A very rare interview with Gerardo "Gerry" de Leon with film historian and archivist Hammy Sotto, published in two parts in the Philippines Daily Express in 1977.
Hammy: What were your first experiences with movies?
Gerry: When I was still wearing knee-high pants, I used to play the piano at the Cine Moderno. I played in the morning while Ariston Avelino played in the afternoon and evening. I improvised a lot sometimes without any connection to the film. When I felt sleepy, my playing would start to whirr and the owner would shout from the balcony. I would return to my normal hammering.
I accompanied such films like The Perils Of Pauline, The Volga Boatmen and The Bridge Of Sighs – an Italian picture where someone gets blinded. I must have strained my eyes there, the screen being too close to my eyes.
I earned 25 centavos an hour which amounted to P2.50 a day. That was certainly more than a government employee’s salary in those days. My mother kept the money and left me five centavos for my merienda. Ariston Avelino must have earned more. He wore a tie and was accompanied by violins. They had a mini-orchestra for the evening performances in those days.
I was a movie addict. Even after playing ten hours as accompanist, I would still be watching the movie. When I was missing at home, my mother would send my brother to look for me at the moviehouse. By then, the theater was already padlocked and my brother would insist to the caretaker that I was still there. True enough, they would find me sprawled on the floor, asleep, having been too engrossed in the film.
What happened when sound came?
When the Al Jolson movies appeared there was a craze for talkies. We who used to play in front of the screen now found ourselves behind it dubbing the movie. We dubbed both English and Tagalog movies. Sometimes there…
[Hammy Sotto, “Gerry de Leon’s ‘Every Shot Should Be Something New’”, Philippines Daily Express 20/06/77, p.37]
...were no scripts so we had to improvise. I remember one scene where I had to say with a manly voice, “Iniibig kita,” and immediately after, with all my feminine drama, I answered, “ Iniibig kita.”
How did you start in film?
Sometime in 1937 – I am not too sure of the date – Jose Nepomuceno made a movie of the play I was acting in. I think it was Pusong Dakila. He took the whole cast – Rosario Moreno, Jose Padilla Jr. We were playing at the Manila Grand Opera House with my uncle, Mar Esmeralda, as director.
You started then as an actor?
I also wrote scripts. I was studying medicine at the UST. It paid for my schooling. My classmate was Ramon Estella, though he did not finish. We were later surprised to see each other in the movies.
Medicine and movies – they’re miles apart.
My cousins are lawyers, yet they are in the movies. It is in the blood.
I replaced Don Danon as director of Bahay Kubo with Ernesto Vallejo, the violinist and Fely Vallejo, who later became my wife. My first solo effort was Ama’t Anak. It was produced by Pilar Hidalgo Lim of Parlatone Hispano. Tito Arevalo, my brother, was the son while I was the father. Leon Ma. Guerrero saw it and called me a genius in a review.
Among your pre-war movies, I only know of Panambitan with Carmen Rosales and Rogelio de la Rosa and Prinsesa Sa Kumintang. What were your other movies?
I cannot remember their titles now. I didn’t make that many movies before the war. I remember two films both scripted by Eddie Romero – Ang Maestra with Nena del Rosario and Anong Ganda Mo. Eddie was only 16, 17 at the time.
The Tribune, 25th July 1944, p.3
What did you do during the Japanese occupation?
I directed Pugo and Togo at the Life Theater. Bert Avellana was staging his plays at the Avenue. During that time, all the movie equipment and film stock were placed in a central exchange called the Eiga Heisuka. I think they occupied the Heacock Building in Escolta.
Did you direct any films?
I was approached to help a famous Japanese director. His name was Abe Yutaka. I was very hesitant as I had many friends among the guerillas. I tried to use my practice of medicine as an excuse. But they said, “There are many doctors but only one film director.” It was very flattering. This Japanese director was the personal friend of Cecil B. de Mille. He studied under him. He has a Japanese leading lady who used to be a radio announcer in Canada. They also took Leopoldo Salcedo. Now Leopoldo was a rebel but they forced him. Others in the cast were Angel Esmeralda, Fernando Poe Sr and Frankie Gordon. Frankie used to dub for Rogelio de la Rosa in his singing films. The film was entitled The Dawn Of Freedom. It had a scene where someone stepped on an American flag.
Wasn’t there another film made – Tatlong Maria?
After that I was again approached to help another Japanese director. He always used to bite his nails. I was an assistant director on that movie. It starred Liwayway Arceo, the writer. She was very reluctant to act but they forced her. She had a memorable dance number in that movie. After the war, the Americans rounded all of us and investigated us for collaboration.
A print of Tatlong Maria has been found still intact in a cabinet.
They should protect the film as its emulsions may fade.
Your first film after the war was So Long America (1946) for Sampaguita Pictures. You changed its title from Kundiman Ng Lahi.
It was scripted by Eddie Romero and was about a love affair between an American GI and a Filipina. It was made when the GIs were finally leaving Manila. I got the title from a Reader’s Digest article I was then reading.
You followed that with Isumpa Mo Giliw, Mameng Iniibig Kita and Bulaklak At Parupuro.
[Hammy Sotto, “Gerry de Leon’s ‘Every Shot Should Be Something New’”, Philippines Daily Express 20/06/77, p.39]
...puro was based on the music of Santiago Suarez. It starred Rosa del Rosario and Rogelio de la Rosa. Isumpa Mo Giliw was a Hitchcockian musical. Elsa Oria flew to the States for a musical engagement and lost her memory. That was new, a musical twist.
You then had a number of films touching on Philippine history: Padre Burgos, Tayug (Ang Batang Api)…
Tayug was the forerunner of the present Robert Arevalo movie Hubad Na Bayani. It deals with the peasant revolts in Pangasinan. I got an award for best character actor in that film from a women’s organization.
Also Kumander Sundang, Diego Silang, Sisa.
Diego Silang was also scripted by Eddie Romero. I remember having sold the property to Raymundo Navarro of Parlatone. He didn’t make a movie out of it so I bought it back. It had a beautiful ending. It had a speech by Gabriela Silang which ran for 5-6 minutes. Now that would have been very boring so I had a very slow dolly moving in on Leila Morena starting from the crowd. As the camera approached her shoulders, she raised her hand and revealed the head of Diego Silang. It was both shocking and effective. The speech is now used in declamation contests in school.
I remember also having experimented with taped sound in that film. Before they used to scratch the sound onto the film. The new system had just arrived and I thought I would use it. I rehearsed Leila Morena for days until she was word perfect. The scene was beautifully shot.
Didn’t you practice dubbing at that time?
I was the first one who experimented with dubbing in the Philippines. I was then at Premiere. We were wondering why the British movies had such clear, crisp sound. We found out that they dubbed their films. The Americans preferred to record live on tape. They wanted you to hear all the accompanying noises. You sacrificed clarity for that as the boom mike was many feet away. As in the case of Paul Muni. Some American films were dubbed though. I think Alan Ladd was dubbed. It wasn’t his voice that you heard. Also with Clark Gable. He had a lisp in his early films due to poor teeth.
What about Doble Cara, 48 Oras, 10th Batalyon Sa Korea?
When I was in Saigon, I came across a movie poster with someone who looked like Efren Reyes. I peeped inside the moviehouse and, true enough, it was my 10th Batalyon Sa Korea playing. I remember having made an English version though this one was expertly dubbed in Mandarin. You’d think Efren Reyes was a Chinese actor. That was the time when Filipino movies were exported all over Asia.
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| Hong Kong ad for Dyesebel (1953) |
We used to have a big film market in Indonesia.
Cirio Santiago made a lot of money there with Sawa... He had trouble though getting the money out of the country.
Banga Ni Zamadar and Pedro Penduko were the other fantasy films which you made. There was a trend for costume epics during that time: Sigfriedo, Siete Infantes de Lara, Genghis Khan, Prinsipe Amante, Sohrab At Rustum.
Manuel Conde’s Genghis Khan was a great movie. It won an award at the Venice Film Festival. Botong Francisco designed the sets, the tents, the costumes, even the hairdos. He paid so much attention to detail.
Why aren’t such movies made anymore?
My favourite complaint is that our films are always underbudgeted. It is unfair to the Filipino artist. What is Cecil B. de Mille without his grandeur? Here producers have heart attacks when the budget reaches P1.5 million. What is that compared to what the Chinese spend, the Russians, the Americans?
What should be done?
The government should subsidize films.
What caused the deterioration of our film production in the late Fifties?
Our films were dominated by the star system. When the stars started freelancing, they demanded huge salaries which the studios could not afford. What happened next was the proliferation of independent producers. Then moviemaking was a case of apurahan. How can you do a good film if your playdate is the following day?
What about the technicians? They didn’t train any newcomers.
In those days there were no books on the craft. The cameraman didn’t allow you to look through the viewfinder. The editor didn’t allow you to touch the film. You had to be their apprentice for a long time. There was a shortcut though. One could become a director overnight. Naturally, the cameraman would ask you to look through the viewfinder; the editor would ask you to sit with him in the cutting of the film. That was how I learned the tricks of the trade.
[Hammy Sotto, “Gerry de Leon’s ‘Every Shot Should Be Something New’”, Philippines Daily Express 23/06/77, p.26]
You won a FAMAS statuette for best editing in Huwag Mo Akong Limutin.
The censors mutilated the picture. It was ahead of its time. Five years later, Italian movies of a similar nature were playing in Manila. Huwag... treated such topics as impotence, unfaithfulness. I even had a city boy vs provincial bred theme in it.
There is an anecdote in the banning of Huwag... Mrs Pilar Hidalgo Lim was one of the censors. She produced my first movies. She knew me for an artist but this time she decided against the movie. The film was banned though it was later recut. 
Huwag Mo Akong Limutin
Huwag... was an entry to the Asian Film Festival held in Manila in 1961. However, it lost out to Yasujiro Ozu’s Late Autumn.
The jurors saw the censored version. I hope they haven’t thrown away the cuts. Sometimes the editor would cut the negative to avoid having to go through all the prints one by one. This is a bad practice because morality changes. What was unacceptable then would become commonplace later on.
That was the time when you had to consult the Legion of Decency for its ratings on movies.
I had trouble with women’s leagues, groups, organizations. I had many problems with the censors after that. They used to call me “Mr Sexy.” At that time, “sexy” was a derogatory word, not the flattery as it is now. When they learned they would be reviewing one of my pictures, they would say, “eto na naman kami.”
I had censor problems with Noli and Fili. In El Filibusterismo, I had Oscar Keesee, the priest, lower his hands down the shoulders of Charito Solis to half an inch away from her breasts. The censors didn’t agree with the measurement.
This was very discouraging. A director becomes a coward as his films are continuously censored. He is less daring in his ideas. He begins to compromise. I think I could have been another Satyajit Ray, maybe another Ingmar Bergman, hadn’t the censors interfered.
You have a number of award-winning films: Ang Bagong Umaga, Ifugao, The Moises Padilla Story, Hanggang Sa Dulo Ng Daigdig, Noli Me Tangere, El Filibusterismo, Lilet and Daigdig Ng Maga Api. What would you consider to be your testament?
I like Noli... and Fili... a lot. I would like to recut it as what Coppola is doing now with the two Godfathers. It’s a shame that Pancho Magalona replaced Eddie del Mar in Fili... I was originally planning to condense the two books into one film. There was always a line which I hated to leave out. I confided my dilemma to two Filipinos but they could not advise me. Finally it was a German who told me, “Edit Rizal.”
In an interview, you said you were influenced by John Ford in the films. I see this in your ceiling shots and your landscapes.
I was influenced by John Ford in the long shots. I shot the ceiling because it was interesting. If you have a lovely chandelier, by all means, show it.
Let us go to your “Hollywood” period. You made films here for foreign companies abroad.
Eddie Romero didn’t want to make the sequel to Women In Chains [actually The Big Doll House (1971); Gerry's sequel was Women In Cages (1971)]. Cirio Santiago got me instead. Pam Grier was my star. In...
[Hammy Sotto, “Gerry de Leon’s ‘Every Shot Should Be Something New’”, Philippines Daily Express 23/06/77, p.27]
...fact she started with me. She was earning something like $100 a week at that time.
You also produced a number of horror movies – Ibulong Mo Sa Hanging [Curse Of The Vampires], Kulay Dugo Ng Gabi [The Blood Drinkers].
In Kulay Dugo Ng Gabi, we had an extra 5000 feet left over from another movie. They wanted me to use it for a sequence – like in those musical films where you have the musical numbers in color. I decided to shoot the day scenes in color and the night scenes in black and white. Later I had the night scenes tinted in blue and the scenes with the vampire in red. People thought we shot it entirely in color.
That was ingenious.
Roger Vadim did a similar technique with a horror movie. Only he shot everything in color and later reduce it to a monotone.
What did you think of your contemporaries?
Manuel Silos was a great director, but he was always at odds with the studio. It was his films, not this direction that was promoted. His brother, Octavio Silos, could relate a difficult story without it being misunderstood by the audience. Gregorio Fernandez was the intellectual. His films were carefully reasoned out. Carlos Vander Tolosa was the first one who made effective use of close-ups on Filipino movies. Bert Avellana could tell a story without affection.
What about our new crop of directors – Brocka, Bernal, Elwood, Joey?
Give them time to mature. They have to dispose of their foreign influences so that they can develop their own theories, techniques. One bad habit of our young directors is the unmitigated use of the zoom lens. Let them restrain themselves from using the zoom. Let it be used only for effect and with subtlety.
How would you describe your technique?
I think it was Cecil B. de Mille who said that going to a movie was like going to a museum. You enter from the front (the establishing shot) through the lobby (the long shot) to the individual paintings (close-ups). Now if you go from one painting to another and discover that you are seeing the same picture, you will become bored. I think the dictum is “Every shot should be something new.” You repeat shots only for effect.
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