeles.

In For Y’ur Height Only he has a jet pack – did you use a crane on that?

Yes, I had a crane, and a small gadget mounted. It’s in Sapangbato and Olongapo, the island in Olongapo.

So that’s where the lair of Mr Giant is? The idea of Weng Weng, a midget, battling Mr Giant, a dwarf, is a crazy idea! Is that Cora’s?

Cora Caballes’ idea, in cooperation with the writers, and my co-director, assistant director, my instructor.

Who is that?

Mando Pangilinan.

Is he the guy who worked on D’Wild Wild Weng as well?

Assistant, stuntman also. He’s my instructor. All in SOS Daredevils.

Ruben Ramos…

Ruben Ramos, my instructor also.

He was in a lot of films as an actor. With his bald head and moustache, he’s very good!

Ruben Ramos, he’s a good actor. He’s very good playing with a knife!

He passed away?

No, I think he’s alive, but very old.

The girls from Dolphy’s Angels (1980), they were cast in For Y’ur Height Only – Carmi Martin, Yehlen Catral, Anna Marie Gutierrez…

Yehlen Catral, I think she’s abroad. America I think. She’s a designer. But Carmi Martin is here. Beth Sandoval, she has already passed away. The ending, when Tony Ferrer arrives…

“Irmaaaaa!”

Yes, Irma.

What can you tell me about Rodolfo “Boy” Garcia?

He’s in a lot of films, because here he is number one like Paquito Diaz, number one contrabida. He’s a big name, like Max Alvarado, Rod Navarro, Paquito Diaz, Romy Diaz…

How about Romy Diaz?

He’s passed away. Tongue (cancer).

He’s one of my favourite bad guys. I heard he and his brother Paquito were professional basketball players, but chose to become actors instead.

Romy is a good actor.

And a good friend?

Yes, he’s my kumpare. His role is always the bad guy!

Is it true Weng Weng lived in the Caballes’ home?

Yes, in Pandacan (an upmarket district in the City of Manila).

Boy Vinarao told me he was dressed by them, and he pretended to be a little mega-rich superstar. Did they pamper him?

Maybe…

Did he used to wear his white suit around?

All in white. Sometimes I also wear only white!

The casting of Tony Ferrer (as Agent X-44, the Filipino James Bond of the Sixties) was a stroke of genius. Did he mind playing the sidekick to a 2 foot nine midget?

He was happy because the Caballes are a kumpare.


So Tony did a favour to the Caballes.. I believe Weng Weng became quite famous from For Y’ur Height Only. Did he make a lot of TV appearances?

As guest, not like the others in TV. Because when it comes to an interview, Weng Weng did not know how to answer the interviewer. He needed an interpreter.

He couldn’t speak Tagalog?

He could speak Tagalog, but even in Tagalog he cannot answer. Because he is like a small boy. Sometimes he’s angry…

Like an uncooperative child! But what was he like as a person?

He is cooperative. When we are going to shoot a movie, he wakes up in the morning, and then, “Weng Weng, get dressed. The costume is like this.” “OK!” Breakfast, he’s on the set. “You’re going to jump through that bridge.” “OK!”

He was happy to be there?

Yes, very happy.

If you consider he was very small, the opportunity to do something outstanding was slim. Yet he became an international actor – that’s an amazing thing. Someone else told me he never became arrogant. Would you agree that fame didn’t change him?

I think he’s quite a tiny man, he’s very quiet. When I said run, he’d run, when I said jump he’d jump. When we were off camera, he’s very quiet.

He was often mistaken as a small boy, how did that make him feel?

Maybe sometimes angry when they say he’s a small boy. “No, I’m already a man!” That’s why when you say, “Weng Weng, this girl is mine,” “No, this is my girlfriend.” “No, this is MY girlfriend!” He makes jealous. “Where’s my gun?” (laughs)

He does seem very innocent.

Like a small boy.

Is that why people took him into their hearts?

He’s a very friendly guy. But Pete Caballes, “Don’t talk to Weng Weng.” Because Weng Weng maybe knows everything. The only ones who could talk with Weng Weng were me or the instructor. The others, not talk talk with Weng Weng. He kept him only in the room.

What kind of relationship did Weng Weng have with Peter – like a father?

Like a father, but when outsiders come to their house, (they treat him) like a dog. “Go up!” When there is a visitor, he go up(stairs). So the boy, when the visitors are coming, he run to the top (of the house), he’s scared.

Because he was yelled at by the Caballes?

“Go to your room!”

But Weng Weng didn’t mind?

No, Weng Weng didn’t mind, because Weng Weng is like a boy.

Physically he’s like a little boy – tiny head, perfectly small body. He’s very unique.

Very unique.

You’ve never seen another person like him.

It’s the first time, I saw him. The other (short) persons, they’re like a crab, but Weng Weng is proportioned in the body.

All your films have big endings… My favourite ending is in D’Wild Wild Weng where Weng Weng has a gatling gun, and there are guys in sombreros…

…like Mexicans! (laughs)

…mown down with the machine gun. How long does it take to shoot a scene like that?

I think three to four days. That’s in Pampanga, in the desert. Like Mexico.

Everyone’s dressed as Mexicans, it looks like the Wild West, but they’re driving a jeep, and it’s modern day Philippines!

It’s like a Volkswagen, a jeep.

This is a crazy idea for a film!

With a big man, Max Laurel.

Weng Weng is a small size, Max Laurel is twice as tall. So when they’re walking through the desert, it looks incredible!

“How can we enter that house?” (Makes a throwing motion)

He throws him like a football!

Like a javelin throw – pow!

And then at one point Weng Weng’s in a bag around Max Laurel’s neck, and Weng Weng sticks his head out, looks around, then ducks back into the sack! And at the table he’s eating bananas like a little monkey! (laughter) In The Impossible Kid he walks between two buildings – is that on a tight rope?

That’s a tight wire. Also piano wire, he’s on a small motorbike, he jumps to the other cliff. I had a gadget of piano wire together with the motorbike. I hung it from the bridge (makes sliding noises). But it’s very tiny, you can’t see it in the camera. Now it’s done already by computer, but at that time you do it actual.

At the end of The Impossible Kid, the credits promise "License Expired"?

It was not made already, because Cora Caballes was elected as a Councillor in Manila, so they stopped producing.

Everyone has a Weng Weng story, and some are about him in public with girls on his arms. Did he believe he was a ladies’ man?

It’s only his dream. When he embraces a woman, the woman says, “C’mon, Weng Weng…” Sometimes he makes you jealous – “Weng Weng, she’s MINE!”

He loved the idea of being like James Bond?

Like James Bond. Embrace a couple of women, two or three.

Did Weng Weng ever see any of the money? Was he well paid?

Not very well, because the producer did not give so much money. But when the brother came to the producer, one thousand or two thousand.

Pesos?

That’s for For Y’ur Height Only. I think it made one million dollars.

So Weng Weng only saw a fraction of that money?

Hmm….The last one I made (The Cute, The Sexy & The Tiny), with Berting Labra, Weng Weng, Pia Moran – the last film with Weng Weng, he is a convict, like an Al Capone, he’s in prison and he gets out.

You don’t remember what else happens?

I think Cora has a pile of scripts and photos in her office. But she is in America now.

And Peter is…?

Missing! ‘Cos he’s married to another girl. He split with Cora.

Do you remember when?

I think ten years ago.

When Weng Weng stopped making movies, was that because Peter decided to stop? Do you know what happened to Weng Weng after he stopped making movies?

They stopped the movies because Cora Caballes was elected Councillor in Manila, I think three or two times in six years. When she is already Councillor in Manila, she cannot have a business of making movies. Because she is a public servant. That’s why Weng Weng brought my stuntmen, they’re drinking in the clubs. That’s why the heart attack.

From too much drinking?

I think so.

Do you know when he had a heart attack?

The year? Maybe 1996 or ’95. (I found out days later Weng Weng passed away in 1992)

How long after did he pass away?

Only a couple of weeks, I think. Very quickly.

When was the last time you saw Weng Weng?

In the 80s. ’89 I think.

You didn’t see him when he got sick? Someone said they remember his family on TV asking for help.

Maybe, I think so. I did not see the television.

Franco Guerrero saw a TV program, “Where Are They Now” – already he was starting to get fat and couldn’t talk from the stroke. It seems there was no fund to help him.

Maybe the Actors Guild could help him, but I think they didn’t know that Weng Weng had troubles. The producers can help, because Weng Weng was living in the house of the producers, Cora Caballes.

That’s a question for Pete and Cora – why was he left alone? He was so famous, and then suddenly forgotten. No one really knows what happened to him in the last few years.

If you can talk to the producers, to Cora, maybe she will tell you, “It’s OK for me…” But the people know they maltreated Weng Weng in their house. They earned money, but they did not give the share of Weng Weng.

You really believe Weng Weng was treated badly?

Not really that (badly), because Cora is a friend of mine. When I go to the house, Weng Weng is very (smiles), he is going to embrace me…

Your last film til now, what year?

1996 (the film was Kokey, released in 1997). You know Mahal the midget, in Baguio with Carlo Aquino, the boy now is big. At that time I became Captain (of Taytay village), I was elected as a Barangay Captain here, so I served here almost en years. I have no time to go to Magnatech (a post production facility in Quezon City) to make a movie, because there are many problems here in my place.

What kinds of jobs do you do as Barangay Captain?

My job is to explain the consequences of what the (government) project is to the people, health, to improve the barangay. Now already after ten years I’ve quit.

At the moment you’re looking after the barangay elections?

Maybe this coming election I am a candidate also, a Captain in this barangay.

It seems the mid 90s, when you stopped making films, was also the time when others stopped.

That’s the time movies go down.

I see a lot of the old guys drinking coffee at National Book Store and Tropical Hut. It’s quite sad to see the industry shrink so much.

You see Magnatech is already closed down? At the time Magnatech was many people making pictures. Now it’s like a ghost office.

There are hardly any films now, only television.

That’s OK, but… That’s why our main actors are in TV, like Eddie Garcia, Rudy Fernandez…

Everyone loved Filipino films in the Sixties and Seventies. That must have been a huge boost, that there were always movies to be made?

Now I think people consider movies, how much – it’s a hundred pesos plus. At that time in the Sixties, only five pesos, or two pesos.

Now shopping malls are the only places to see movies!

A lot of money to see movies. And Jollibee!

That’s the only one? You were also on Siege Of Firebase Gloria (1989). That was the time when foreign producers were still coming to the Philippines. Then in the 90s it stopped. The presidents after Marcos weren’t as welcoming?

For me, Marcos is good. When it comes to the movie industry, he helped, because the Americans came to make movies here. After that, Cory, Ramos – it’s only once a year. In the 90s they stopped.

So the end of the Marcos era is the start of the decline of the film industry?

The presidents now are not helping the movie industry.Rather than like Marcos with Imelda, Imelda having a Film Centre, the American producers come here. Now, no mind.