(Nora Aunor, multi-awarded Filipino actress who starred in some 170 acclaimed films, and was declared National Artist for Film and Broadcast Arts in 2022, passed away last April 16 at the age of 71. The author recalls his encounters over the years with the Philippines’ one and only superstar.)
Honor guard stands at the National Artist’s wake at Heritage Memorial Park chapel (Photo by Mell Navarro)
The first time I saw Nora Aunor was in 1971.
The author’s first article on Nora Aunor and Tirso Cruz III in the pre-Martial Law ‘Graphic’ Magazine, circa 1971
It was the year of my first job at Graphic Magazine as proofreader. The magazine’s entertainment editor, Ethel Ramos, asked me to cover the press conference of the then popular Guy and Pip tandem at the Vera Perez Gardens of Sampaguita Pictures.
Nora in a landmark Lino Brocka fillm, ‘Bona’
What I remember of that moment was the incessant screaming of the crowd every time she waved at the predominantly media audience. At the time, I didn’t know what the hysteria was all about. In 1971, I was no fan of hers. Or of Tirso Cruz III. I preferred Susan Roces. That decade, I had yet to watch Himala and Bona and Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos. I went back to the Graphic office with a detached reportage on Guy and Pip.
The author, Nora Aunor, veteran newshen Baby K. Jimenez, and Tirso Cruz III during a 2016 reunion
In 2016, Bibeth Orteza invited me to a private dinner which I thought was only for Susan Roces and her friends. That year, La Aunor was already a legend in both cinema and music. I adored her after Himala and Bona.
I had not gotten over the excitement of dining with Susan Roces when lo and behold, another guest arrived, and it was no less than the great Nora Aunor. My media friend, Baby K. Jimenez, made sure I had enough of a pictorial with the superstar. I posed with her while she signed a DVD of Himala, and then suddenly, Tirso Cruz III also arrived. Baby K. arranged a pictorial with me and the Guy and Pip legends.
In 2024, I saw her for the last time gracing the special screening of Bona at Cinemalaya, with Phillip Salvador. She looked ill and hardly talked. Salvador did the honors of answering the questions from the media.
As expected, everybody was still raving about Bona.I told actor Nanding Josef, “I didn’t know you played the ‘first love’ of Bona in this film.”
Nora’s son Ian de Leon at the wake. (Photo by Mell Navarro)
On the 16th of April, I heard the news of the inevitable. She was in a hospital room surrounded by loved ones. She had undergone a procedure, and had a hard time coping with other health issues. Then she breathed her last. Said her son Ian de Leon, “She did not die during the operation. After that, she had a hard time breathing.”
Aunor was admitted in the hospital on April 10 and underwent an angioplasty on April 16. It was a medical procedure to open clogged coronary arteries to improve blood flow to the heart. Other medical findings also confirmed that she had been suffering from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), a progressive lung disease.
In that final moment, the great Nora Aunor closed the last chapter of a 71-year life. It was just a few weeks short of her 72nd birthday on May 21.
Said Nora’s only son (by actor Christopher de Leon): “From a very young age, our mom captivated hearts with her talent, grace, and unmatched voice. Over the decades, she built a career that shaped the very soul of our culture—through songs, through screen, and through every role she brought to life with brilliance.
“Her contributions to the arts are immeasurable. Her legacy will live on in every performance, every melody, and every person she inspired. We are profoundly grateful to everyone who reached out with love and prayers. Your messages are a powerful testament to how deeply she was cherished—not just by us, but an entire nation.
“Thank you for honoring her life, her work, and the lasting mark she leaves behind.”
Film director Joel Lamangan—who directed Nora in such landmark films as Muling Umawit ang Puso, Flor Contemplacion, Bakit May Kahapon Pa, Hustisya, Isa Pang Bahaghari—was weighed down by grief. “In all my films she appeared in, she showcased acting of the superior kind. I was not surprised she won local and international awards in most of her signature film appearances. In those landmark outputs was built our director-actor relationship. Nabuo ang prinsipyong dapat ang katotohanang hinihingi ng pelikula ang maibigay namin sa manonood. Nahubog ang tumatak na uri ng pagganap na si Nora lang ang makapagbibigay. Ang simple, makatotohanan, at diretsang ekspresyon ng emotion na hinihingi ng partikular na panahon.”
One simple act of kindness of La Aunor Lamangan cannot forget was when they were shooting Sidhi in Bongabon, Nueva Ecija. Upon knowing of a farmer’s predicament in tilling his land, she promptly gave the man P15,000 so he could buy a carabao.
Nora Aunor and Dingdong Dantes in a scene from a prime teleserye ‘Pari ‘Koy’ in 2015, the actor’s first encounter with the film legend (Photo courtesy of Dingdong Dantes)
Actor Dingdong Dantes had an unforgettable encounter with the National Artist for Film during a midseason run of a prime time teleserye, Pari ‘Koy, where he played a priest assigned to a hard-up community. As the actor recalled in social media, the series tackled deeply human stories—redemption, hope, compassion. “The series demanded a lot from us actors, emotionally and spiritually. The big surprise was when the producers announced a special guest, and she was no other than Nora Aunor. As an actor, it has always been my dream to work with the legends—those whose work opened the doors for all of us in the industry. At the very top of that dream list was the one and only superstar. Ms. Nora Aunor.”
The actor recalled that the shoot in August 2015 ran into the night. “Most of the scenes were heavy drama, and my sequence with her was scheduled towards the end—typically the after-midnight slot. True enough, the moment came under the cloak of night, in front of the parish church, drenched in water from fire hoses to simulate rain, lit with cinematic precision. It was cold. The air was thick with anticipation. The scene was tough. And it was all under the direction of the great, late direk Maryo J. Delos Reyes, whose vision and energy shaped the atmosphere on the set. He demanded truth, and everyone rose to the challenge—especially when working alongside two actors from different generations, brought together for one powerful moment.
“La Aunor was calm, focused, and magnificent. It felt like the world paused—just the two of us, quietly sharing the moment. We didn’t talk about acting. Nothing technical. Nothing about the industry. Just two people exchanging thoughts that didn’t need to be profound, but felt meaningful anyway. I had always wondered what it would be like to talk to the superstar. I was nervous, unsure if I could hold a conversation with someone of her stature. But her warmth, her humility—she made it easy. And that’s what I will remember forever. That moment—those 10 minutes of connection—was quietly captured by my colleague, Kit Sherwin Cruz. He took a photo of us sitting side by side on those monoblocs, mid-conversation. I didn’t know he had taken it until later. And now, looking at it, I’m grateful to have that memory frozen in time—a reminder that sometimes, the most powerful moments aren’t in front of the camera, but beside it.”
‘I had always wondered what it would be like to talk to the superstar. I was nervous, unsure if I could hold a conversation with someone of her stature. But her warmth, her humility—she made it easy’ – Dingdong Dantes
The actor said he will remember the grace, the professionalism, the passion, and the humility—especially when no one was watching. “That night wasn’t just about a scene. It was about sharing space and spirit with someone who carried decades of artistry with quiet dignity. And I shared it with the National Artist and the superstar.”
It is common knowledge that La Aunor had won acting awards in cinema here and abroad, and just a few years before her demise, the number just kept growing. Almost always, her presence in any film was an invitation to another acting award. But unknown to many, Nora has also done theater, and, while modest compared to her film output, these performances have been equally memorable.
In 1976, Lupita Aquino Kashiwahara (sister of Ninoy) directed a landmark film, Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo (Once A Moth), which won Best Picture, Best Director, Best Story, Best Screenplay, and Best Editing in that year’s Famas Awards.
While the Best Actress trophy eluded Nora, everyone in the cinema world was convinced her role as Corazon de la Cruz, whose brother was killed in an American military reservation, was second to none that year.
Manunuri member Nicanor Tiongson wrote: “Once again, Nora Aunor proves herself to be one of the finest actresses today, with an acting style that is both ‘raw’ and ‘fine,’ characterized by a disarming sincerity and force that can break into an unbelievable number of nuances, shades, and colors of emotion. Outstanding is her court scene where her face registers a gamut of emotions—from anger to confusion to depression and despair—in the space of about 10 seconds. Like a mature actress, she does not attack dramatic scenes with histrionics or hysteria. Over her brother’s coffin, she curses the Americans who came to pay off her family by screaming, ‘My brother is not a pig’ over and over again with mounting intensity.”
In 1991, 15 years after the critical success of the Kashiwahara film, a stage adaptation of Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo was conceived by the Philippine Educational Theater Association (PETA), with award-winning writer Rodolfo Vera tapped to write the script and Soxy Topacio as director. Nora debuted as stage actress at the Raha Sulayman Theater at Fort Santiago, Manila.
Vera recalled that Minsa’y Isang Gamu-gamo was chosen by PETA as part of its season in response to the anti-US bases issue, which was the burning concern at that time, with the Senate about to vote on the fate of the RP-US bases treaty. “PETA talked to Marina Feleo-Gonzales, the scriptwriter of the film, and delegated me to adapt it for the stage,” Vera said in an interview with Inquirer. “The play was quite faithful to the film script. All I really had to do was to restructure it a bit so that the scenes could play out longer and minimize the numerous cuts that film can afford. Also, I remember asking Marina how she imagined Corazon (Nora’s character) in the present time. She said she would see her as a committed member of the anti-US bases movement. So I added a few scenes that would help set that up in the end. Other than those tweaks, if you watch the film, much of the memorable lines and scenes, about 70 percent of them, were there on stage.”
From the beginning, the play was conceived with Aunor in mind. It was Topacio and other members of PETA who convinced the actress to try theater. If Aunor had said no, they were ready to mount the play on a lesser scale.
Since this would be her stage debut, “It gave her much anxiety at the beginning,” recalled Vera. “And in the process, she created her own ‘ritual,’ so to speak. Because she realized that theater required her to memorize all her lines in one go (unlike in film where you needed to memorize the lines of only the particular sequence being shot), she developed the habit of writing (on a notebook) all her lines—that was her method of memorizing them.
“She also remarked during one rehearsal that, now, she understood the story and its details a lot better than when they were shooting the film. She said she lost track of the real flow of the story since they were not shooting the film chronologically. But in theater, she would have to perform it from beginning to end. So she learned how to let her emotional track organically develop and grow towards the climax.”
Opening night brought out the best in Aunor, said Vera. “Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo was one of PETA’s greatest hits. Imagine Nora, live, onstage, reprising her role as the nurse who wanted to go to America. The movie was one of the best films that ever screened in the Metro Manila Film Festival (along with Insiang and Ganito Kami Noon, Paano Kayo Ngayon, one of those films that defined the ‘second golden age of Philippine cinema’ back in 1976). And seeing Nora onstage, no matter how small her physical stature was—she exuded the hugeness of a giant. All eyes were focused on her whenever she was on stage. Your eyes just searched for her in crowd scenes—and you’d find her, because she evoked a bigness that few actors could ever display. Also, there were times when she would be alone on center stage. Imagine Raha Sulayman Theater, which was a bit of an acoustic challenge for the actor (open-air, with sounds coming from the Pasig River behind the rampart)—and here was Nora, diminutive as she is, but even in her silence and pauses drawing the attention of the audience who, with bated breath, waited for what she would be saying. That for me was pure theater. Walang mikes, walang effects, walang closeup—just pure contact. No matter how far you were from the stage, all vantage points led to her. Amazing.”
‘And seeing Nora on stage, no matter how small her physical stature was—she exuded the hugeness of a giant. All eyes were focused on her whenever she was on stage…No matter how far you were from the stage, all vantage points led to her’ – Rody Vera
After Gamu-Gamo came the play DH (Domestic Helper), written by Ricky Lee. DH had a good Manila reception in 1992 and, as a result, it toured the United States and a few other countries. “In this play, she played a number of roles (all domestic helpers), and in each she was brilliant,” said Vera. “Her performance was just as riveting as the first time in Gamu-Gamo. This play, I think, was more challenging for her kasi she had longer lines, a lot more monologues, and four roles to tackle! She was funny, tragic, broken and transcendent.”
Inquirer columnist Conrad de Quiros was moved to write of her performance: “Nora proves here that she’s easily one of the finest actresses in the land today. Among those currently straddling film and stage, she probably has no peer. This is a tour de force. In the role of four women, Nora takes us through a rollercoaster ride along despair and salvation, glory and shame. The role is physically and emotionally draining, and can be taken on only by someone who’s done strenuous exercises in both…But what maturity Nora has developed! They don’t give awards for plays in this country, so Nora won’t get a Famas for this one. But she will have all the awards she needs in the warmth she gives to the lonely, the balm she gives to the wounded, and the hope she gives to the grieving. There is one thing greater than being a superstar, or even a megastar. And that is being, in the truest sense of the word, the people’s star.”
Aunor’s last theater outing was in a production of the classic Greek play, Trojan Women, in 1994, directed by PETA founder Cecile Guidote Alvarez. Alvarez said Aunor performed for free in this production, and her superb acting made a hardcore Noranian out of Alvarez
As one looks back, many of Nora’s past films are virtual cases of art imitating the actress’s poignant, sad, and by turns, meaningful life. To be sure, a few of her past films come to mind when an independent group of Italian film critics covering the 69th Venice International Film Festival gave her the Bisata d’Oro (Golden Eel) for best actress for the Brillante Mendoza film, Thy Womb. Her citation reads: “Her class and intelligence as an actress light up her performance with the necessary and important emotion. Nora Aunor shows that the work of an actress is to communicate ideas with intense expression and to make them credible…” Indeed, it was nothing short of a himala (miracle) because she was singled out from among 16 lead actresses from 16 other competing films.
Joel Lamangan (second from right) on the set of ‘Himala’ with Nora Aunor and Ishmael Bernal
Himala was her 1981 Ishmael Bernal film, which earned for Nora her first international best actress nomination in the 1983 Berlin Film Festival. The miraculous streak of Himala lasted for decades, because the same 1981 film was the only Filipino film chosen by CNN as one of the 10 best Asian films of all time, from the provisional list of 18 great films for 2008. CNN cited Himala for its “austere camera work, haunting score, and accomplished performances that sensitively portray the harsh social and cultural conditions that people in the Third World endure.” The same film was also awarded the CNN Asia Pacific Screen Awards (APSA) Viewers Choice Award for Best Asia-Pacific Film of All Time on November 14, 2008.
Born Nora Cabaltera Villamayor on May 21, 1953 in Iriga City, Nora had modest early singing triumphs. It was said her Lola Theresa taught her the first song she every learned, The Way of A Clown. Her early profile added that her aunt, Belen Aunor, taught her diction, interpretation, and expression while singing. From her aunt she also got her screen name, Nora Aunor.
She didn’t hide her past, her poverty-stricken childhood. She sold peanuts in bus terminals and hawked bottled water in train stations.
She became champion in the Darigold Jamboree, singing You and the Night and the Music. She repeated the same vocal feat in another radio singing competition, The Liberty Big Show, with her winning piece, You and The Night and the Music.
Her handlers thought she was ready to conquer a national singing competition. She didn’t make it in her first try in Tawag Ng Tanghalan. But on May 9, 1967, she made it as champion in the grand national finals of Tawag Ng Tanghalan with the song Moonlight Becomes You.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
Indeed, Nora had some lucky breaks, like a scene from her 1972 film, And God Smiled at Me, where she won another Best Actress award. And yet a few years back, she figured in a drug use case in an international airport, which caused her detention in a US jail. Like it or not, her real life abroad became a virtual scene from her 1984 film, Bulaklak ng City Jail, where she played an inmate, which earned her another Best Actress award.
In 2001, during another reprise of an EDSA upheaval, she admitted on national television a relationship with a former Philippine president, who she said beat her up during several of their lovers’ altercations. Like it or not, that life was like a scene from yet another film, Bona, the theater version of which she watched, starring the new Bona of Eugene Domingo.
In the 1960s, she caught national attention when she won several amateur singing competitions. All of a sudden, a botched operation affected her vocal cords, and she woke up one day with her golden voice gone. An earlier scheduled throat operation in Boston didn’t revive that singing voice, that same voice that broke records for Philippine recordings, which, to this date, according to Noranians, have yet to be surpassed. She has recorded more than 500 songs, among them Pearly Shells (1971), one of the country’s biggest hits, with more than one million units sold.
With that voice suddenly gone, she went through an empty phase—again, virtually like a scene from her 1976 film, Tatlong Taong Walang Diyos (Three Years Without God), for which she garnered yet another Best Actress trophy.
Some years back, when she returned for a role in a TV teleserye, Sa Ngalan Ng Ina (In the name of the Mother), she came up with another winning performance under the watchful eye of her mentor, Mario O’Hara. But that teleserye folded up too soon. She was left with only one career choice: film acting.
The red-carpet premiere of Sa Ngalan Ng Ina brought back memories of her colorful past. Her fans were back and shrieked no end at the sight of their idol, applauded every scene where she delivered with aplomb, and stood by her even after the screening and during the presscon conducted right in the theater.
Poster of the Nora Aunor-starrer, ‘Dementia,’ where a line from the author’s film review was quoted. The Filipino film directed by Perci Intalan was named Best Foreign Language Film at the 2015 St. Tropez International Film Festival in France. Said the director: ‘When I accepted her award as Best Actress, I said that I feel my job as a director was done because I was able to be part of letting the world see yet another example of Ms. Nora Aunor’s amazing talent.’
Her fans have a special place in her heart. “My fans are no longer what they used to be, but they remain loyal,” she said then. “There are those who simply got married, had children, but when my name is mentioned, they still remember.”
‘Even as I was going through one of the worst trials, I sought strength from my fans,’ Nora said. ‘Pag nakikita ko sila, nagkakaroon ako ng lakas dahil nandoon pa rin ang pagtitiwala nila’
Nora was a movie fan herself, and she knew the unpredictability of being one. She was a rabid Amalia Fuentes follower, but when she was ignored while asking for an autograph, she switched to the Susan Roces camp. “I have no regrets because I found out ang bait-bait pala ni Susan Roces. When I guested in her film, Pangarap Ko’y Ikaw, the more I realized Susan was good-natured even off camera. That’s the reason I see myself in my fans.”
When her reel and real life went through crisis, she turned to her fans for solace. When she decided to pull herself out of the pit, she turned to her fans for reassurance. “A severe crisis can make or unmake you,” she once told this writer. “Even as I was going through one of the worst trials, I sought strength from my fans. Pag nakikita ko sila, nagkakaroon ako ng lakas dahil nandoon pa rin ang pagtitiwala nila. It is no joke to lose friends as your fortunes dwindle, but somehow some of my fans have stayed with me through some of my worst tribulations.”
In one of her last lounge acts, she sang a stirring version of The Windmills of My Mind, which she said captured many untold chapters of her life and loves.
As I wrap up this story, Facebook is suddenly awash with her past recordings, which, like it or not, became her gateway to showbiz fame. As she wrapped up 71 years of a life, she is remembered as an actress, a singer, a recording artist, and film producer.
The Hollywood Reporter called her “The Grand Dame of Philippine Cinema” for her performances in the films Taklub (Trap) and Hustisya (Justice), and for her contributions to the Philippine film industry. Suddenly FB is featuring revivals of her earlier version of Song of My Life, which might as well have captured her musical life and her personal episodes.
Film critic Mauro Feria Tumbocon, Jr. describes La Aunor’s brand of acting: “Her performance, especially in her more critically-acclaimed works, are now considered standards to which latter-day actors subscribe, and against which they will be measured: A delicate balance of learned skills, emotional knowingness, cultural sensitivity. Aunor’s economy of gestures, her facial malleability, her liquid eyes—a miracle. Just observe this evolution of her performance, her style that aspires for the truth, depicting grief, from the very physical expression of sorrow in Lupita Aquino-Concio’s Minsa’y Isang Gamu-Gamo (Once A Moth), 1976, and Maryo J. de los Reyes’s Naglalayag (Silent Passage), 2004, to the quiet intensity of Ishmael Bernal’s Himala (Miracle), 1982; Brillante Mendoza’s Taklub (Trap), 2015; and Kristian Sendon Cordero’s Hinulid, The Sorrows of Sita, 2016, and you will discern the great maturity of a true artist.”
Lino Brocka once confided to writer Noel Vera that La Aunor was the only star he knew who could silence a crowd. “After the premiere of Ina Ka ng Anak Mo (You Are the Mother of Your Child), 1979, a big crowd waited for her outside the lobby. People were unruly. Her car was bumped by the crowd. All she did was put a finger to her lips and raise her right hand, and it was like the parting of the Red Sea. You could hear a pin drop.”
Nora Aunor is survived by her children Lotlot, Ian, Matet, Kiko, and Kenneth de Leon.
Author’s note: Parts of the recollection on the life and career of Nora Aunor first appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer and Vera Files. The remaining official schedule for her wake and funeral is as follows: April 21 (Monday): 1 pm to 12 midnight viewing for family and friends, with a 7 pm Mass; April 22 (Tuesday): Nora will be brought to the Manila Metropolitan Theater at 8 am for a necrological service before her State Funeral and interment at Libingan ng mga Bayani.
