I believe most people's mindsets are largely shaped by their cultural upbringing and experiences, and filmmakers are not an exception. My fascination for horror stories is rooted from a very young age—way back when vinyl hit records used to wear out turntable needles. The year was 1979. The British band, Eruption, dominated the airwaves with their disco hit, "One Way Ticket." I can still vividly recall the dance craze that pervaded with it. I was 6 then, a Kindergartener trying to outgrow my preschool bellbottoms in Zamboanga City, Philippines. Scary, right?
Well, probably not as scary as the trendy "bowl cut" hairstyle for kids. For a while I thought that was a horrific idea until I was introduced to a horror radio show called, “Hora Encantada” (Enchanted Hour). The program was recorded in my native Chavacano dialect (a Spanish-based creole), which went on air every day at dusk. Since the telling was purely auditory, the fear I experienced was amplified, so to speak. And in the absence of visual information, my imagination just got wilder than it already was.
I remember shivers would run up my spine every time I heard the echoey intro to “Hora Encantada.” I would curl up next to my “yaya” (nanny) and her friends; all huddled around a transistor radio. I guess you can say it's the Filipino version of America's campfire ghost storytelling culture. My parents never found out about it. I bet they would have never allowed me to listen to such radio program during my formative years. In retrospect, I’m actually glad I did because those experiences have definitely molded me into the kind of storyteller that I am today.
🌵Nice