Gumising Ka Maruja (1978)

Film Review by Mario E. Bautista, Philippine Daily Express, September 19th 1978

“GUMISING KA MARUJA” is the best suspense drama ever made in Philippine movies. It is also the classiest picture FPJ Productions has ever produced so far. Even Gerry de Leon’s ‘KULAY DUGO ANG GABI,” a tale of blood sucking vampires, was nothing like this. Previous horror films like “GABI NG LAGIM,” “VILLA MALVAROSA,” and “PUSANG ITIM” pale in comparison. Even the previous occult movie produced and starred in by Susan Roces, “PATAYIN MO SA SINDAK SI BARBARA” and “MALIGNO” Both copied from similar Hollywood films. It is even better than the first “MARUJA” directed by Armando de Guzman. More on the level of Mike de Leon’s “ITIM.”

The plot relentlessly hurtles with a fast pace and plausibility. As the credit titles are flashed, the film starts with the voice of Mario O’ Hara narrating the life of the dead Maruja Isabel Sevilla y Mira (born 1872, died 1890) through the help of faded sepia-colored stills.

Maruja fell in love with their stable boy, Gabriel, but was compromised by her elders to Rodrigo Velasquez, a captain of the Civil Guard. She took poison on the night of her wedding and was reincarnated several years later in the person of Cristy, who traced the original house where Maruja lived to find the old Gabriel still waiting for her.

The first moving shot of the film shows Nina Concepcion (Susan Roces), a producer-actress, nodding with approval at the story told by the lawyer who takes charge of the sale of Maruja’s ancient abode. She is taken to a tour of the awesomely huge mansion, which stands alone in the middle of a sugar plantation, the nearest neighbor being ten kilometers away. Warned that several previous owners have forsaken the place because it is haunted, she smiles and asked her director, Freddie (Mario O’Hara), and her co-star, Marco (Philip Salvador), “Sa panahon ngayon , may naniniwala pa ba sa multo?”

She decides to buy the house and film the life of Maruja, with her in the title role, right there where the story happened: “Love Story ito, hindi kuwento ni Dracula,” she jokingly quips. “Kung may mga multo man, di umekstra sila.”

And that’s just exactly what the multos did. On the night of the film’s press conference where guests were specially flown in from Manila, mysterious veiled women in black strangely mixed with the crowd. A drunken guest looking for the comfort room asked directions from an old couple who were supposed to be dead.

It was only after Nina, Freddie and Marco kept on seeing the apparitions (particularly of Laurice Guillen tearfully asking them to leave) were they finally convinced that supernastural forces inhabit the house. Events that happened in the past appear to them like re-enacted sequences in a play. “Para silang mga artistang paulit-ulit na lumalabas sa kanilang eksena,” Marco exclaims.

At the top of the hill where Maruja and Gabriel used to meet secretly, Marco was suddenly possessed by the spirit of the limping Rodrigo, Nina herself was taken over by the defensive Maruja. Bunches of red roses strangely turn up wherever Nina goes. In one instance, she finds the flowers strewn all over the living room floor, like a present from some ardent lover.

Slowly, they realize that what they are in for, as Freddie, calls it, a “laro ni kamatayan,” engineered by the dead Rodrigo who wants his marriage with Maruha consummated. Two of the crew members they sent for help never came back. Rodrigo appeared to them as the crossed the only bridge leading to town. And Nina hopelessly sighs”: “Hindi niya tao paalisin. It’s useless,” a statement that comes straight from the ouija board. The terror mounts gradually until it reached the bursting point on the anniversary of Maruja’s wedding and death.

Woven into the film is the private story of Nina Concecion herself. Adored by her fans, Nina nevertheless remains an enigma. Marco, a budding star she is building up and also an avid suitor, is puzzled by the games she plays and urges her: “Bakit hindi mo tanggalin nag iyong mascara?” As the web of strange events engulf them, she finds herself slowly being drawn to Marco, who continually insists on their “baring our souls to one another.” She finally admits that she is putting up a front. “Kailanman ay hindi ako natutong umibig.” She express envy for Maruja “dahil may direksiyon ang puso niya.”

THE FILM owes much of its engrossing power to Tony Perez original story and script. He is surely one new talented scenarist who merits watching. I could hardly wait for his "Kukulog, Kikidlat…” The casting is just perfect, from the various apparitions (particularly Mary Walter and Manny Ojeda) and the movie reporters who play themselves, to the midget Librada, and the nondescript medium who, Laurice’s voices urges the guests to go away. Mario O’Hara gives the right edge of authority to the difficult role of Freddie who Laurice Guillen is properly ethereal as the ghost of Cristy. Philip Salvador’s role is more demanding than those in ”Mananayaw” and “Tatay Kong Nanay.” He acquits himself as Marco but fails to supply the added dose of menace when he is possessed by Rodrigo.

As for Susan Roces, any further doubts on her capabilities as an actress will surely be erased by her performance here. Two scenes are particularly memorable: the breakfast table scene where she repents after Marco touches her and she instinctively withdraws her hand immediately, and her final revelation scene where, she confesses: “Sa buong buhay ko, lagi na lamang akong natatakot para sa sarili ko. Natatakot akong tumanda, malaos, mag-isa,umibig.” Then she recalls her brush with perversion as a 12 year old child in the hands of her father’s employes. Her delivery is intelligent and effectively exact.

As for Lino Brocka’s direction, he proves, more than anything else, that he can be a superior necromancer of horror films. “GUMISING” is really a goose-fleshy scare picture that makes you edgy about opening the front door when you get home from the movie house, spooky enough to make you shudder next time you visit an old old house. The eerie atmosphere is successfully sustained all throughout, right from Philip’s first encounter with the spirit of Rodrigo on their initial visit to Maruja’s house, to the nerve-shattering climax at Maruja’s grave. The ghosts are not the type who walk through walls and closed doors, they are more like those in Jack Claytron’s “The Innocents: 9 based on Henry Sames’ “The Turn of the Screw,” also a masterpiece of psychological horror) who appear even in broad daylight.

Lino succeeds in taking a couple of potshots on local showbiz frivolities. Nina is after gimmicks like the press conference where “the whole of Manila attended” (You invite five, expect twenty.. That’s showbusiness.”) And Fritz Ynfante does a fantastic send up of a gay art director swooning on his “baroque/rococo” antique discoveries. ‘(Quality is expensive”) I just wonder though why Nina is filming Maruja’s life on location without anyone to play the role of Gabriel. And if Cristy were there to help them, why did she scare Nina in the rain by falling from the rooftop? But these are quibbles that do not detract from the numerous merits of the film.

MEL CHIONGLO’s production design is flawless.

Conrado Baltazar’s cinematography rivals that of Romy Vitug in “Pagputi.” That silent funeral procession scene in the rain stands out vividly. Lutgardo Labad’s musical score is properly foreboding in his subdued best.

Bravo to all! If this review sounds so ecstatic, it’s because the local cinema gives us very few occasion to rejoice and this is one of them. More tastefully executed pictures like this and everyone will be convinced that the Pilipino film industry deserves to be saved.