Thorns and Roces
/First published in Filipinas Magazine, April 2006.
A recent picture of Susan Roces
During the '50s and '60s when movie stars were seen as larger than life and their popularity rested on how well they carried themselves in public, Susan Roces was non pareil. It helped that she and her siblings (including younger sister, Rosemarie, who also became a popular actress) were brought up by strict parents who instilled in them the values of courtesy and hard work. It also helped in a big way that the studio that gave her an eight-year contract, Sampaguita Pictures, functioned like a convent school for its stable of stars, coaching them in the art of social graces.
"I got a college degree in behavior from Sampaguita U," Susan jokes now, glossing over the one ingredient that makes her a truly impressive lady: an exceptional intelligence that gave her the facility of language, an instinctive feel for the public pulse, and the independence of mind that alternately inspire and frustrate those who want her to assume a leading role now in the tragic-comic socio-political drama that is unfolding in the Philippines.
Love Under the Klieg Lights: Fernando Poe, Jr. and Susan Roces fell in love when they starred in movies together, at the height of their popularity in the mid-60s.
Movie Beginnings
Jesusa Sonora was 15 when she was thrust into the public eye by virtue of her signing a contract with Sampaguita, after she passed a screen test offered her when she was in the studio waiting to see in person her idol, Gloria Romero.
"I must have been very convincing," she laughingly recalls in this exclusive, freewheeling interview, "because I wasn't really acting." Part of the screen test involved a rape scene with Martin Marfil, the pockmarked villain, who genuinely scared the shy, sheltered colegiala (convent school girl) and had her screaming.
Along with her contemporaries like Amalia, Marlene Dauden and Barbara Perez, in the Sampaguita stable, the Bacolod lass who was given the screen name Susan Roces was tutored on the niceties of public behavior and promoted heavily with such leading men as Romeo Vasquez, Jose Mari and Eddie Gutierrez. She was an easy sell to the public; not only was she a natural in the light-hearted, feel-good films that Sampaguita specialized in, she also had a heartwarming presence that invited goodwill and fanaticism.
Susan became the studio's most bankable star, on a par with Amalia, and their rivalry, which was in a sense manufactured and nurtured by the hired promoters, resulted in hit after movie hit. "If Amalia had a dramatic role, my fans would demand that I appear in a dramatic role too; after I star in a comedy, Amalia had to be given one also."
In real life, she and Amalia "were okay, but we were two opposite personalities. She's the more outspoken one." Susan is the godmother of Liezl, the only daughter of Amalia and Romeo Vasquez. To illustrate how different they are, Susan recalls one incident when the feisty Amalia, exasperated with her daughter, told the latter: "You're just like your ninang (godmother), you just sit in a corner and cry."
In her eight years as a Sampaguita contract star, Susan Roces was typecast in roles that her fans loved but did not earn her the dramatic spurs that character actresses such as Marlene Dauden or Lolita Rodriguez garnered. She was "Susay, Susan, Susie," "Susanang Twist," and "Boksingera Daw," among others--the ugly duckling who would turn into a swan and be swept off her feet by the handsome leading man.
Had she been as daring as Amalia, who broke her contract with Sampaguita and went on to become an award-winning dramatic star, Susan's versatility as an actress would have been proved earlier, but loyalty was her strong trait even then, so she stayed on with the studio that made her a blockbuster star, until her contract ran out.
Rivals and Friends: An entire generation of movie fans fought over Amalia vs. Susan. The two continue to be friends, seeing each other regularly for the monthly Balik-Samahan get-togethers of former movie stars.
Life-Changing Decisions
In 1965 Susan Roces made her first movie as an independent star. It was "Ang Daigdig Ko'y Ikaw," produced by FPJ Productions and starred Fernando Poe Jr. (FPJ) himself, whom she had met earlier during a party Romeo Vasquez invited her to at the Manila Hotel.
Her loyal fans made the movie a hit, although there were many who were clinging on to the fantasy that their idol would reunite with Eddie Gutierrez, her last leading man from Sampaguita. It was not to be.
It was while making "Zamboanga," their second movie together, that FPJ and Susan became an item in real life. "Ours was not a love-at-first-sight story," she reveals. "When we met, both of us were focused on ourselves, on how to manage our careers as independent performers."
They dated for three years without much public fanfare and press scrutiny. "Times were different then," Susan explains. "There were only a few movie publications and no talk shows." Add to this the fact that both stars commanded respect from their fans and the media; thus, they were spared the gossip and innuendos that destroy relationships and add fodder to scandal sheets.
When they decided to elope on the 16th of December, 1968, it was quite a shock to fans and family because it was so uncharacteristic of her, the queen of virtue and wholesomeness. Her conservative parents were predictably outraged: why did they have to run away when they were free to see each other? They demanded a church wedding immediately so the chastised couple had to take the first date available—Christmas Day of the same year, nine days after their civil wedding.
Marriage for Susan Roces meant a voluntary semi-retirement from her highly successful career. "Ronnie did not ask me [to give it up], but I never expected to make a lifetime career out of the movies," she says. "When I was active in it, I gave it my 100 percent, so when I got married, I wanted to [give my new life] my 100 percent too."
Despite her retreat from public life, she could not completely turn her back on movie roles that challenged her. Freed now from the sugar-and-spice genre that she was associated with, Susan Roces began to take "offbeat" roles in either highly dramatic films or horror/fantasy ones, such as "Maligno" for which she won her first .FAMAS award for Best Actress in 1977, and "Gumising Ka Maruja," which won her the same award the year after.
With nothing else to prove, Susan Roces concentrated on her private life, emerging in public only very occasionally when there was a movie role she could not resist or a social event that required her presence.
Nothing prepared her for the events that put her back on the forefront of public life.
Real-Life Love Team: Susan describes Ronnie as "my protector and defender, my partner and best friend, my lover." FPJ died December 2004, almost 36 years to the day they were married.
Reluctant Campaigner
When FPJ, after a lot of prodding from supporters, finally decided to throw his hat in the presidential ring in 2004, it was widely known that his wife, Susan, was vehemently against his running. But trouper that she was, she joined the campaign with aplomb, always at her husband's side as he crisscrossed the country.
"The campaign was exciting," she admits. "We would go to several places in one day. But it was also challenging because we had to operate on a shoestring budget. And we had to contend with the intellectual snobs who were insulting my husband openly. It's sad because we are supposed to be a democratic country where everyone should be treated equal. Yung mga kulang sa aral na sumuporta kay Ronnie, sila pa ang higit na nakakaintindi ng essence ng democracy." (The less educated who supported Ronnie, they were the ones who understood better the essence of democracy.)"
Looking back, "losing" the election (as everyone knows, the results will always be in contention) was the less painful part. Her husband's sudden death from a massive stroke six months later was devastating. On a list she handwrote for entertainment columnist Ricky Lo on "64 moments" she will always remember (in commemoration of her 64th birthday last year), Susan Roces included:
"#62. The sight of my beloved (Ronnie) in his coffin, my protector and defender, my partner and best friend, my lover.
#63 Feeling my life being sucked out of me, yet I had to be strong to continue Ronnie's quest for justice.
#64 Relatives, friends and fans, and total strangers mourning Ronnie's passing. I had mixed emotions. Through it all, I had to take hold of myself, to keep being strong."
High Expectations
In the past year, the public has witnessed the feistier side of Susan Roces as she lashed out against President Arroyo for cheating in the 2004 election and lying about it (following the Garci tape revelations and Arroyo's "lapse in judgment" apology). Susan's rage, so evident on national TV, and the eloquence by which she articulated her arguments ("You have stolen the presidency, not just once but twice") sent shock waves to various circles, not only because it was a different Susan Roces they saw, but also because by showing her mettle, she became a serious contender for leadership of the hopelessly fractured opposition.
Yet, despite the pressure put on her by her husband's supporters and other anti-administration forces, Susan Roces chose to retreat once again from public life.
"I'm basically a positive person, just like Ronnie was. I don't dwell on tragedies. When I'm angry, I let off steam. Tapos na (it's over)."
Widows Two: Brought together by current circumstances, Susan Roces says she and Cory Aquino "never discussed politics" when they meet.
On a warm, humid afternoon amid the quiet hum of the air-conditioner in her reception room a few meters away from the huge house her husband built for her when they got married, a calm and gracious Susan Roces ruminates on today's realities and how she wants to live the rest of her life:
"What we are witnessing now, it would have been heartbreaking for Ronnie if he were alive today. Bakit ang tama, pinalalabas na mali at ang mali, pinalalabas na tama (Why is it that right is portrayed as wrong and wrong is portrayed as right)? Life is becoming harder, values are slowly eroding and there's nothing to inspire anyone to be a hero.
"It's not right to be indifferent, to not care [about what's happening]. But it's also not right to poke one's finger on something one will not be able to handle eventually. I told [those who are asking her to take the lead], if I agree with your choice [of action] I will join you.
"I really don't know what I will be doing in the next few years. I am just an ordinary citizen with no educational background to brag of. At this point I just want to enjoy my retirement. I have long prepared for quieter days. Maybe I will write my memoirs."
Two days later, as "emergency rule" was declared and there were talks that she was on the arrest list, Susan Roces was forced to come out once again to denounce the move. It was as Filipinas columnist Jose Dalisay Jr. predicted: "Have we heard the last from and of Susan Roces? Don't bet on it. The reluctant heroes and heroines are always the more sincere and the more interesting, and as dramatic plots go, this one is far from over, and we can be sure that Susan Roces will have a say in its final outcome."
Maybe, just maybe, the country will be better for it.
[SIDEBAR]
“Why is your head higher than mine?”
By Greg B. Macabenta
Photo (Circa 1961) shows Susan Roces (3rd from right) as a guest star in a radio program directed by Greg Macabenta (in white, beside her). Also in photo is LVN star Tony Santos, Sr. (2nd from left, with eyeglasses)
That was how the publicity machine of Sampaguita Pictures, under Doc Jose "Pinggot" Perez, presented 15-year-old Jesusa Sonora to the movie-going public. That set her apart from two other hot finds of the studio, Mr. and Miss Number One, Juancho Gutierrez and Amalia Fuentes.
Sampaguita, on Gilmore Avenue in New Manila, had the prettiest and handsomest stars and starlets in its stable, but Susan Roces stood out, not just for her physical assets but also for what she had between her ears.
I was a movie reporter freelancing for Kislap Graphic when I first met Susan at Sampaguita. I had befriended Armando Garces, then the hottest film director on the Gilmore lot, and he had arranged a story and screenplay assignment for me at nearby LVN Pictures. Everyday, after my work at LVN I would rush over to hang around Manding's set at Sampaguita.
Susan didn't have the usual airs of a "new discovery" and was always beaming with a welcoming smile, always gracious, never haughty or cross.
Anyone who has seen how movie people work will swear that it's not easy to be nice. Night and day shooting, memorizing dialogue, suffering under the klieg lights and dealing with fans can wreak havoc on the sunniest disposition. I don't recall Susan ever being less than bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
I guess it was because both of us were teenagers that Susan and I got along. The movie industry is more famous for good-looking people than for intelligent ones. That made Susan exceptional. She was both. Carrying on a conversation with her was a pleasurable exercise.
"The King and I" had just been shown in Manila. My favorite line from that movie was Yul Brynner's sharp rebuke of Deborah Kerr, when she stood above the seated monarch: "Why is your head higher than mine?"
Because Susan was taller than I was, I would use that line on her whenever we met: "You—why is your head higher than mine?"
That would crack her up. It became a private joke.
In the early '60s, while already working for an advertising agency and writing and co-directing "Sa Linggo Ang Bola," a weekly radio program on Station DZXL, I would occasionally invite Susan for a guest appearance. Even at that point, we would continue the private joke.
It would be over 40 years later that I would see Susan Roces again. And the circumstances were not conducive to cracking a joke. It was at the wake of her husband, Fernando Poe, Jr.
Susan had kept a very low profile from the time she stopped making movies for Sampaguita and had settled down as Mrs. Poe. It was not until Ronnie decided to run for president that she emerged again.
The years had not exacted a toll on her. In her media appearances, it was obvious she had not lost her beauty, her welcoming smile and her graciousness. When Ronnie died, her grief became all the more apparent on her quiet countenance.
I happened to be in Manila at the time of Ronnie's death. Still feeling part of the movie industry, I decided to go to Santo Domingo Church to pay my respects.
It was like a homecoming, albeit, sad. People I had not seen for decades were milling around, talking about old times. Caridad Sanchez. Bernard Bonnin. Dolphy. Butch Bautista. Alona Alegre. Some I could no longer recognize. Age had been cruel on them. Others, like Eddie Garcia, for whom I wrote the screenplays of many 'Agent X44" movies, had succeeded in keeping time on hold.
And then there was Susan.
When she entered the church, there was a respectful hush. Her face was wan. She was obviously tired from having to deal with the details of the funeral. But there was still that warm smile, that quiet grace.
I wasn't sure she would still recognize me. But I went up to her, nonetheless, to express my sympathy.
"Hi Susan," I began. "I'm not sure you still remember me?”
Her eyes lit up. "Why is your head higher than mine?"
That cracked me up. "You remember!"
"Of course I do, Greg," she replied, mustering a smile, "That's our code, isn't it?"
Moments like that can make even a sad funeral wake happy.
