Born out of a generation full of upheavals at the turn of the century, Jose Zialcita Nepomuceno (1893-1959) in his bachelor years, lived through great changes that would forever shape modern Philippines. 

*The young Jose Nepomuceno, with his film camera.

New technologies were on the rave in those days, especially with the coming of the Americans. Photography via the old daguerrotype cameras and stereoscopies, and cinema through chronophotographs and cinematographs, have only recently taken root in the Manila scene at the time, as these technologies captured the sweeping feeling of nationalism, revolution, and the ultimate desire for independence among Filipinos, amidst the competing influence of Spain and the United States. 

*From left to right: a camera, stereoscope, and a cinematograph.

In one single generation, the passing old Spanish colonial spirit and the newly entered, fresh and strange American innovative spirit have caught Filipinos in between, as Filipinos were forced into the corner, still insisting on their own identity as a Nation. These changes, I imagine, would have been so traumatic for the old at the time, but exciting for the young. Even the shift from Spanish to American English, and the persisting Filipino literary spirit in between, would have been something to experience. 

So how strange and pioneering it was for Nepomuceno, who, nurtured by the same stubborn Filipino spirit of independence, sought to tinker his hands on… *gasp* a cinematograph!

Imagine the young Nepomuceno, living in Manila, who, at four years old, made paper cut-outs to make his own shadowplay. At the time, the first films (silent film) were shown for the first time in the country in 1897 at Salon de Pertierra in Escolta via a chronopotograph. In that same year, Antonio Ramos, a Spanish officer from Barcelona, brought the Lumierre Cinematograph in August and was able to show 30 films in Escolta. 

*A poster of the Lumierre Cinematograph in 1895.

*Films captured some of the historical events in the American colonial period. Here, for example, is a footage of the U.S. 25th Infantry in the campaign at Mt. Arayat, during the Philippine-American War. The footage was caught on camera by Raymond Ackerman on 23 March 1900.

Movie theaters sprouted— the Cine Walgrah in Intramuros in 1900, the Cinematographo Parisien in Quiapo in 1902, among others. At the same time, Nepomuceno grew up with the powerful nationalistic stories portrayed in the Zarzuelas, produced by the great Tagalog playwrights with wit, poetry, and imagination, using symbolic metaphors to escape American censorship, and still, evoking public reactions of laughter and tears among the audience, in many of Manila’s theaters. It was in this atmosphere that Jose thought of fusing the two worlds together. He would use the new medium of cinema, but would seek to show the Filipino eye through it—something that the world had not yet seen.

In 1915, Jose and his brother Jesus collaborated and opened their photography shop, the Electro-Parnelio. It became a popular go-to place for the rich who got their own camera equipment. Purchasing his own film camera from the Rizalina Film Company, Jose began tinkering with the camera, as he was able to shoot the funeral of the first wife of Sergio Osmeña, Doña Estefania Veloso, in January 1918. The Electro-Parnelio would grow to become the first Filipino-led film company. Jose named it the Malayan Movies, while he continued to hone his skills in film directing. 

*A scene from a zarzuela, circa 1900s.

Jose sought to have the Tagalog zarzuela classic by Hermogenes Ilagan and Leon Ignacio and have it shown like never before through this new medium of film. He was privileged to get the entire cast of the original musical, with the lead actors, Atang de la Rama (who would become a National Artist) and Marcellano Ilagan, for his film which he titled with the same title of the zarzuela it’s based on. Dalagang Bukid was shown on that Friday of 12 September 1919. 

It was the first ever Filipino-made film. 

Why Dalagang Bukid? That part is not known to us. But the zarzuela itself, with three acts and eighteen songs, is the classic story of Angelita, a flower vendor from a barrio whose poor family wanted her to accept the hand of marriage of the rich Don Silvestre who got enamored by her beauty. But Angelita had already fallen in love with a simple law student named Cipriano. The couple outwits Silvestre with an elaborate plan to seal their love in marriage in secret until the great reveal at the end. This was not just any ordinary zarzuela. The timeless theme of the beauty and charm of the Philippine countryside (an unchangeable stage background in the musical), the disparity between the rich and the poor, and how love equalizes all—”Diyan kayo nagkakamali, Don Silvestre, ang mga pusong nagmamahalan ay di nakikilala ang kahirapan o kaligayahan!”—was refreshing because it showed a glimspe of the Filipino experience—brought about by the spirit of the age that animated Nepomuceno’s generation. 

Since the film was a silent film, a zarzuela like Dalagang Bukid would have been difficult to adapt since it was known for its songs sung live on stage. Consider, Angelita’s memorable song in the zarzuela piece:

Nabasag ang banga

Pagka’t ang lalaki ay napadupilas

Kaya ang babae nandoon umiiyak

At ang sinasabi’y siya’y napahamak.

Ang kinasapatinan pagdating sa bahay

Ano’t umiiyak tanong ng magulang

Sagot ng Dalaga’y mangyari po Inay

Ako ay tinatakot ng isang asuwang.

At ng sabihin kong huwag magalaw

Agad ng inagaw ang banga kong tangan

Kaya nga po umuwing walang dalang tubig

At pati ng baro’y napuno ng putik.

Sung by Atang de la Rama as Angelita, in a silent film, this would have fallen flat. According to some film historians, the first few showings of the silent film involved some of the cast singing some of the scenes live! It would have been something to witness! Two worlds collide—film and stage performance—to form an unforgettable experience for the audience.

We are unfortunate that none of Nepomuceno’s films survived, including this iconic pioneering film. Nitrate films were flammable, and through time and historical circumstances, these are now forever lost to us. But the themes, and the vision that Nepomuceno began lives on. And after a hundred years, isn’t this worth going back to? Isn’t this worth commemorating? 

But Philippine Cinema hasn’t been faring good for the longest time, people say. The mainstream is content in limiting the Filipino moviegoers’ palette to the usual romance or comedy, with a little substance, nothing to draw from, nothing to make the Filipino fight another day and strive for an ideal larger than the family or the love interest.

But pioneers like Nepomuceno persist. 

See them in Cinemalaya grow in number and thrive in the number of audiences. See them in Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino. See them expand their stories to capture the spectrum of the Filipino experience. They are used to being ignored. They are used to having no funds nor sponsors, unlike their mainstream counterparts. But their conviction remains whole. Their material is fresh. Their stories are compelling as it feels real.  

To these pioneering Filipino film directors who aim to add to their watching audience the depth of humanity and soul, rather than just appealing to their audience’s base instincts to rake easy money…

YOU are Philippine Cinema. And you are the ones we are celebrating. 

You are Jose Nepomuceno… and so much more. 

May your tribe increase.