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.

Pablo Vergara article

Pablo Vergara (at right) with Mar Lopez and Mayor ER Ejercito during the 2008 FAP Voters screening at the UP Film Center

MEET WENG WENG'S COMPOSER: PABLO VERGARA

["Pablo - The Composer" article by Alex J. Socorro posted 17/11/07 on the Film Academy Of The Philippines website]

It may be a coincidence that the Film Academy of the Philippines has three Pablos in its roster. Already published in this website are articles about Pablo S. Gomez and Pablo Reyna Libiran.

Pablo Gomez is the renowned scriptwriter and popular komiks novelist who is also the president of the Screenwriters’ Guild of the Philippines (SGP). Pablo Reyna Libiran was the Poet Laureate from Bulacan who was the vice president of SGP. Pabling to his friends, Libiran passed away recently due to a stroke.

The third Pablo is Pablo Vergara, the lyricist, arranger, musical director, musical conductor and also film director. Especially during the days of the song hits and Jingle Song magazine, the name of Direk Pablo was in consonance with Tagalog hits.

The older generation would surely remember Bakit Ako Mahihiya? which was the signature song of Didith Reyes. There was also Imelda Papin’s Mahal, Saan Ka Nanggaling Kagabi? Geraldine has her Bakit Ikaw Pa? and Anthony Castelo’s Babae, Ugat ng Pagkakasala.

Now, Pablo comes out with his very own album, an instrumental compilation of popular Tagalog Christmas Songs. The musician is not expecting anything from the said album because he had produced the collection not for commercial purposes but only for personal satisfaction. Purely acoustic in sound, Pablo exhibits his guitar skills and talents in all the tracks.

Pablo’s composition Pasko Na Naman is the cover track but it has another version in the last track. The complete list of compilations with the original composers are:

1. Namamasko – R. Tagalog and Levi Celerio

2. Pasko na Naman – Pablo Vergara

3. Pasko ng Madla – F. San Juan, S. Y. Ramos

4. Simbang Gabi – S. Y. Ramos, R. Tagalog

5. Sino Si Santa Klaus? – R. Tagalog, S. Y. Ramos

6. Kampana ng Simbahan – J. Silos, Jr.

7. Sa Tuwing Sasapit ang Pasko – Pablo Vergara

8. Sa Paskong Darating – S. Y. Ramos

9. Mano Po Ninong, Mano Po Ninang – A. Torres, M. P. Villar Sr.

10. Damdaming Pasko – J. Silos, Jr., S. Y. Ramos

11. Ang Pasko Ay Sumapit – V. Rubi, Levi Celerio

12. Finale: Pasko na Naman – Pablo Vergara

Pasko na Naman, the Christmas album, is distributed by Centra Musicmart, Philippines. Pablo Vergara has recorded more than 70 albums.

At an early age, Pablo was already playing the guitar even before entering school. He came under the tutelage of Prof. Rufino Palma and was also a member of the Sta. Rita Institute band in his Pampanga hometown.

Aside from his natural flair for music, Pablo obtained a formal training in Naval School of Music where he specialized in musical arrangement. This is the process where the composer selects the instruments to be used.

He also indicates the details of the participation of each instrument in the musical arrangement. Some of Pablo’s well-known professors were Restie Umali, Doming Amarillo and Polding Silos who were all great musicians in their own time.

Pablo’s first big break came with his composition God Knows. With the interpretation of Randy Madrid, the song was adapted into a movie with the same title which was produced by Larry Santiago Productions. With the success of God Knows, Pablo became the youngest musical director at the age of 18.

In the pursuit of his profession, Pablo composed more than 200 songs and has scored more than 100 movies. Another chore of a musical director is the selection or composition, if necessary, of the theme song. One of his favorite theme songs was Katumbas ay Buhay which was used in the movie Vendetta, with Rudy Fernandez and Rosemarie De Vera in the lead.

He used to be the musical director of the Rey and Carding tandem, popularly known as the Reycard Duet who were a great success in the Las Vegas scene. Other singing talents who were under the musical baton of Pablo were Manilyn Reynes and Eddie Mesa. Pablo even accompanied Eddie Mesa in his Canada tour where Pablo had the opportunity to be the conductor of Canadian musicians.

For the record, Pablo was the first ever in-house composer and musical director of Dyna Recording Company. He had also worked with other recording studios like Alpha Records, Vicor Recording, Synergy, Viva Records, BMG and Universal Records. Now he can be considered to have joined the ranks of his idol musicians like Prof. Josefino Cenizal, Tito Arevalo, Ernani Cuenco, Francisco Buencamino, Leopoldo Silos, Juan Silos and Restie Umali.

Aside from his musical conquests, Pablo had directed three movies, all starred in by Fernando Poe, Jr. Of course, he had composed the theme songs and also did the scoring. Mahal, Saan Ka Nanggaling Kagabi and Mahal, Ginagabi Ka na Naman both featured the husband/wife team-up of Fernando Poe, Jr. and Susan Roces from the story of Pablo Gomez and script by Fred Navarro. Eseng ng Tondo has Ina Raymundo and Jenny Syquia as leading ladies of FPJ, another Pablo Gomez story with the screenplay written by Manny Buising.

For those three FPJ movies mentioned, Pablo earned a nomination from the FAMAS for musical scoring and theme song. He was also an Awit Awardee in 1990.

At present, Pablo is Vice Chairman of UFIMDAP (United Filipino Musical Directors Association of the Philippines). He was once a member of the board of directors of FILSCAP (Filipino Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers).

Corliss Randall interview 2008

THE DICK AND WENG SHOW

Corliss Randall discusses her late husband Dick Randall's involvement with For Y'ur Height Only (phone interview with Andrew Leavold, 6th March 2008)

Dick Randall has always been one of those wonderful fringe characters in cult filmdom – a truly eccentric B-film producer in the classic roadshow mould whose marketing hooks and gimmicks created some of the most bizarre genre titles in existence. In a career that straddled three continents and five decades right up until his passing in 1996, he was the High Priest of Hyperbole who conjured up sex films (Black Deep Throat and a whole string of ratty-ended Emanuelle titles), horror films (the Spanish-made Pieces with the classic tag-line “You don’t have to go to Texas for a chainsaw massacre!”), kung fu (exploitative Bruce Lee ripoffs starring Bruce Le, Bruce Li, Dragon Lee, culminating in the granddaddy of all Bruceploitation titles The Clones Of Bruce Lee)… You name the then-popular fad, and you’ll find an idiosyncratic Dick Randall redux. And for the last twenty years of his film career, his wife Corliss was at his side, making deals from a suitcase full of cash, and occasionally while fleeing the country from an overly enthusiastic local official brandishing a pistol.

Dick Randall’s involvement in Weng Weng’s first international film For Y’ur Height Only has always been a mystery to me, and so getting the opportunity to talk to Corliss over the phone from her home in London was a golden moment to fill in some of the missing pieces of the Weng Weng puzzle. We spoke for over an hour about her career behind AND in front of the camera (she appears alongside Bruce Lee in Ninja Strikes Back as a kung-fu kicking reporter billed in the credits as “Chick Norris”!), and the complete transcript will no doubt appear in full on our French friends’ site Nanarland in a few weeks. Meanwhile, here are some of Corliss’ insights into Dick’s working relationship with the one and only Agent 00.

[Major thanks go to Pete Tombs at Mondo Macabro for passing on Corliss’ email address, for the screen captures from his "Wild Wild World Of Dick Randall" documentary on Mondo Macabro’s French Sex Murders DVD, and for his endless support of the Search For Weng Weng project. And of course, many thanks to Corliss for donating her time in an incredibly open and honest discussion on her and her late husband’s careers.]

Corliss: I never saw Dick turn away a bum… He had a wonderful, wonderful heart. He was very brusque on the surface. My husband was very prickly and scary, but once you got to know him, underneath all that he was a sweetheart. He scared everybody on the surface. He was never really “out there” – I’ve always been “out there” – but he was “in there”. He used to write music and everything, wrote a lot of those scripts. He wrote for the Post when he was a young boy, did you know that? And he used to write for Milton Berle.

Andrew: What made you and Dick decide to go to the Philippines?

We got invited by Marcos, because Dick was one of the big film buyers in the area. We got invited to stay at the Imperial Hotel, and I got to go to Marcos’ tailor – I had about four things made!

Before long you were MAKING films in the Philippines.

Yeah, well Dick had the opportunity to do it. I’ll tell you one thing that happened – one day we had a guy, I guess he was second in command to the director, he took one of the those jeepneys and they saw this poor man with a watch on. They took him out into a rice paddy and put a gun to his head and threatened to kill him. Over a watch! It’s a scary place…

Do you remember the moment you became aware of Weng Weng?

He was sitting in Dick’s lap in his office – I have a photo of that somewhere! Weng Weng was a very nice man, very sweet. And the nice thing about it is, Dick really understood the nature of what Weng Weng was all about. And he cherished it. Dick was never interested in the “usual”. The way Dick made his movies, he always took the things that had happened that were important to him, that had some momentum to them, and he’d reinvent it. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t, but sometimes it REALLY worked. Weng Weng was so successful, sold around the world. Nobody had ever done that before, had they? That’s far out, isn’t it?

No-one had ever seen a midget James Bond!

The unusualness of it, Dick was really into all that. He was also doing a study at the same time about the Siamese twins who had about fifteen wives between them. He wanted to do that too – Dick was far out.

Dick on the set with Bruce Le (left) and Brad Harris

How did he discover Weng Weng? Was For Y’ur Height Only already finished?

Dick put up money to produce it. He was one of the producers. He bought a territory of the world when they (Peter and Cora Caballes) wanted to produce it.

They made one James Bond knockoff before that called Agent 00 (1981). It was only ever in Tagalog. I guess he would’ve seen that, then decided to sell the next one to the world.

And Dick bought the world. They called him Agent 003 and a half…?

Originally he was called Agent 00, but I’ve seen that on certain posters.

Very nice, huh? If I know Dick, that would have been one of his ideas.

So in return, you got the worldwide rights?

We got a part of the world. He put up $30-$40,000 for America, Europe and everywhere he could sell it.

Do you remember Jim Gaines? He was one of the voices on For Y’ur Height Only. He told me they sat in a dubbing studio for three days drinking beer and pretty much making it up as they went along!

That’s good, isn’t it? It’s more original and more fun.

It takes the film to a surreal new level.

Well that’s what we do before a gig. We have a couple of drinks and get down to the music. It’s magic then, isn’t it?

"Chick Norris" in action! From the Bruce Le-starrer Ninja Strikes Back (1982)

That’s exactly what those guys were doing – they were riffing like crazy.

That’s the magic. That’s what I think artists are about. Did Weng Weng get married?

No. To tell you the truth, I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend. He had the mental age of a ten year old.

Oh, I didn’t know that. I know Dick wasn’t the type of person to take advantage of anybody, so I’m sure Dick was very good to him. I’m sure if he needed anything, Dick would’ve just given it to him.

How many times did you run into Weng?

Only about five or six times, but only with Dick. He was always monopolizing the situation, I was just in the background. I came into the foreground after Dick died out of desperation and loneliness, I decided to go back to my career. Everybody said, “How can you go back to your career so late in life?” I said, “You watch me!” They said, “You’ll never get anything because people don’t take on older…” Guess what? I’ve been singing for eleven years! I haven’t done too bad, have I? I’m singing with Amy Winehouse! Were his brothers small like him?

No, he was special. Imee Marcos (the late President’s daughter) said there was something that radiated from him that made you fall in love with him.

My husband loved him… Dick was never gay, but he liked him enough to put him in his lap.

So he really felt a bizarre connection with Weng?

Yeah, very much so. Dick thought he was adorable, that he was a phenomenon. Dick loved all these phenomena – anything to do with what we humans conceive as “unnatural”. That’s what he went to, ‘cause that’s how he looked at life.

There was an incredible humanity about Weng.

But that’s good, isn’t it? I always believe in this rule: if life doesn’t give you certain things, you will get all these other things. I think life compensates itself.

I totally agree.

Whatever you do in the arts, don’t you think you’re compensating for what you don’t have?

It is a trade-off, but probably against things that aren’t that important. Why wasn’t Dick involved in Weng’s later films? Why did the Caballes go it alone?

They could probably go it alone as it was so successful.

For Y’ur Height Only was, the other two export titles weren’t as successful.

I think Dick would’ve branched into something else. Dick stopped going to the Philippines, and they didn’t offer (the sequels). I think Dick would have done one, if he was successful he would’ve pursued it. But he would’ve covered his costs, made his earnings on it, and then just walked off to do something else. Dick was very much into horror films, with the makers of Friday the 13th. And I think Dick was in England, and the marketplace (for kung fu films) had dried up. At least when we were doing movies, you’d get a territory that was doing something, and then something else. So I think Dick would’ve gone where the money was.

Interview with Weng Weng's brother Celing de la Cruz

The only person who can tell the REAL Weng Weng story: an interview with Weng Weng’s only surviving relative, his brother Celing.


Cecilio (“Celing”) de la Cruz: My mother and father are gone, everyone’s gone. I’m the only one left. Everyone got sick.

Andrew: Where is the family from?

Celing: In Baclaran, that’s where I was born and grew up. We lived in that small house when we were young. I went elsewhere, I moved here (to Pasay City). When I came back to Baclaran, Weng Weng was still alive.

Me filming Weng Weng's childhood home, Baclaran

We were born with nothing. When he was an actor, our house was a Nipa (dried palm leaves) hut. When he died, we still lived in a hut. The floor was about to collapse to the ground. I had the old home repaired because it was dangerous to live there – the roof was made of Nipa. When Weng Weng died, we were able to get some money from Standard (insurance company). That’s where I got the money to fix the roof.

Weng Weng's birth certificate

Weng Weng was born Ernesto de la Cruz to parents Felix and Rita de la Cruz, the youngest of five brothers (eldest Arturo, then Benjamin, Cecilio and Danilo), on 9^th September 1957 in Balacaran, a district of Pasay City, now part of the sprawling 17-city Metro Manila. A condition known as primordial dwarfism caused him to be born, in the words of his brother Celing, “as small as the small Coke bottle”.

Mother of Perpetual Help

When our mother was pregnant (with Weng Weng) she was very fond of the Mother of Perpetual Help…. My mother went to Redentores (Mother of Perpetual Help church, the patron saint of Baclaran) every day. Children craved after (the Mother of Perpetual Help) seldom survive. So when Weng Weng was born in our house, he was very small. He was put in a shoebox with a fluorescent light for more than a year so he could live. He was as small as the small Coke bottle. Weng Weng is the only small one in our family. Everyone else, cousins, grandparents, children, nephews, are big.

Ernesto was not expected to live. Naturally, it was declared a miracle when he did, and in a country that venerates miraculous acts of faith, it is no surprise that Weng Weng was dressed as the Christ-child figure at the head of Baclaran’s yearly Santo Nino parade. His family nicknamed him Weng Weng, an epiphet usually reserved for toy dogs.

"Santo Nino", the Little Saint

Was he a naughty child?

Naughty. Really naughty. The laundry wire connects our window to our neighbour’s window, he would always walk across it. People see him on the clothesline, like monkeybars! He liked to tumble when he was a kid. Because his arms were big and he could easily carry his light body. Sometimes we fought karate for fun.

Was he devout?

My mother always brought him along whenever she went to Church. Before show business, he used to dress up as the Santo Nino. He was invited to fiestas, to attract audiences. A lot of people came to see him. He never went to school.

Eddie Nicart told us he was a cigarette vendor.

He never sold cigarettes.

He never worked?

My mother never let him work. My mother just told him to play all day.

Weng Weng's childhood playmate outside family home in Baclaran

How was he discovered?

A karate instructor brought Peter Caballes to Weng Weng. Then they talked to our mother about Weng Weng making movies. The karate instructors were fond of him, like everyone, so they taught him.

How old was he then?

He started karate at 18 years. He was almost 20 when he met Peter Caballes. He was always with Peter Caballes.

Where did the Caballes come from?

Peter Caballes is from Liliw, Laguna. He and Cora used to live here in Pandacan.

Peter and his wife, the successful businesswoman Cora Ridon Caballes, took Weng Weng on the rounds of film producers, including Bobby A. Suarez, whose novelty kiddie films The Bionic Boy (1977) and Dynamite Johnson: The Bionic Boy Part 2 (1978) were already international hits. Suarez turned down the idea of Weng Weng as a midget Superman, but successful indie producer/director Luis San Juan, who specialized in kung fu films for the export market, cast Weng Weng in a cameo in a film whose name is now lost to the sands of time. The Caballes’ own Liliw Productions also bankrolled the martial arts comedy Chop-Suey Met Big Time Papa (released February 1978), and cast Weng opposite legendary Filipino comedian Ramon Zamora.

At first he appeared as an extra. He then made movies with Dolphy. He also met Imelda. Then he starred in his own films.

Eddie Nicart, director of Weng Weng's five starring roles, shows how Weng jumped off a seven storey building with an umbrella

What was the first movie he starred in?

Agent 00 (1981) was the first movie. He made a lot of movies. He was always the lead.

The 1982 Manila International Film Festival was designed by First Lady Imelda Marcos as an elaborate showcase of Filipino culture. To everyone’s horror, the only film that sold to the world was a midget spy film – a miniature mockery of Western pop iconography, and a joyously naïve celebration of Filipino Goon Cinema - called For Y’ur Height Only.

Weng Weng became an instant superstar, appearing on TV and at parties, film festivals, movie openings. Liliw Productions quickly cranked out a much less successful Agent OO sequel, The Impossible Kid (1982), and a modern Pinoy western D’Wild Wild Weng (1982), starring Weng Weng as a government agent known as “Mr Weng”, which doesn’t appear to have made it beyond the Philippines borders.

Do you remember the ones he was an extra in?

I can’t remember how many films he acted in.

Weng Weng with For Y'ur Height Only's distributor Dick Randall

What’s your favourite moment from your brother’s films?

My favourite stunt is with the umbrella.

Did he live with the Caballes?

He just took a vacation in Peter’s house, he never lived there. Just for two weeks or so. Also during shooting and promotions. When he got a stroke, it was here at home.

Did being a star ever go to his head?

He never changed when he became a star. Because he was a simple guy who didn’t actually study. His joy is shallow – little gifts, trips – what he was when he was small, he never changed. He always greets people wherever he is. Wherever he went, people were fond of him. After work he goes home, plays – just like a kid.

People say he got offended when people treated him like a little boy.

He didn’t get offended even if people tease him. Some even tried to get him to do monkey bars on their arms, and he did!

Celing and I in jeepney

He never splurged. He died poor. He wasn’t able to give us gifts, even his mother. He never handled his money; Peter Caballes did all the transactions. He just gave Weng Weng change, pocket money, that’s it. Our mother was just happy he was enjoying doing something.

Rumours still circulate about Weng’s talents with “the ladies”. I even got a late night text from director Peque Gallaga: “Dude! I just remembered – Weng Weng was married for two weeks to actress Elizabeth Oropesa!” Seventies wet-look starlet Oropesa, I discover later, was actually married to Hong Kong kung fu superstar Wang Yu. Such is the power of urban legend, faulty memories, and almost non-existent film histories.

Was Ernesto ever married?

He never got married. He never had a girlfriend. Girls just like him.

As the profits diminished, Cora Caballes moved on to a political career and Liliw Productions folded. As a result, Weng Weng found himself no longer flavour of the month and without a film career.

When did he stop making movies?

He stopped in the Eighties.

Weng Weng in paratrooper uniform, photo provided by a childhood friend in Baclaran

He really liked doing stunts. He even became a real agent with an authentic gun. The small (25 callibre) gun called the Senorita. When there’s a raid, he’s the first one who enters. During the time of Ramos. He used to be stationed as an Agent at Manila International Airport, and authorized to carry a gun by President Ramos during his term. Because Pete’s wife Cora is a relative, they brought him to Ramos. Ramos was fond of him.

After the movie phase, he just stayed at home. And that’s when he got an attack. He was sleeping then.

Why did Weng Weng fade into obscurity?

He was quiet because he was sick. And we’re not a family of actors. So we can’t really do anything (to promote him). So when he got sick, that was it. And Peter Caballes never came around anymore. No reporters came to interview him.

Celing's jeepney outside his Pasay City house

When he got sick, Peter Caballes sent him money sometimes. But the truth is, even when he got famous, our way of living never changed, we never got rich. Sometimes we ate, sometimes we didn’t. It’s OK. Not like some actors who bought stuff (with their money) as soon as they could. We were never like that, we never even got our house fixed. Not even the window. We never got filthy rich. Just simple living, eating three times a day.

When he got sick, he lost his connections with the media .The Weng Weng imposters came up, appearing on TV. I never believed it ‘cos I was the brother. Even after his death, the media made it appear he was still alive, with these impostors.

He continued to live in the family home in Baclaran, gained weight and, according to some reports, drank heavily, and developed hypertension after a severe reaction to eating crabmeat. His health declined steadily over the next twelve to eighteen months.

He got sick with high blood pressure. His brother brought home crabs for dinner. Weng Weng ate one. Next day he was rushed to the hospital. He got well. He still stayed at home.

Did he fall into a coma?

He wasn’t comatose. He was able to walk, he was in therapy for more than a year. In the end, he died.

Weng Weng's death certificate

Weng Weng passed away on 29^th August 1992. His death certificate lists the cause of death as “cardiac arrest due to hypertension”.

Celing: When Weng Weng died, Peter Caballes took care of the cost of the funeral. A lot of people went to his funeral. Lotis Key was there.

The Philippines’ tiniest film icon is buried in a modest white concrete tomb with his parents, grandparents and great-grandmother in Pasay City Cemetary.