A showman like no other: My Tribute To Kuya Germs

(Back in 2008, in a story I wrote for the Special Edition of S Magazine (August issue), I confessed to the guiltiest pleasure anyone from my generation could ever own up to. I was, and probably still am, a disciple of German Moreno. To those who can relate but still fear the repercussions, I encourage you to “come out of the closet,” so to speak, and be true to your pop culture roots. The following is the piece I wrote.)

To borrow the words of Charles Dickens, “It was the best of times… It was the worst of times.” The mid-‘80s ushered in an era of great transformations and as one of the many children of the revolution, I was witness to the rebirth of democracy and the violent upheavals of its aftermath. Amid these changes, there was one thing constant in my life – Kuya Germs.

I take liberties in calling him Kuya though we are not related and not even remotely close. But he was an omnipotent being in my teen years that it has become impossible to talk about my childhood without mentioning him. It wasn’t that I sought his company. He was simply there when I came home from school. After merienda and before working on my homework was a small window when I was allowed to watch television. And when I turned on the switch, there he was on That’s Entertainment. Everyday without fail, he would be surrounded by a crowd of young stars learning to sing, dance and act on air. And on Sundays, the family lunch seemed incomplete without him and GMA Supershow.

Long before Big Brother came to the country, German Moreno was the nation’s Kuya. He was a fixture in our lives – like the security blanket we all had but never dared confess to owning. His colorful suits and flamboyant barongs were a regular source of laughter among the college preppies – not realizing that in their mockery they were, in fact, admitting to watching his shows. Personally, I was already in college studying film and broadcasting before I fully comprehended how massive his contributions were to the local entertainment industry. I have been an admirer ever since.

Born on October 4, 1933, Kuya Germs began his career in show business as a janitor. In between mopping floors, he was also a telonero or a curtain-raiser at the Clover Theater. He moved on to the front of the curtain as a comedian for the bodabil stage and eventually penetrated the movies. He side-kicked for the legendary actors of Philippine cinema’s golden age, working with the likes of Eddie Gutierrez, Gloria Romero, Ric Rodrigo, Susan Roces, Rosemarie Sonora, Nora Aunor and Tirso Cruz III to name a few.

It was on television, however, where he truly made his mark. His first variety show, Germcide aired on GMA7 from 1976 to 1980. It was replaced by Germspesyal which ran for the next six years then GMA Supershow from 1986 to 1997. Simultaneously, he also co-hosted for Nora Aunor’s Superstar on RPN9 (1982-1991).

It was on January 4, 1986, while a widowed housewife challenged a 20-year dictatorship, a different kind of coup exploded on television. With a dozen teen stars composed of former child actors and children of prominent actors, Kuya Germs introduced the Filipino audience to That’s Entertainment – a teen variety show never before seen on local television. Overnight, “the lights on the lady in tights…” was on people’s lips.

As the That’s family grew, the stars were divided into five groups that appeared on a specific day of the week. Each day was anchored by a popular love team supported by newer stars trying to get their 15 minutes of fame. Apart from singing and dancing, on-air workshops were introduced to help hone their skills. It was the original talent search reality show except that nobody got kicked out of the island. Instead, Kuya Germs welcomed more and more new stars until they could no longer fit the stage.

On Saturdays, fans were treated to an extravaganza. All of the stars were present and a competition was held for the best production number. Apart from cans of Birch Tree Milk Powder and bags of Besuto Prawn Crackers for prizes, it was the honor and bragging rights that kept the groups digging deeper into their arsenal and presenting spectacular numbers. Such was the relentlessness of its training that, while the show had no illusions of creating talent where there was none, a year with That’s guaranteed that a non-singer could crank out a respectable karaoke machine score and ensure fewer grave-injuries lawsuits for non-dancers.

Like any popular program, That’s became fodder for much criticism. Some people would comment that it was merely a collection of warm bodies with not enough talent to fill a teaspoon. What detractors could not understand back then was that it had graduated from being a mere talent search into a show that discovered diamonds in the rough, whatever field it may be.

It was such a pervasive force in the local entertainment industry that my generation categorizes television history as BT and AT – Before That’s and After That’s. It won the PMPC Star Awards for Best Variety Show in 1992 and 1994. The reunion concert special in 1996 won the Best TV Special Award. A huge chunk of today’s serious actors came from That’s Entertainment. A good number have come to win local and international film awards. And for them, it all began because a man wearing an unusual barong approached them and asked, “Gusto mo bang mag artista?”

There was talent. Whether it was evident or not back then may be open to debate. But there lies Kuya Germ’s true gift. He saw what others could not. And he gave them a chance to shine. Beyond the Lea Salongas and the Francis Magalonas whose talents were evident long before they joined the show, That’s nurtured the gifts of top-caliber actor Piolo Pascual, award-winning actress Alessandra De Rossi, and international singing sensation Billy Crawford to name a few.

But even those who did not continue their showbiz careers went on to become achievers in their own fields. JC Bonin is now a respected pastor. Brylle Mondejar is a successful businessman and public servant. Mutya Crisostomo is a top executive of Unilever. The training they received may not have helped them achieve a successful showbiz career but the values inculcated carried them through their various occupations. Everyday, the stars and their fans would hear Kuya Germs hammer away on the importance of professionalism. Whatever path they chose, it certainly made a difference.

The darkest time of the show was probably the series of pregnancies that occurred within its ranks. There is something about a smorgasbord of good looking teens and raging hormones that made That’s a conducive venue for such a problem. And, indeed, it was a valid criticism especially since, to their legions of fans, the stars were seen as role models.

It was painful to watch as one cast member after another bid farewell to the show after admitting they were pregnant. The heartbreak on Kuya Germs’s face could not be hidden. It was bitterly disappointing and it made the show far more real than anyone had hoped for.

On television as in real life, people are offered opportunities that they may choose to take advantage of or simply squander. Kuya Germs offered a chance. Others took it. Others could not handle it. But what he offered after the spotlights have been switched off is a kindness that any erring child could not even dare to hope for. In his eyes, they were good kids who made different choices. He did not judge or condemn. He simply supported them even though they have traded the stage for cradles and diapers.

That’s Entertainment made its final curtain call in March of 1996, at the height of its popularity. I already graduated from college by then and, like the cast members, found myself out of my comfort zone and thrust into the real world. It was a tearful farewell but as the cycle of life goes, all good things must come to an end to make way for new ones.

And yet, Kuya Germs is still here. The true showman that he is, he has managed to make the wee hours of the morning a memorable slot with his distinctive battlecry: “Walang tulugan!” And still, he continues to discover new talents and use his show as a venue to give opportunities to others.

People say that it takes humility to step aside and give the stage to another. But I believe that it also takes a tremendous amount of security and self-assurance to take a backseat and give chance for others to shine. Kuya Germs has taken this a step further and made a career out of it. And though detractors may continue to snicker at his shimmering suits and colorful shirts, I believe he is a true television legend. Indeed, a showman like no other!

(This article was first published in the now defunct S Magazine of One Mega Group.)