There had been dozens and dozens of movie queens in local cinema — from Carmen Rosales to Kathryn Bernardo, who is the hottest female star now on the strength of the box-office success of Hello, Love, Again. There is no denying though that the biggest movie queen in Philippine entertainment will always be Gloria Romero.
Seventy years in the acting profession. No one else can top that. Not even Mary Walter, who started her career (first as a Tahitian dancer) during the silent film era (circa 1928) and was still active in the movies shortly before her death in 1993.
Gloria’s career, however, wasn’t always on the up, up, up. She, too, had low moments. But even at her lowest low, she was still regarded a queen by the public.
Sadly, they don’t make movie queens like her anymore. In her case, it was the result of east meeting west. In her veins ran blood from three different parts of the world: Europe, the Americas and the Orient.
The seeds of the Gloria Romero story were first sowed in the small town of Mabini in Pangasinan. Among the affluent families in Mabini at the turn-of-the-century were the Gallas, who owned vast tracts of land.
During the time of Rizal, the ilustrados went to Spain for further education. But by the time the Gallas became prosperous, the Americans had already taken over our islands. The trend then was for wealthy families in the Philippines to send their children to study in the United States.
During the first four decades of the 20th century, there were also “pensionados” or scholars who were given study grants abroad by the US government. The beneficiaries of such American largesse were bright Filipino students.
The moneyed Galla family had no need for such aid. They had enough resources to fund the college education of their three boys in the US. In the early 1930s, Pedro Galla and his two brothers set sail for America to look for a school.
But left without parental supervision, the Galla boys managed to turn the trip into a junket. Mesmerized by the climate and the various topographies of the continental United States, the Galla youngsters went all over America in search of adventure and totally forgot about school.
In Denver, Colorado, Pedro Galla met a 15-year-old girl named Mary Borrego-Miller. Her father, of Hispanic roots, must have descended from the Spanish conquistadores, who were the first to explore New Mexico and what is now Colorado. Mary’s mother, a Miller, was American.
Pedro wooed and won Mary’s heart. They got married in Colorado and had three children: Louise, who became a nurse; Gloria, who was christened Gloria Anne; and Pedro, Jr., who grew up to be the actor Tito Galla.
Raising a family in the US proved to be difficult for Pedro, especially since that was the time of the Great Depression. In 1937, Pedro thought it was best to bring his family to his native Pangasinan where they had landholdings.
Mary was hesitant at first to uproot herself from her native Colorado, but times were hard in America during that period. Maybe they could have a better life in the Philippines.
Gloria was almost four and with curly light hair when she and her family crossed the Pacific Ocean aboard a boat that took a month before it docked at the Manila pier. Mary instantly fell in love with Manila, then dubbed as the Pearl of the Orient. The lights and the nightlife dazzled her.
But reality crept in after only a few days — when it was time to drive up north to her husband’s hometown. With their belongings, they boarded a truck and began the arduous trek to Pangasinan.
Passing through the towns of Bulacan, Mary was delighted by the sight of the verdant rice fields and the overall pastoral scenes. But when they reached Tarlac and everything was still farmland, she started to cry — dismayed at the prospect of what awaited them in Pangasinan.
By the time they got to the Galla ancestral home in Mabini, Mary’s world started to crumble. The sight of pigs tied to a post under the house almost made her faint.
In Mabini, Mary tried to blend in with the womenfolk — learning how to make rice cakes and studying the dialect. But she was still bored.
To give his wife a break from the monotonous barrio life, Pedro made it a point to bring the family to Baguio every weekend. They always checked in at the Zigzag Hotel when they were in the City of Pines.
In time, Mary also grew tired of Baguio. She started pestering Pedro about the possibility of returning to the US. The Great Depression was over, after all.
Next year, Pedro promised. He kept saying “next year” — until the Second World War reached the Philippines.
The Japanese Occupation was particularly difficult for Mary because she was American. They often had to evacuate to the mountains — hiding Mary in a kariton (pushcart) covered in hay. Every time it was peaceful in Mabini, the family would return home for some comfort.
Then, one December evening in 1943, the Gallas were having dinner when they heard heavy footsteps — unmistakably military boots. Japanese soldiers barged into their home and took Mary with them.
As she was led away, some 30 Japanese soldiers marched behind her — all of them pointing their bayonets at the Caucasian woman with brown hair. An hour or so later, the Japanese returned to arrest Pedro.
At the Japanese garrison in town, Mary kept her composure. During the interrogation, she spoke in the Castilian tongue, insisting that she was Spanish and, therefore, a friend of the Japanese since Spain and Japan were both part of the Axis powers. The Japanese officials eventually let her go.
Deep into the war, Mary gave birth to her youngest, Gilbert (he grew up to be a doctor). Since blackout was enforced starting at 8 p.m., Mary had no choice but to navigate her way in the dark to attend to the needs of her newborn baby.
One time, she missed a step and fell down the stairs, breaking her nose in the process. But as months progressed, she became feverish and her body began to ache. It wasn’t until much later when a “manghihilot” (folk doctor) discovered she had broken three ribs in that fall.
Lingayen was among the first towns to be liberated by the Americans in Luzon. When Gloria and her siblings heard that food packs were being distributed in another part of the province, they crossed rivers and hills — unshod — to get their share of the bounty. They returned home carrying apples and chocolates with them.
Gloria and her siblings offered the goods to their mother in her sickbed. She was so weak. With much prodding from her children, she managed to have a light lunch and a bar of chocolate. She died right after. Mary was only 28.
The Galla children returned to normal life during the post-war years. In high school, Gloria began nurturing dreams of becoming a movie star — never mind if she was so skinny that time and looked like Olive Oyl.
After she was done with her secondary education, Gloria pleaded with her father to please allow her to join the movies. Pedro only said yes because the family resources were starting to dwindle. By then, all they had was a truck that transported merchandise to Manila and back.
But how does one become a movie star? The answer was in Manila. And so off to the city they went — the entire family. They rented an apartment in Sta. Mesa — at the back of Famous Laundry.
The actor Jaime Castellvi was a family friend. They looked him up in Manila. He told Gloria to try her luck at Premiere Productions, where she was hired as an extra.
But when she was finally given a dialogue, she flubbed her lines. Premiere matriarch, Adela Santiago, took her aside and told her to look for another studio. Mrs. Santiago felt Gloria was too thin and didn’t even speak Tagalog that well.
Her next stop was at Sampaguita Pictures where a distant uncle, Nardo Rosales, was the chief film editor. He told her to hang around the studio. Every day, she would show up at the gate — hoping there was work for her.
One day, the matinee idol Oscar Moreno (the father of Boots Anson-Rodrigo) saw Gloria walking the stretch of Gilmore. He offered her a lift. When Gloria finally got her big break, her first leading man turned out to be Oscar Moreno. This was in the film Monghita.
The wait for stardom and even for her to attain secondary lead status was long. She languished for quite some time as an extra. Gloria was either “pamparami sa likod (to help make a crowd)” or “taga-hawak ng kapa ni Tessie Agana (someone to hold Tessie Agana’s cape).” Those were her exact words.
Gloria Romero — believe it or not — almost didn’t become a full-fledged movie star. The great star-builder, Dr. Jose Perez, wasn’t exactly impressed with her in the beginning. To him, Gloria was no different from the mestizas de entresuelos in Quiapo.
It was the Sampaguita matriarch, Dolores Vera, who pushed for Gloria. Mrs. Vera saw the aspiring star’s persistence (she waited by the studio gate every day!) and ordered that she be given a close-up - “para naman matuwa (so she would be happy).”
When Sampaguita finally built her up, her ascent to the top was fast. In no time, she was the studio’s highest-paid talent — at P10,000 per picture. Only she got the top salary there. Amalia Fuentes and Susan Roces only received P8,000 for every movie they made.
For 11 solid years, Gloria was the No. 1 movie queen — practically unrivaled. Nida Blanca of LVN Pictures was a close second.
Gloria was swamped with suitors at the height of her career. Even a Chanel heir went crazy over her. But, in the end, she married Juancho Gutierrez, who was Amalia Fuentes’ leading man at Sampaguita.
A Letran Knight, Juancho came from a long line of Iberian nobility. The Gutierrezes were Basque, but with a hint of Moorish blood. That explains their skin tone — not too fair, but far from dark.
Juancho was christened Juan Vicente. His grandfather was Ricardo Gutierrez-Gil, a marquis, who dared defy the Spanish Crown. So that he didn’t cause trouble at the royal court, Ricardo was sent to Manila as an exile.
When Juancho became a movie star, his family lived in the Gutierrez ancestral home in Santa Ana — in a neighborhood that was once exclusive to the elite. After he wed Gloria, he set up a house for her near Balete Drive in New Manila. They had one daughter, Maria Teresa or Maritess.
The 1970s weren’t exactly kind to Gloria. She had already separated from Juancho then and was no longer in demand for lead parts. The lowest point of her career was when she was made to play “aswang” roles in horror films.
In movie ad layouts, sometimes her name was up there. Sometimes, it was down there. Sometimes, it wasn’t even there.
Her peers in the business were outraged. Such disrespect to the queen.
Fortunately, Regal, Viva and Seiko Films began the trend of using veteran stars to support new discoveries in the 1980s. Gloria was assigned to substantial roles again in the movies. And then, there was the sitcom Palibhasa Lalake, where she charmed TV viewers as the gin-gurgling Minerva Chavez.
Gloria’s return to the top, however, happened in 2000 — via Tanging Yaman. There was no stopping her from that time on. She started playing title roles again in Bahay ni Lola and Singsing ni Lola. Of course, there was also the GMA 7 series Daig Kayo ng Lola Ko, which was a consistent top-rater.
When GMA conducted a survey to determine its most popular stars, the name of Bong Revilla came first. In second place was Gloria Romero. Not bad for somebody in her 80s. At 85, in fact, she was still hailed best actress for the filmfest entry Rainbow Sunset.
What was amazing about Gloria was the fact that she remained beautiful even in her twilight years. Her face was untouched by surgery, save for the time she had her eye bags removed in 1971 — “while Plaza Miranda was being bombed.”
During the pandemic, while most of her colleagues were dying in close succession (Liberty Ilagan, Mila del Sol, Anita Linda, Lilia Dizon and even Susan Roces), the results of Gloria’s laboratory works were that of a teenager. Her cholesterol levels and blood pressure were normal. Of course, her vertigo always troubled her even from way back. But overall, she was still very healthy.
And then, when she was about to approach 90, everything went downhill. Before she could even turn 91, she was already in and out of the hospital.
Last 25 January, Gloria said goodbye. Although she had about 10 doctors attending to her — yes, it looked like there was a medical convention every time her physicians met — the cause of her death was never determined.
At her wake at Arlington Funeral Homes, she was lovely in a blue shantung dress that she wore to her tribute in Master Showman about a decade back. In her casket, she looked calm and serene — every inch of her a queen.
On the first day of the Year of the Snake in the Chinese calendar (29 January), Gloria’s mortal remains were cremated — also at Arlington. Daughter Maritess and grandson Christopher Balbin and most everyone present at the cremation rites wept. After 90 minutes, her ashes were in a white cloth sack and placed in an elegant gold-lined urn.
Maritess and Christopher brought the urn with them at home where it will stay until the 40th day, which is when the inurnment is scheduled — at the columbarium of the Mt. Carmel minor basilica. The cremated remains of her parents are already there and all three will be in the same ossuary.
Gloria Romero will be missed. But then, it is time for her to rest. Farewell, our queen. Sleep well in the arms of the Lord, Jesus our Savior.
And thank you, Gloria, for sharing seven decades of your life with the public. Each one of those 70 years was glorious.