Maricel Soriano devotee...WHAT A JOURNEY

Maricel Soriano devotee.
WHAT A JOURNEY

There are Noranians and Vilmanians.
But a fan narrates how he grew up to become a truly zealous Maricel Soriano devotee.

By Arnel Ramos

I grew up escorting my Noranian of a mother to the lone rundown theater in Marikina. Thankfully, she never swayed me into joining her tribe. When I reached 11, I felt the need to find my own “heroine” and it helped that Nanay fully understood. The next thing to do was narrow down my nominees to three – Sharon Cuneta in P.S. I Love You (My verdict: she giggled a lot!), Snooky in Bata Pa Si Sabel (my mom’s verdict: beautiful but there was something disconcerting about her proboscis), and last but not the least, Maricel Soriano in Oh My Mama (our combined judgment: simply enchanting!)

That was the first time a celluloid image left me astounded. And it proved to be more than just a one-movie fling.

After that I fall in love with Maricel Soriano many times over. Galawgaw, Pabling, Hindi Kita Malimot, the list is endless. I saw them all and always I would marvel at how she could hop from comedy to drama to horror (her reluctant bloodsucker in Vampira deservedly won a Best Performer award from the Young Critics Circle). Put her a smorgasboad movie with other stars and she still manages to shine (To Mama With Love, Mga Kuwento ni Lola Basyang). She made it appear so easy, like she was born to it.

Early on, it became apparent that versatility was her one big edge.

She could be a spitfire one moment and waif-life the next. And the Nora Aunors and Vilma Santoses and Sharon Cunetas of the world could, no – never – make the same claim.

In the grand tradition of every Maricelian who came before and after me, I also went through the usual fan rituals: pasting cut-out pictures from magazines and dailies on notebook; standing among the SRO crowd of a Maricel starrer; asking my mother to watch Schoolgirls in 1982 on its first day of showing only to find out later – hungry and tired – that the Board of Censors has banned it from exhibition; listening to Ate Luds’ radio show where she relentlessly played Maricel’s first and last commercially released single Ngayon at Habang Panahon on the weekday afternoons; and just simply memorizing the lines from her movies. Hay, my classmates and playmates called me luka-luka, but I didn’t really mind.

Years later, when I was already earning my keep, I would allot a fractions of my salary for reading materials that had her on the cover or even just in the inside pages. When our panganay sold my sizable collection (I had dreams of putting an archive) to the junkshop without my knowledge, I considered it a serious crime against human decency and dignity. To this day, the animosity lingers. I had never forgiven my sister for that.

Although never the screaming type who would troop to Broadcast City for the live airing of Maricel Live! or chase after her to some far-flung location shoot, I followed my beloved Marya’s career moves, religiously but, I’d like to believe, in a more sophisticated manner. Her screen feats were always an event. How could you not love her as Shane Rodrigo, the jealous daughter in Saan Darating ang Umaga? who uttered the immortal line ”Wala sa damit, wala sa kulay and pagmamahal..” How could you resist her playing the triplets in Maria Went To Town or as the college graduate turned-yaya in The Graduates (a personal favorite).

While her rivals were still plying the pa-tweetums route, my dear Maricel was making brave, bold career choices. Whether telling everyone “Ayoko ng putik, ayoko ng putik in Kaya Kong Abutin ang Langit, chanting her national anthem I Am What I Am in Inday Bote or contemplating abortion in Hinugot sa Langit, Maricel was always intense, passionate, her portrayal fraught with naked pain.

But perhaps, nothing prepared her followers, or even Maricel herself, for the heartbreak that Ikaw Pa Lang ang Minahal would bring. She could have lost as the mother fighting to keep child in Abandonada or even as the advertising executive smarting up from the marital breakup in Separada. But not as Adela, the avenging heiress, in that reworking of an old Hollywood film. Maricel rose above the trite elements of the plot to embody an unforgettable character – the performance of a lifetime that curiously went unrecognized.

Alas, Maricel, ever a survivor has since moved on – to equally compelling performances (Dahas, Nasaan ang Puso, Soltera), and, as of late, to spiritual maturity (she is showbiz’s official nocturnal Bible text message sender). The foibles (living in with Ronnie Ricketts at age 19, the unsuccessful marriage to Edu Manzano) and idiosyncracies of youth now only stand as footnotes to life that was – and is still being – lived to the fullest.

In the age of reality of TV and instant stardom-instant downfall, Maricel Soriano’s most glowing achievement is the she has prevailed. Come June or July, her much-heralded return to a genre she dominated and reigned in for 10 years (The Maricel Drama Special from 1987-1997) via Vietnam Rose promises to be the teleserye event of the year. In the role of a Vietnamese girl who flees the war and struggles to build a new life in the Philippines, expect dramatic fireworks from the Diamond Star.

It is comforting to know, 24 years later, that I, with Nanay’s guidance, had picked the right girl after all.