Farewell to Da King

The end came surprisingly quickly, like the proverbial thief in the night.

He had been helping with relief goods for the typhoon victims which he was donating. He called boxer Manny Pacquiao to congratulate him on his decisive knock-out win. Two hours later he was rushed to the hospital after collapsing while enjoying his customary beer with friends. Two days later, Fernando Poe Jr. was dead.

The shock, the sense of tragedy, the mourning for FPJ cut across political lines, despite the bitter presidential contest that many say contributed to his sudden demise. Everyone agreed that he was a kind and decent man who overcame an aversion to politics with a sincere desire to help his countrymen.

His popularity was indisputable. In two previous elections–in 1992 and 1998–when he was a campaigner rather than a candidate, it was FPJ who drew in the crowds at rallies, who more often that not outshone the candidates. The crowds came to see him, waited for hours to catch a glimpse of him, maybe even shake his hand or steal a kiss. He usually came out of these encounters with shirt torn, scratches and bruises on his arms, a campaign insider shares, the result of his fans’ unbridled adoration. The masa idolized him; to them he was a superhero and a savior who could do no wrong.

His life story was the stuff of movies. Orphaned at age ten, falling from plenty to poverty, Ronnie (pronounced RAH-nee) went from messenger to stuntman to movie star in quick succession. His path to celluloid stardom began in 1956 with the hit Lo’ Waist Gang. His first starring role came in the movie Tough Guy, which set the tone for his career and public persona. He was the tough guy, but he stood on the side of the downtrodden and the oppressed, fighting for what was right.

That perception of him grew with each hit movie, and there were many in quick succession: Kamay ni Cain, Markado, Kilabot sa Barilan, Sigaw ng Digmaan, Mga Alabok sa Lupa (which won him his first Best Actor trophy), Mga Anghel na Walang Langit, Perlas ng Silangan...

The awards came as well, but more than that came the adulation of an entire generation of Filipino movie goers. FPJ became a legend.

His subsequent films were nearly epic in proportion: the Panday series, Agila, the Probin-syano series. He starred with the hottest names in moviedom–the roster of his leading ladies is a virtual who’s who of Philippine movies–and beyond: his latest movie was Pakners with billiards legend Efren "Bata" Reyes. From hard-hitting action to high drama to romantic comedy, FPJ had the winning touch.

His fans, followers and handlers believed this winning touch would extend beyond the movies, and succeeded in convincing him to make a run for the role of a lifetime: the presidency of the Philippines. He was seen as the only one who could unite the political opposition and pose a serious challenge to the incumbent. They counted on his grassroots popularity and solid image as Mr. Clean and Mr. Good Guy to take him all the way to the top.

Sadly, the reality of politics does not adhere to a script, even the best thought out and best laid plan. Against the formidable political machinery of the incumbent and seasoned strategists, good intentions and sincerity–the catchwords of FPJ’s campaign–were simply not enough. The contest was close; his camp claims to have been cheated and filed an electoral protest which, in a macabre twist, was supposed to be set for hearing when he died.

Following the bitter and no doubt traumatic electoral experience, FPJ kept out of the public eye. Those close to him say he kept his feelings–some say depression–to himself; but just before he died there were reports of plans for a new television series and a movie or two. He had plans for a big family reunion this Christmas, asking his siblings to come home for the holidays.

From communist leaders to foreign governments, from movie stars to movie fans, from vendors to senators, the outpouring of grief and sympathy at his passing is such that befits the legend that he was in life. The death of FPJ marks the end of an era, in Philippine movies as well as in politics. Da King is dead; long live Da King. –Dina Sta. Maria