1955 Tabio, Colombia

Cecilia Bayona
1934
Tabio, Colombia
Interviewed on January 28, 2022
by Juan Diego Casallas Otalora

(Translated from Spanish)

The first movie that I can remember was Marcelino, Pan y Vino. Hmm, how can I explain it? It was about these Capuchins in—a convent, no convents are for women—a seminary that adopt this little orphaned boy, Marcelino. The monks were brimming with joy as they reared him. Marcelino grew up, but he was very naughty, and he played pranks on his neighbors. I manage to remember that he ate breakfast, lunch, and did everything with them. One monk ordered the second floor of the seminary under lock and key. Surely, Marcelino wondered what they kept up there, and one day he hid under the stairs and waited for the friar to leave the door unlocked. What he found up there was our Lord crucified and he thought to himself, as would the mind of any child “what are they doing there, why do they have him tied up.” In the days after the monks saw that bread was being stolen from the table, but they hadn’t suspected Marcelino. Then Marcelino would go talk to the Crucifix and ask “are you thirsty? Just wait here” and in the few ways he could, he would bring it wine. I can’t remember if the Crucifix would receive both the bread and the wine, but Marcelino would go and talk to it. Eventually, the monks realized their food was disappearing and questioned Marcelino, but the little devil lied to them! The last bit I can remember is that the monks followed Marcelino, and they caught him offering Christ bread and wine. That’s why they called the movie Marcelino, Pan y Vino…. Ah!! I think it ended with the boy dying next to our Lord. Christ had said some words to him and raised him up to the sky with him.

All my first movies were religious. The only times we watched movies were with the nuns. The kids my age in Tabio would go down to the monastery in town to learn the Catechist and have our lessons for First Communion. Sometimes when we had become too rowdy for the sisters, they would lead us to this open classroom in the complex. I remember that two veiled sisters would put up a white bedsheet—or sometimes, they even used the bare white wall—and a man entered with the projector. He would rest it upon his shoulder or sometimes set it down on the table as the movies played. We didn’t have theatres nearby like today, just that classroom. The monks would let all the children that would come to enjoy and learn from the movies, often they would open it up to anyone in the town. I remember all of us from the neighborhood and the rural areas would come down. They would shut the windows and doors to the room and the hall would be pitch black except for the light from the projection.

I remember sometimes when they would open it up to all the town. The sisters would nail to the convent door the announcement that the screening day was coming up for all to see. It was free for everyone. It was such a gift. Especially for those living in the fields, what a joy when they come could down and see something. It was rare though, only every so often would these screenings happen. There was always so much anticipation for the next movie! The Church and the nuns of that convent wanted to educate and enliven the people, so they only played light movies like Marcelino or films on the lives of Saints. Just as they taught how to sew, how to do manual labor, or how to be a good Christian, the purpose of their films was to learn.

Comedies were also played, which were my favorite, especially with Cantinflas! The whole town always came for his movies. However, the nuns made sure that those who hadn’t ever watched the films before sat down first, they had priority. If there wasn’t a seat for you, you would sit on the floor. Since we didn’t see them often, stars weren’t that well known, only Cantinflas. The other kids and I learned of stars like Jorge Negrete, based on what adults would say about them, and it wasn’t till I was older that we saw more serious movies.