The summer I met Tita Muñoz

We are now in the peak of summer — when it is at its hottest, at its prickliest. But I try not to complain because I know that — like in many summers past — it will go away when the rains come next month. And this is one summer that will most likely also be forgotten like the rest.

People in entertainment are no different from summers. Very few remember them when they leave.

It was also at the height of summer when I met Tita Muñoz for the first and last time in 2000. A couple of months prior to that meeting, I got a frantic call from a concerned Rosa Rosal who heard or read somewhere that Tita Muñoz wasn’t well and that she kept falling and was all alone in her house. Ms. Rosal wanted to help and asked if I knew how to get in touch with Tita. Sadly, I didn’t.

Then one day I got an assignment from Startalk to interview Tita Muñoz. We were to visit her at Hospicio de San Jose on the Isla de Convalesencia off Ayala Bridge in Manila.

While she wasn’t in the pinkest of health and was walking around with a cane, she still tried to stand erect. Coifed and still pretty, she didn’t look sick at all. And no, she didn’t look pitiable — that much she made sure. Oh, and there was still that unmistakable regal bearing.

Since it was only our first meeting, I didn’t think I was in the position to ask her why she wasn’t with family. She had famous nephews: brothers Carlo and Leandro Muñoz, two very talented actors who were not only popular that time, but were also starting to become the critics’ favorites. Unfortunately, they eventually decided to embrace the stateside way of life when they got the opportunity to live in the West Coast.

Carlo and Leandro were the kids of her younger brother and she was proud of their achievements. But she didn’t want to burden them or anyone else for that matter with her condition.

I immediately sensed that Tita Muñoz was the type who wanted her independence and was happy being alone. I didn’t think she would have had it any other way. To begin with, she wasn’t a charity case even if she was living in Hospicio de San Jose. I think she paid rent (but I didn’t confirm that) because she had a room to herself. And it was a pretty room — neat and orderly. She had her own TV set and best of all the room assigned to her was only a few steps away from the chapel where she regularly prayed. Hospicio de San Jose is also a very beautiful community — well-kept and safe. There they let her be. Maybe that was the life she wanted and it wasn’t so bad — no, not bad at all. After seeing her, in fact, I was no longer afraid to grow old — even alone.

In her youth, Tita Muñoz was celebrated for her beauty. Even Armida Siguion-Reyna had a girl crush on her. Then living in San Juan, Armida recalls that when she was in her teens, she would always look out the window to get a glimpse of Tita Muñoz walk to the Church of Pinaglabanan.

In time, Tita started acting on the legitimate stage and eventually became theater royalty. “But Daisy Avellana will always be the First Lady of Philippine Theater” — that she pointed out to me.

Tita also became a famous radio talent and from there the transition to film was easy. She played leading lady to some of the more popular actors of the ‘50s and among them was the late Fred Montilla. Later, she also appeared in foreign films and one of those was Flight of the Sparrow. A truly significant film she did in her latter years was Chito Roño’s Itanong Mo sa Buwan, which was released in December 1988. She was cast as the haughty mother of Anjo Yllana, who played a mama’s boy — to the frustration of wife Jaclyn Jose. The film went on to win Best Picture in the Gawad Urian.

On television in the ‘60s, she was also the Queen of Endorsements. But unlike Sharon Cuneta, KC Concepcion and Marian Rivera who would spend a whole day shooting for a commercial and wait for the finished product to be edited and shown on TV, Tita went to the television studio night after night and did the endorsement live during commercial breaks. But she was greatly rewarded for the effort: P75 a night, which was huge in those days when the exchange rate was P4-$1.

Although her body of work wasn’t as huge compared to other veteran actresses, she commanded the same respect from the industry. Colleagues were also always concerned with her well-being, especially during the times she was having those series of strokes.

Last Black Saturday, April 11, Tita Muñoz died at age 82 due to heart failure.

This summer, we mourn the passing of a truly elegant lady — one who lent her great talent to theater, radio, film and television. Yes, we will miss her perfect diction and enunciation. May we never forget this summer.