On September 16, 1972, just days before then-President Ferdinand Marcos declared Martial Law, a disaster struck Naga City. The collapse of the Colgante Bridge during the Peñafrancia fluvial procession claimed the lives of dozens, but outside of Bicol, the tragedy has been largely forgotten — until now.
More than five decades later, Padamlagan, a 2025 Cinemalaya entry from Bicolana filmmaker Jenn Romano, revives this overlooked chapter of history. The film blends fact and fiction, memory and imagination, grief and hope, as it seeks to reclaim a lost narrative.
For Romano, the project is deeply personal. “The last two lines in a September 1972 issue of a local newspaper caught my eye — about the Colgante tragedy and the Martial Law declaration. After that, there was a media blackout,” she recalled. “That triggered something in me.”
What began as a master’s thesis eventually became a full-length period drama. The film centers on Doring, a father searching for his lost son in the aftermath of the bridge collapse. Drawing from interviews, archival materials, and accounts from Nagueños, including high school students who witnessed the event, Padamlagan weaves a narrative that goes beyond the tragedy itself. It is a story about the personal cost of disaster and dictatorship, and how communities bear grief when the national narrative forgets them.
A Regional Story with National Resonance
Set in the 1970s and filmed mostly in Bicol, Padamlagan offers a rare opportunity to spotlight regional storytelling on a national stage. Spoken primarily in the Bikol language, the film brings together local history and culture in a narrative that is both intimate and far-reaching. Its title, drawn from a vigil prayer whispered during the Peñafrancia procession, loosely translates to “a light in the darkness” — a metaphor that grounds the film’s emotional core.
“This is our chance to reclaim stories from the margins,” said Romano, who hails from Canaman, Camarines Sur. She studied film at Ateneo de Naga and the University of the Philippines. “These are our histories, too — not just footnotes.”
The cast reflects this commitment to authenticity. Leading the ensemble is Ely Buendia, frontman of the iconic band Eraserheads, who portrays Doring. He is joined by seasoned Bicolano actors Sue Prado, and Floyd Tena, each bringing personal connections to the project.
Sue Prado: Reconnecting with Her Roots
For actress Sue Prado, playing Doring’s sister was both a cultural and emotional awakening. Although she grew up hearing about the Peñafrancia festivities from her mother, who is from Libmanan, Camarines Sur, it wasn’t until she read the Padamlagan script that she learned about the Colgante tragedy.
“It helped me understand not just life in that part of Bicol, but also the broader patterns in our nation. This tragedy isn’t just a Bicolano issue, it’s a Filipino story,” she said.
This is Prado’s first time acting in a film written primarily in Bicol, and she found it deeply resonant. “The soul of it is very much Bicolano. It’s so grounded, so raw — it just tells the story. That’s what makes it hit hard.”
For Prado, Padamlagan also serves as a timely reminder of civic responsibility. “We need to stop settling for broken systems. We deserve better, and we need to expect more from those in power. That’s not utang na loob; that’s accountability.”
Floyd Tena: A Homecoming Through Cinema
For Floyd Tena, Padamlagan marks both a literal and spiritual return home. Born to parents from Oas and raised in Guinobatan, Albay, Tena speaks several Bicol dialects and studied in Naga. In the film, he plays Zaldy, Doring’s brother-in-law, a character caught in the wreckage of both personal and political turmoil.
“It’s a story of those left behind,” Tena said. “It’s not just about the tragedy. It’s also about the silence that followed. And how that silence mirrors what happened during Martial Law.”
Tena views the film’s title — Padamlagan — as a generational metaphor. As a child, he recalls his elders saying, “Iwanan mo ‘yung ilaw para may kasama kayo.” He didn’t fully understand it then, but now it carries a deeper meaning. “It means never being alone in the dark. And in our time now, with so much misinformation and repression, we need that guiding light more than ever.”
Tena believes the film’s themes of faith, family, and justice will resonate especially with younger audiences. “Many young people today don’t know what really happened. Or worse, they’re being taught a version that erases the pain. Padamlaganis a way of remembering — and resisting.”
More Than a Festival Film
While Padamlagan is set to premiere at the Cinemalaya Film Festival this October, its creators hope its impact will extend beyond the festival circuit. Community screenings in Bicol are already being planned, along with potential partnerships with institutions like the Archdiocese of Caceres.
“It’s more than a film,” Romano emphasized. “It’s a process of sense-making. Of giving voice — especially to stories and places often left out of our national memory.”
Romano is acutely aware that the victims of the Colgante tragedy have never been officially memorialized. “That speaks volumes about how we fail to commemorate our local histories,” she said. Padamlagan hopes to serve not just as a film, but as a starting point for local healing.
Prado shares this vision. “I hope this film reaches the provinces. Not just for Bicolanos, but for everyone. We need more films in our languages. More films rooted in real stories.”
Tena agrees. “This is a chance to revive regional media. To show the richness of our languages, our people, our spirit.”
Carrying the Light Forward
At its heart, Padamlagan is about memory — the kind passed down in stories, in silence, and in acts of faith. It’s about those who walked into danger for their devotion, those left to grieve with no answers, and those still searching for light in the darkness.
“Maybe Padamlagan will not just illuminate our past,” Tena says quietly. “Maybe it can be the light we need now, to understand each other better, to speak to one another, and to never forget.”
In a country where historical memory is often distorted, Padamlagan dares to remember. And in doing so, it begins to heal.